A Cuppa

A Cuppa

D. A. Ratliff

She lived in a little cottage up the lane. You know the place. A narrow leaf-strewn path through the woods glowing from dappled sunlight shining down. At the path’s end, a stone wall seemingly built before the dawn of time—the stones worn and pitted, moss in the crevices, and ivy creeping over the top—enclosed a tiny cottage. The arched wooden gate with openings in the slats allowed you to peek into the small flower-filled yard.

As a child, I remember hearing the adults’ hushed voices speak of Madame Idella Enstone. They warned us to stay away from the cottage as they considered Madame Enstone eccentric. Again, you know children. We went anyway.

I always blamed Derrick Jones for the trouble we got into as kids. He was a year older than we were but in our year at school. Taller and older made him think he was in charge, and we let him. That we followed him anywhere was a testament to our youth.

We were a motley crew—four fourteen-year-olds who became fast friends the summer before and were inseparable. My best friend, Pandora Fox, was the Vicar’s daughter and quite the dichotomy. She was at once daring, but just as quickly, remembering her father’s position pulled her back to reality. Derrick Jones’ dad owned the pub in town, and his parents worked twenty-four hours a day. At least, it seemed like that. Derrick was on his own most of the time and got into trouble often. Magus MacGregor’s mother opened a veterinarian’s office, and his father served as the headmaster at our school. My name is Agatha Lane. My father is the police detective inspector for the area, and my mother is a nurse. We were normal kids, but things around us were not always normal.

We first snuck to Madame Enstone’s on a cold October day. We followed Merrie Lassiter, who was eighteen, four years older than us, as she hurried down the path. Merrie was a plain girl who cared for little besides books, but rumors around the village were that she was also crazy about the hot local rugby player, who never spoke to her. Darting in and out of the trees, we tried to keep from giggling as we shadowed her. She hesitated momentarily at the gate before opening it and entering the garden. Once she disappeared, we approached the gate, hiding behind the stone wall, taking turns peeking through the gate to look into the cottage.

Pandora leaned over my shoulder. “Can you see?”

“No. There’s a lamp on and a cat in the window. I can’t see anything else.”

Derrick motioned to Magus, his best friend. “Shimmy up that tree and tell us what you see.”

“Me? You climb the tree.”

A sharp look from Derrick and Magus scurried up the branches, high enough to see into the cottage. He whispered from his perch. “The old lady is serving her a cuppa.”

The wind picked up, and a thin tree branch slapped Magus in the face causing him to lose his grip on the tree limb where he had perched. Quick thinking by Derrick broke Magus’s fall, but Magus cried out as he fell, disturbing the forest’s silence. Afraid the old lady had heard, we ran down the path as fast as we dared, taking refuge in the vicarage at the opposite end.

Pandora led us to a guest bedroom on the second floor that offered a view of the path, and we waited for nearly forty-five minutes before Merrie appeared and headed into the village. As it was almost dusk, Derrick, Magus, and I headed home with the mystery of Madame Enstone unsolved.

It was a week after Christmas when Pandora pounded on my front door. My parents, older brother Quinton, and I returned from visiting my grandparents in London that afternoon. My mother opened the door, and Pandora raced past her to me. Then realized my mother was still present.

“You seem quite excited about something, Pandora.”

My friend glanced at me and then at my mother. “Oh, just happy to have Agatha back, Ms. Lane.”

“Good.” Mother slipped on her coat and grabbed her purse. “I am off to the market. We need a few things. The tin with your grandmother’s cookies is on the counter if you two want a snack.”

The second my mother closed the door behind her, Pandora grabbed my arms. “Remember Merrie, who went to see Madame Enstone?”

“Yes. What?”

“My older sister and her friend were talking on Boxing Day. Seems as though Merrie and that rugby player are getting married.”

“Really? The guy who wouldn’t even talk to her?”

“Yes, Matilda and her friend said that on All Hallows Eve, they saw Merrie and the guy together, and now they are engaged.”

I plopped down on the couch. “Do you think those stories about Madame Enstone being a witch might be true?”

“I don’t know, Agatha, but Matilda said something about a love potion.”

“We need to tell the guys. Derrick and Magus won’t be back until after the new year. Then we need to check this out.”

The New Year came, and we spent much of our free time watching the lane for who came and went to Madame Enstone’s over the winter months. We saw four people visit in that time and snooped around to find out that all four of them had troubles that seemed to disappear after they walked down the path. It was the beginning of March when we had gathered at the vicarage on the pretense of studying, but we were staring at the lane, waiting for Kenny Walmsley to show up.

Derrick overheard Walmsley tell someone at the pub that he was at his wits end with his dairy and cheese business. He was losing money and needed new clients. He didn’t know what to do, but he needed help with two kids and a new baby on the way.

It was past five, and we were about to give up when Walmsley appeared and headed toward Enstone’s cottage.

I looked at Derrick, who had his face pressed against the window. “How did you know he’d go see her?”

“He was talking to Mr. Tom. You know, the old guy who found that old wooden box of rare Roman coins that turned out to be worth some money. He told Walmsley to see Madame Enstone, and she could help. That she’d helped him.”

Magus pointed to the path. “You think he’s going to ask her for help?”

None of us knew, but we waited. When Walmsley returned an hour later, I could have sworn he was smiling. We vowed to keep an eye on what happened to him.

By the beginning of June, Walmsley was the talk of the town. At the Founding Fete held each year in April to mark the village’s founding, he set up a cheese stand, and a chef from London tasted his products. Within a month, TV stations and the London newspapers ran features on his cheese, and his sales skyrocketed. We sat on the pub’s patio, drinking orange juice and discussing what had happened.

Pandora shook her head. “What do we know about her? Whenever I ask my parents, they tell me to stay away from her and change the subject.”

“Yeah. I get the same thing. I did hear my dad say she had been seen in town walking with a couple of women that no one knew, a ginger and a brunette.” I drank the rest of my juice. “We need to find someone who knows.” Then it hit me. “I’m going to talk to Merrie.”

~~~

I loved the library. Every time I walked through those heavy wooden doors, I felt euphoric, transported into an inner sanctum created especially for me. It wasn’t, but to a fourteen-year-old, it was all mine. I didn’t feel that way when I walked in to talk to Merrie. My hands shook. I had never spoken to her before and was about to ask about visiting Madame Enstone. What would she say if she didn’t want anyone to know?

The librarian at the desk told me where to find her, in the history stack returning books to the shelves. I cleared my throat, and she turned and smiled at me.

“Can I help you?”

Taking a breath, I spoke the words I had rehearsed. “I am Agatha Long, and I’m doing a paper on interesting characters who live in the village.”

Merrie seemed surprised. “You can’t mean me?”

That threw me a bit. “Uh, no… I want to know what you can tell me about Madame Enstone.”

Her eyes widened briefly, then softened. “Ah… Madame Enstone. I wasn’t aware anyone knew that I had spoken to her.”

“I hope you don’t mind my asking. Someone saw you heading to her cottage, and they told me when I asked about her.” Her right eyebrow raised, and I added. “My friend is the Vicar’s daughter. She saw you enter the path to Madame Enstone’s a while back. Told me maybe you had an interesting story.”

She smiled again. “I have no interesting story. I felt a bit down and heard she was a good listener. I visited, we chatted, and she served me a cuppa—the most delicious tea in the loveliest china cup. I left feeling wonderful, but truly no story of interest. Just a nice chat.”

She turned toward the shelves again, and I sensed she didn’t want to talk any longer. I didn’t mind as my courage waned. My dad might be a detective, but I don’t think I’m good at it.

~~~

We struck out as amateur sleuths. For weeks we waited for someone to visit the cottage. Derrick thought we weren’t vigilant enough, but we’d spent so much time at the vicarage Pandora’s father joked he had adopted us. Our fixation with Madame Enstone seemed abnormal even to us, but it was a small village, and we had to entertain ourselves somehow.

School was out for the session, and we had gathered again at the vicarage but in the rear garden. We were playing croquet when Magus motioned to the path. A man approached and turned down the narrow lane. We exchanged excited glances, dropped our mallets, and followed him.

The warm early summer brought thick vegetation, and staying off the path proved difficult. We held back, trying to be quiet, and reached the stone wall after the man entered the cottage. Derrick glared at Magus and glanced upward. Magus groused but climbed the tree for a better view.

Crouched next to the gate, we relied on our outlook to tell us what was happening, and Magus motioned that he couldn’t see anything. We waited for what felt like an eternity before the man emerged. Magus had no time to climb out of the tree, so he pushed back against the trunk. We slipped around the wall to blend into the vegetation. The gate creaked, and we held our breath while the man walked past and out of sight.

Pandora grabbed my arm. “We still don’t know what’s going on.”

Derrick stood. “Only way is if we just knock on the door. Pretend we’re lost.”

He had a point, but I was nervous. I started to tell Derrick how nervous when Magus fell out of the tree.

He landed with a thud and a loud grunt. Before we could get to him, a voice rang out.

“Who’s there?” The gate opened, and Madame Enstone stood before us.

She wasn’t at all as I expected, and from the open-mouthed stares of my friends, they thought the same. Madame Enstone was about my grandmother’s age, thin, with mousey brown hair lightly streaked with gray, wearing a tweed skirt, white blouse, and jumper. She reminded me more of one of my teachers than whatever she was. She nodded to Derrick, who was helping Magus up.

“Bring your friend and come inside. I want to make certain he is not hurt.”

Her voice affected us as it was mesmerizing and soothing. We did as she said. I helped Derrick support Magus, and we entered the cottage with Pandora following.

The cottage interior reminded me of my Aunt Ester’s—filled with plants, flowers, and chintz upholstered furniture. I had to admit that I expected a dark, ominous room, not one filled with light from a sizable, beveled window at the rear of the long parlor.

Magus eased onto the couch, and Madame Enstone bent over him. She peered into his eyes and placed her hand flat on his chest before standing up. “He appears unharmed, only bruised. I will make him a special tea so he will feel better.” She paused. “And I will make you tea as well.”

She disappeared through a swinging door. We looked at each other and took a collective breath. Pandora plopped into an overstuffed chair, and a fluffy ginger cat jumped into her lap. “I can’t believe how pretty this place is.” She was smiling as she stroked the cat’s head.

Derrick stood at the window. “This looks like my grandmother’s yard in Devon. I loved going there when I was little.”

I joined him. The stone wall encircled the entire yard that held flowering plants and vegetables. An alcove in the wall had a cushioned bench, chairs, and a brick fire pit. “Your grandmother’s garden must be lovely.”

“Was lovely. She died when I was six, but I loved playing in her garden.”

Before I could say more, Madame Enstone returned with a tray of teacups, biscuits, and a teapot. Another large cat with sleek black fur followed her into the parlor. “Please have a seat.”

We sat, and she handed Magus an already-filled cup. “Drink this, laddie. It will keep you from hurting.” He took the cup and sipped it as she poured tea from the pot into cups for us.

“Now help yourselves, children, and have a biscuit.”

We all grabbed a teacup. I held mine, admiring the fine bone china and the lovely Asian design, much like the service my grandmother had. She taught me about tea services when I was eight and even held high tea for my friends and me. I looked up to find Madame Enstone watching me. She tilted her head slightly as she glanced at the cup and saucer.

“You seem to like the teacup.’

I nodded. “It is lovely.” I reached for a biscuit to hide my nervousness and bit into the best shortbread I had ever eaten.

“What brings you children to the cottage?”

A glance at my friends and I knew we were frozen, not knowing what to say. Pandora saved us. “Oh, we were chasing my cat who escaped the vicarage. Magnus thought he saw him in that tree and climbed up. Lucky that he wasn’t hurt when he fell.”

That she rushed her words seemed not to surprise Madame Enstone. “I see. Well,” she patted the two cats now sitting beside her, “I know a few things about cats. I am sure your pet will come home when he is hungry. Just put some food outside by the door.”

Pandora murmured, “Yes, ma’am.” Madame Enstone began asking who we were and how we enjoyed our summer. When we left about an hour later, she knew a lot about us, but we knew little more than we already did about her.

I remember the walk home that afternoon. Each of us was smiling and content. Pandora’s mum said she could hear us laughing before we left the path. We never went back to the cottage after that day. Our curiosity sated, or was it something else that kept us away?

~~~

Sixteen years passed, and the four of us remained friends. I married a police officer Martin Gray, who became a detective with my dad, and we had two children, Liam and Elyse. Derrick and his wife ran the pub now that his parents retired, and Magus had become Vicar and married with three children. Pandora’s dad became a Bishop, and her parents moved to London.

Pandora remained my closest friend and nearly my sister-in-law if my older brother Quinn had his way. But it didn’t happen, and she married Dennis Cravatt. How can I put this politely—a most despicable man? Pandora had gone to nursing school and returned to the village to work in the regional hospital. She had not married for years after turning down Quinn, but after traveling to Brighton on holiday, she returned with Cravatt. They had been married for six years, and the marriage was nothing but trouble.

How much trouble I didn’t realize until Pandora appeared on my doorstep one night at nearly midnight–her lip cut, dried blood caked in the corner of her mouth, and her left eye swollen and bruised. The years of verbal abuse had escalated into physical abuse, yet she refused to leave him.

I was happy and couldn’t bear to see my friend this way. She had begged me not to tell my husband as she was afraid he would arrest him, and he would have. I couldn’t keep that from him, and he went to talk to Dennis, a chat that resulted in his hitting her again.

What could I do? Marty couldn’t arrest him unless she pressed charges, and she refused. That he would hurt her more the next time petrified me. And there would be a next time. I wracked my brain, trying to think of anything I could do. Then when putting away the teacups, it dawned on me. Where did people go when they were in trouble? They went to see Madame Enstone.

She was still around. I’d even seen her in the village with the two women who accompanied her in the past. Funny, I never had the urge to speak to her. Until now, that is, and that was what I was going to do.

The following morning after Marty left for work and the kids for school, I drove into town and then walked to the vicarage. Magus’s wife was quite the gardener, and the grounds had never looked lovelier. The opening to the lane was trimmed and surrounded by beautiful spring flowers, and the aroma of hyacinth, freesia, and lilac wafted toward me as I passed.

A feeling of deja vu caused me to shiver as I walked along the path. I could feel Derrick, Magus, and Pandora with me, but I was on a mission and put them out of my head. I reached the cottage as nervous as I was at fourteen but more resolved. I opened the gate, walked through the lush spring plants, and knocked on the door.

Shock was my first reaction upon seeing her. She looked as she had years ago. She smiled and waved an arm for me to enter.

“Please have a seat, Agatha. Let me make you a cuppa.”

She remembered my name, and that made me more nervous. I sat on the couch, soon joined by both cats. The ginger one climbed into my lap, purring. Madame Enstone returned with a tray of tea and biscuits and sat across from me. As she poured, she nodded to the cat.

“I see Rune has taken to you. She always senses when someone is troubled. Raven is the warier of the two. She likes to know what the problem is before she becomes involved.” She handed me one of the beautiful cups from the first visit. “Now, I sense you are troubled by a friend’s situation. Tell me.”

I sipped tea, and I talked. I talked more than I ever had to anyone about Pandora. About how my brother had loved and lost her and the horrible situation she was in now. When I took a breath, I realized I felt calmer and more resolute about helping her.

“Madame, I do not know why I came here. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

Her brilliant green eyes sparkled. “You know exactly why you are here. You have always known. I find myself able to solve issues that keep others from being happy. I usually see those in need and not their friends, which tells me you have sensed who I am but refuse to admit it.”

“I don’t know what you mean?” I suspected that I did but was too frightened to say so.

“Yes, you do. The fact is, I cannot make things change, but I can influence outcomes. The results are always the choice of the one in need. Your friend is in need, and I will help.”

She left the parlor not for the kitchen but through another door. I nibbled on another cookie, and the black cat she called Raven decided to lay next to me. She must think my cause worthy. I jumped a bit when Madame Enstone returned to the parlor. My nerves were still a bit on edge.

“Serve him this.” She handed me a handmade tea bag. “But remember, what he does is of his choosing. This will only make him reveal his true nature.”

“Him? You mean I should serve this tea to Dennis?”

“Yes, but only to him. To no others and burn the teabag after brewing.”

“But what will it do?”

“We will not know until it is done.”

I left Madame Enstone’s cottage with a tea bag and a plan.

~~~

As I feared for my friend, I didn’t wait. What concerned me was her comment that his true nature would be revealed. I knew if his true nature were worse than we had seen, it would be horrid. I invited Pandora and Dennis to dinner on a night when I knew Marty would be gone to London for a Met meeting. I would tell them he was called away on a case. The kids would stay with my mother.

My nerves had never been more frayed as I opened the door with a smile. Dennis barreled into the house as if he owned it, pouring himself a whiskey without asking. The evening went as I expected. He monopolized the conversation telling us about his latest conquest. He was an estate agent and talked himself up more than he talked up the property. I could tell Pandora was on edge but knew she was safe as long as she was with me. After dinner, we retired to the parlor, where I would serve dessert and tea.

As I dropped the special teabag into a teacup and poured hot water to seep, I admired the beautiful bone china. When I bought it, I loved the Asian design, much like my grandmother’s. Now it reminded me of Madame Enstone.

I served the tea and cake, petrified that I would accidentally serve the tea to Pandora or myself, but I didn’t. I tried not to stare when he drank from the cup. I suppose I was waiting for him to throw a fit or something. However, he just remained his obnoxious self. When Pandora asked for another cup of tea, I was sure she wanted to extend her stay. I diverted him from more tea with a drink from Marty’s favorite Scotch.

Pandora wanted to stay, but I could not delay them from staying past ten. Dennis wanted to go to the pub. I hugged my friend and closed the door, tears spilling down my cheeks. I had done all that I could.

~~~

The call came at four in the morning. Pandora was hysterical, and I rushed to her. Dennis had dropped her at home, saying he didn’t want to be saddled with the likes of her. He wanted to have fun, and she would be in the way. The constable with her told me that Dennis had gotten totally out of control and yelled that he was tired of being something he wasn’t. He had been drinking heavily at the pub. Derrick tried to stop him, but he sped off in his car. He lost control and plunged off a bridge into a river and died.

As I held my sobbing friend, the constable recanting Dennis’s words replayed in my mind—he was tired of being something he wasn’t. He was finally being his true self.

~~~

I stood with my husband and children at the graveside service as Magus led the mourners in prayer. Mourners. Dennis had no family, and I imagined no one present shed many tears for him. As the service ended, my heart warmed as Pandora turned to Quinn, who walked her out of the cemetery.

We followed, and then I noticed Madame Enstone and her two friends, the brunette woman and ginger-haired woman, standing on the edge of the churchyard. With a slight nod, her green eyes twinkling, Madame Enstone and her friends departed. She had been right all along. I did know who she was but did not know what to call her. I will call her our fairy godmother.