Emerald Oasis

The Escape

The first stop: Uddingham-Crown cemetery. Victoria removed her seatbelt and tried crawling out of the car before Rodger had the chance to pull over. Joyce could sense Victoria's rustling at the back.

"Hang on! At least let me stop."

Victoria shrugged her shoulders. "You're too slow."

"I can't help it," Rodger grumbled, steering the wheel, "The speed limit is 10."

"I want to see my husband. I haven't seen him since I got dumped in that home."

"Well, he's not going anywhere."

"Still, there's no time for mucking around."

They hopped out the car and drew their attention to an owl digging her claws on the rim of a tombstone. Victoria turned her torch towards it. The owl stepped towards the left.

"Oh Crawford," Victoria howled, kneeling down by her husband's final resting place, knowing that one day, they would be united once more.

Rodger knelt with her and tipped his hat towards the grave.

"Fantastic man," he said.

Victoria lifted her head. "You knew him?"

"Everyone knew old Crawford Knight! He worked in my factory for a few years."

"He did?"

"Nice chap he was, always saying good things about you and how you and Dorothy were always out travelling the world."

"I don't remember him mentioning you."

"He said you often asked about me."

Victoria frowned, shaking her head. "I had no idea."

"And to think," Dorothy said, "the four of us hadn't seen each other since school."

"What pushed us all away?" Joyce asked. "We should have met up more after school."

"Doesn't matter," Dorothy said, tapping Joyce's shoulder. "We're here now. Best friends always get reunited in the end."

Rodger patted Victoria's back, then climbed the hill above. Through the trees, he saw smoking chimneys from the distance. "Look!" he cried out. "There's my old factory. I made and shipped thousands of toys there a year. I've never felt so proud."

"Why do you feel proud?" Dorothy asked. "You've done some bad things in your time. If you hadn't have been fiddling with other women..."

"I know I've done some bad things," Rodger interrupted. "But I am happy because my idea, my blood, sweat and tears will live on through that building. Anyway, how do you know about the other women."

"Cause you told us at teatime."

"What table?"

"In the lounge, you told us when Joyce went to the toilet."

"I must have been joking."

Dorothy shook her head. "You don't joke about things like that."

"Can we just stop bickering for once!" Joyce shrieked, straining her throat. The owl flinched and sored towards the factory. "If we bickered like this when we were at school, then it's no wonder we lost contact with each other as a group."

"Dorothy and I kept in contact," Victoria muttered.

"We've got to think back," Joyce pleaded, knees on the grassy terrain. "We can't have just lost contact with each other for no reason. We must have had an argument or something must have happened. Maybe we have bumped into each other, maybe it's our dementia taking our memories away."

"I don't have dementia," Victoria said, pursing her lips.

"Nor have I," Rodger agreed. "I've still got my marbles."

"My memories not as good as it was," Dorothy said with honesty. "I can remember my first car, it was a vauxall. But... I can't remember what I had for lunch today."

"We had fish and chips," Rodger said. "And you stole my chips."

"If I recall correctly," Victoria intervened. "You didn't like your chips and let Dorothy have them."

"Whatever."

"That's my point," Joyce said. "We were all there together, but we all remember it differently. To me, lunch was just a blacked out blur."

Rodger waltzed around the cemetery with his hands in his pocket. "I've got a secret. Just between you and me ladies."

Joyce smirked. "I know."

"How can you know?" Rodger barked.

"Because the fairies told me."

"Told you what?"

"I never married..."

Victoria frowned at Rodger. "If you never married how did you have children?"

Dorothy pointed out, "You don't need marriage to make a child. There's plenty of unmarried parents nowadays."

"A woman I slept with came knocking on my door," Rodger confessed. "She asked for shelter. She was only sixteen, bless her. Her parents had kicked her out of the house. I let her in. She died giving birth to the triplets. My brother and I were left to raise them alone."

"Why didn't you two get married?" Dorothy asked.

"Because we didn't want to."

"How did you forge all the marriage documents?" Joyce asked.

"It was easier back in the day. I made forge documents all the time on top of my factory work. I was a busy man. Very busy man indeed."

"Did the girl's parents ever know?"

"She never heard from them again," Rodger admitted. "She was too scared to contact them. I never got a hold of their details, so they never got to know about their granddaughters."

"Surely she must have had a funeral of some sorts?"

Rodger nodded. "She didn't want any fuss. I put her in a cardboard box and buried her in my garden. She's still there. The one thing that's strange is that even after all these years, she was never reported missing. She was considered a disgrace to the family."

"You should have called the ambulance and the police," Dorothy yelled. "She would have still been alive today."

"But you see, when she knocked on my door, she seemed happy for being kicked out. I recall seeing bruises all over her body when I did her. She wanted protection and privacy. I had to protect her."

"Wait!" Joyce scurried towards the chapel. "I can see something in there." 

"Is is one of your fairy gangs?" Rodger asked.

"Maybe," she panted. The door creaked open on its own. Turning towards the visitor's book, Joyce was overwhelmed by the smell of disinfectant. Her feet glided towards the altar as if she was skating.

"What are you playing at?" Rodger snarled. "Come on we better go soon." He slipped and banged his knees. Victoria and Dorothy scurried over to pick Rodger up. The door slammed. A lightning bolt had burnt through the roof and the chairs caught fire.