Airs from a British Fantasia

"I can explain..." the woman paused, thought for a second and drew her wand out in a swift, rapid movement. "OBLIVIATE! Alright Grace, Christopher," she added as she turned to the man, "there was no magic... The flash of light you saw was not a spell..."she paused. "Erm... swamp gas from a weather balloon was trapped in a thermal pocket, and reflected the light from Venus... Okay?"

Chapter 1: Redhill and Beyond.

'Think, Beth, think,' the girl told herself, as she shook with anxiety, 'there must be something you can do...'

But no matter how she tried to put it, she felt trapped. There was nothing she could do: her options were down to: nothing - nada, zip, nil... "Well I could always camp out here, I s'pose," she said, contemplating the thought of staying forever locked up in there. She could already see the cheesy headlines: 'GIRL DIES IN BATHROOM DURING BURGLARY OF SUBURBAN HOME' or 'LOO SEQUESTRATION LEADS TO DEATH IN REDHILL.' Had the situation not been so serious Beth would have almost laughed. She had been in the loo, when she'd heard footsteps in the hall. Founding it rather strange and just a tad exhilarating, Beth had turned off the light, had tiptoed silently to the door and pressed her eye against the keyhole. What was she going to find out? Her father's secret life? Grace's Green Peace meeting? Though, now she reckoned, the latter would have been rather dull. Now, however, it seemed merely scary: she was really the witness of middle-of-the-day intrusion.

'Calm, now calm,' Beth thought as she pressed flat against the wall in semidarkness, trying to even out her breathing. The front door slammed shut with a loud thump. 'They're gone, they must be.' Still silent, Beth unlocked the door and ventured slowly out of the bathroom, and, swallowing with difficulty, she edged forward into the corridor, her steps loudly echoing in the empty hall. She reassured herself, surely the intruders were gone now. Throwing a furtive glance in either directions she walked up to the living room door. She could hear the muffled voices of telly but no other sounds emerged, 'Good sign.' She rested her hand onto the (inexplicably) cold handle, and taking a deep breath, she turned the knob slowing, dreading what she was about to see, and--

"Elizabeth!"

She jerked her hand away and turned to face her mother, whom, by now, had forced into a bone-breaking-tight hug. She muttered something about a Black man called Mark, a vault and a petty mordant, or something like that- not that it made any sense anyway, Beth noted later, upon thinking about this fateful hour. When her mother finally released her, Beth could hardly find her words. Questions flooded her mind - how had she known, for instance, to come right this moment, did she know what the Hell was going on? She pictured herself thanking her mother in a moment of deep gratitude, and confiding into her mother the scare of this kind-of-burglary. But all Beth managed to was,

"Mom... What the-?"

"No time, dear, we have to go," she said. And as if to emphasise her point - or just because she fancied her daughter mentally challenged - "We leave, now!" She grabbed her arm and pulled Beth away, almost dislocating her shoulder on the way.

"But, mom, why? I don't... what's going on?" Beth said, gesturing to the room behind her and to the whole house in general. "And where are we going?" There was a pause, somehow, she had the odd feeling she wasn't going to like what her mother was about to say. Time seemed to stand still for an instant, while her mother looked her in the eye and seized her by the shoulders in a very clichéd way. Then she murmured gravely and almost inaudibly:

"Darling, I'll explain, I promise... but right now, there is no time." Questions flooded Beth's mind on again, but as her mother's big grey, loving eyes considered her, she dismissed them in an instant, and followed her.

*

After an oddly silent - and very long - trip to Middle-Of-Nowhere-Ville, Mother finally stopped the car and decided to check the two of them in a motel. Beth whined loudly as Mother forced her into the sordid looking building, but in vain: nothing her daughter could say or do would change her mind, they were going there, whether she wanted it or not. Resigned, Beth examined the wearing façade, and almost commented on the cute looking garden gnome, forgetting to be mad at Mother. 'This is what happens,' Beth reminded herself, rather painfully, 'when you spend too much time with Grace... you start thinking garden gnomes look cute.' And then, for a fraction of a second, the girl could have sworn it had moved - that it was alive.

Pushing all extraordinary thoughts aside, she stepped into the building, sighing loudly. Then mom dragged me into the dining room, ordering the only dish they did serve: Regina Soup. Mother forced a smile when the soup was brought in, and thanked the waitress. Looking down at her plate, and stirring the viscous looking substance, Beth sighed in an exasperated-daughter-sort-of-way.

"Have some soup darling," Mother managed pleasantly.

"No thanks," Beth retorted equally pleasantly, "I've already had Diarrhoea."

"Elizabeth!"

"Don't you Elizabeth me-"

"Darling-"

"No Mother! I'm sorry, but you can't use the bloody omni-loving-mother card twice in one day!" And with that, the girl stormed out of the room, very happy with herself. Well, that is until she had to walk right back in--

"Forgotten something?" Mother asked, waving their (second) room key in the most self-satisfied manner. Beth shot her what she imagined to be her most infuriated look, sighed and mumbled something that vaguely resembled "thank you." Then she restormed out of the room wordlessly, ignoring the stares of the (only) three other customers

*

Lavinia pulled the blanket over her daughter, when she arrived in their room later that night. As she sat at the foot of the bed, she sighed in a very motherly fashion, and watched the news.

"...and finally a family of three found dead in most, erm," the speaker hesitated, "mysterious circumstances," he added, before yielding the floor to the weatherman.

"Well, Ted, the weather isn't looking to good either..."

"Jesus!" Lavinia cursed as she turned of the t.v.

"Beth, just call me Beth," her daughter joked. She obviously hadn't realised Beth had been awake. She gave a weak, shaky laugh, and then said, in a half smile:

"That's still isn't funny..."

"Riiiight," she started unconvinced, but then reverted to a more serious attitude, "now mom, can you be reasonable and tell me why we're here?"