Marvin wandered along the silent, uncarpeted hallway. His threadbare mourning attire, hanging limp on his sparse hollow frame, was at odds with his shabby blue bedroom slippers. He had long ago ceased stopping to admire the portraits lining the walls, festooned with layer upon layer of silken webs. Haughty, jaundiced eyes, forgotten by daylight, followed his slow ponderous steps as he held the candle in the wrought iron holder before him. Whispers, pleading in their urgency, chased after him, calling to him, reminding him. He halted at the end of the hall, turned and raised his aged hand to shade the flickering light; like an X-ray, it showed the blood red bones through the paper tissue of his skin. His breath wheezed as he spoke.
“Be patient, my loved ones. Be patient.”
The susurration withdrew into the frames whence they came, and the eyes became silent. Marvin continued down the winding staircase, clinging to the worm-eaten banister, polished with daily use. He was careful to take one slow step at a time as he descended into the darkened circular entrance hall. There he waved an acknowledging hand to a host of white marbled statuary standing silent in their recessed sarcophagi. He paused beside the Venus de Milo, the real one; not the fake they thought was the real one, displayed so proudly in the Louvre. He winked at her. She stared back at him condescendingly.
Large, heavy double doors stood shut on either side of the hall. He ignored them and turned towards the small unobtrusive door behind the stairs, leaving a narrow path as he shuffled over the dust shrouded, limestone tiles.
One would have expected the door, its patina no longer a thing of beauty, to creak and groan as Marvin pushed it open, but as he had oiled the hinges only last week, this was not the case and it swung with ease onto a passageway of indeterminate length. Even with the candle it was impossible to see the far end.
He gingerly wrapped his fingers around a brass door handle, and listened. Indistinguishable voices came from beyond the panelled wood. He hesitated before pushing it open to reveal the room on the other side. A cavernous room with high ceilings; shelves full of rusting iron cooking utensils, a cold, empty hearth, no longer dancing with merry flames. A brown stained sink stood along one wall. There were no windows.
Four men, wrapped in loose rotting shrouds, sat around a large table on rough-hewn benches, two to the left, two to the right. They glowed a phosphorescent green in the dark airless kitchen and each of them had something missing. Armless looked up as Marvin came into the room. The rest of them, Eyeless, Toothless and Legless followed his gaze. All showed ruptured and pustule laden skin, which was otherwise dry and desiccated. They watched his every move as guilt struggled with defiance, fighting for dominance. In the centre of the table lay a discarded and crumpled, orange, blue and gold wrapper.
Marvin stared at it. Eyeless, with his one good eye, looked first at Marvin, then at the others. Armless pointed his one good hand, his left one, at Toothless. Legless kicked Armless under the table with his one good leg. They all stared at Marvin, who was looking very angry indeed. His lips were drawn back showing a row of pearly white dentures, almost blinding in their immaculate superiority. His eyes bulged as if to burst and his eyebrows locked together.
“You greedy fiends. You greedy, greedy fiends. What about the rest of us?”
Then he lowered his head, dropping his shoulders. He had been looking forward in sweaty palmed anticipation, and now disappointment welled up inside him. He gently eased himself onto a stool at the end of the table nearest the door.
Toothless tried to say something but instead sprayed a mouthful of soggy crumbs across the wooden surface, and over Marvin who lifted a shaky hand and wiped the mess from his face on the sleeve of his threadbare coat.
As the four men watched every movement in silence, Armless slid his fingers towards the empty wrapper.
“Leave it!” Marvin glared at him. “There’s no point trying to hide it now.” He reached out, picked it up and read the packaging. ‘McVities HOBNOBS.’ “You guys know these are my favourite.” He sighed.
He did not see Eyeless wink at Legless, who smirked.
Marvin stood, wiped a solitary tear from his cheek and turned towards the door, knocking over the stool. He bent, his back clicking and groaning, to replace it. As he did so he heard a flurry of movement and sniggering around the table. He cautiously unwound himself, allowing his left eye to peer above the top edge. Then the yellowed orb with its network of fine red lines open wide. He grinned and continued to stand, the dentures coming into their own like a crescent moon rising over the sea.
“Oh, my wonderful, wonderful friends.”
Armless coughed and cleared his throat, then falteringly began singing, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…..” Legless and Eyeless joined in heartily and Toothless continued to pebbledash the table top with wet biscuit.
Marvin wiped a sleeve across his eyes as he waited for them to finish. There, in the centre of the table was a simple birthday cake surrounded by packets of Hobnobs; the plain ones and as a special treat, the chocolate covered ones as well. On top of the cake, carefully placed pieces of Hobnob, created a crazy paving effect.
“Thank you, thank you, and thank you. Pray forgive my anger.”
He wandered over to the sink and returned a few minutes later with a large knife with which he proceeded to cut five slices. Eyeless produced an uncorked bottle and Toothless five glasses.
It was a merry little party and when the contents of the bottle were finished and the portions of cake eaten, the four ghouls again wished Marvin a happy birthday before hopping, stumbling and lurching over to the back wall of the kitchen. Four ancient crumbling bricked up alcoves were spaced at regular intervals along it. Old lime mortar filled the joints. The lads faced each other and bid fond partings, promising to meet up again the following day.
Adieu,” “Au revior,” “Auf weidersein,” “Catch you later, mes amis” and “Arrivaderci”. Then each passed through the wall into his own bricked up cell.
Marvin watch them leave and set out a silver tray with the biscuits and thin slices of birthday cake. He had to make it go around so the portions could not be too generous.
Finally, he balanced the candle holder on the tray and retraced his steps, back out of the kitchen, along the passage, and through into the entrance hall. He offered the treats to each statue in turn. One after the other took an offering and nodded their gratitude. In the case of the Venus de Milo, the real one, he was obliged to place cake between her delicate lips then wait to brush away any crumbs. He winked at her again before resuming his journey across the hall and up the stairs, a step at a time and leaning his hip on the banister for support.
Back in the silent hallway, he paused to catch his breath as the expectant susurration returned. “Here you are my lovelies, a special treat today, not just biscuits but Hobnob cake as well.” He placed the tray on the hall table and scuffed away to the whispered sounds of “For he’s a jolly good fellow”.
He closed the bedroom door behind him, knowing the tray would be empty in the morning.
“Be patient, my loved ones. Be patient.”
The susurration withdrew into the frames whence they came, and the eyes became silent. Marvin continued down the winding staircase, clinging to the worm-eaten banister, polished with daily use. He was careful to take one slow step at a time as he descended into the darkened circular entrance hall. There he waved an acknowledging hand to a host of white marbled statuary standing silent in their recessed sarcophagi. He paused beside the Venus de Milo, the real one; not the fake they thought was the real one, displayed so proudly in the Louvre. He winked at her. She stared back at him condescendingly.
Large, heavy double doors stood shut on either side of the hall. He ignored them and turned towards the small unobtrusive door behind the stairs, leaving a narrow path as he shuffled over the dust shrouded, limestone tiles.
One would have expected the door, its patina no longer a thing of beauty, to creak and groan as Marvin pushed it open, but as he had oiled the hinges only last week, this was not the case and it swung with ease onto a passageway of indeterminate length. Even with the candle it was impossible to see the far end.
He gingerly wrapped his fingers around a brass door handle, and listened. Indistinguishable voices came from beyond the panelled wood. He hesitated before pushing it open to reveal the room on the other side. A cavernous room with high ceilings; shelves full of rusting iron cooking utensils, a cold, empty hearth, no longer dancing with merry flames. A brown stained sink stood along one wall. There were no windows.
Four men, wrapped in loose rotting shrouds, sat around a large table on rough-hewn benches, two to the left, two to the right. They glowed a phosphorescent green in the dark airless kitchen and each of them had something missing. Armless looked up as Marvin came into the room. The rest of them, Eyeless, Toothless and Legless followed his gaze. All showed ruptured and pustule laden skin, which was otherwise dry and desiccated. They watched his every move as guilt struggled with defiance, fighting for dominance. In the centre of the table lay a discarded and crumpled, orange, blue and gold wrapper.
Marvin stared at it. Eyeless, with his one good eye, looked first at Marvin, then at the others. Armless pointed his one good hand, his left one, at Toothless. Legless kicked Armless under the table with his one good leg. They all stared at Marvin, who was looking very angry indeed. His lips were drawn back showing a row of pearly white dentures, almost blinding in their immaculate superiority. His eyes bulged as if to burst and his eyebrows locked together.
“You greedy fiends. You greedy, greedy fiends. What about the rest of us?”
Then he lowered his head, dropping his shoulders. He had been looking forward in sweaty palmed anticipation, and now disappointment welled up inside him. He gently eased himself onto a stool at the end of the table nearest the door.
Toothless tried to say something but instead sprayed a mouthful of soggy crumbs across the wooden surface, and over Marvin who lifted a shaky hand and wiped the mess from his face on the sleeve of his threadbare coat.
As the four men watched every movement in silence, Armless slid his fingers towards the empty wrapper.
“Leave it!” Marvin glared at him. “There’s no point trying to hide it now.” He reached out, picked it up and read the packaging. ‘McVities HOBNOBS.’ “You guys know these are my favourite.” He sighed.
He did not see Eyeless wink at Legless, who smirked.
Marvin stood, wiped a solitary tear from his cheek and turned towards the door, knocking over the stool. He bent, his back clicking and groaning, to replace it. As he did so he heard a flurry of movement and sniggering around the table. He cautiously unwound himself, allowing his left eye to peer above the top edge. Then the yellowed orb with its network of fine red lines open wide. He grinned and continued to stand, the dentures coming into their own like a crescent moon rising over the sea.
“Oh, my wonderful, wonderful friends.”
Armless coughed and cleared his throat, then falteringly began singing, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…..” Legless and Eyeless joined in heartily and Toothless continued to pebbledash the table top with wet biscuit.
Marvin wiped a sleeve across his eyes as he waited for them to finish. There, in the centre of the table was a simple birthday cake surrounded by packets of Hobnobs; the plain ones and as a special treat, the chocolate covered ones as well. On top of the cake, carefully placed pieces of Hobnob, created a crazy paving effect.
“Thank you, thank you, and thank you. Pray forgive my anger.”
He wandered over to the sink and returned a few minutes later with a large knife with which he proceeded to cut five slices. Eyeless produced an uncorked bottle and Toothless five glasses.
It was a merry little party and when the contents of the bottle were finished and the portions of cake eaten, the four ghouls again wished Marvin a happy birthday before hopping, stumbling and lurching over to the back wall of the kitchen. Four ancient crumbling bricked up alcoves were spaced at regular intervals along it. Old lime mortar filled the joints. The lads faced each other and bid fond partings, promising to meet up again the following day.
Adieu,” “Au revior,” “Auf weidersein,” “Catch you later, mes amis” and “Arrivaderci”. Then each passed through the wall into his own bricked up cell.
Marvin watch them leave and set out a silver tray with the biscuits and thin slices of birthday cake. He had to make it go around so the portions could not be too generous.
Finally, he balanced the candle holder on the tray and retraced his steps, back out of the kitchen, along the passage, and through into the entrance hall. He offered the treats to each statue in turn. One after the other took an offering and nodded their gratitude. In the case of the Venus de Milo, the real one, he was obliged to place cake between her delicate lips then wait to brush away any crumbs. He winked at her again before resuming his journey across the hall and up the stairs, a step at a time and leaning his hip on the banister for support.
Back in the silent hallway, he paused to catch his breath as the expectant susurration returned. “Here you are my lovelies, a special treat today, not just biscuits but Hobnob cake as well.” He placed the tray on the hall table and scuffed away to the whispered sounds of “For he’s a jolly good fellow”.
He closed the bedroom door behind him, knowing the tray would be empty in the morning.