Excerpt: The Herb Garden

“Mum! Mum! Someone’s moving into the witch’s house across the road!”
Linda Stone sighed and placed her knitting beside her on the sofa, rose and walked across the room to where her six year old son stood in the doorway. “Robert, honey, it’s not the witch’s house,” she chided him, putting her arm around his shoulders. “It’s Mrs. Porter’s house. How many times must I tell you? Mrs. Porter is not a witch.”
“But she has a broomstick,” protested little Robert solemnly. “And a black cat. And she wears witches’ clothes,” he finished resolutely. “See, I told you she was a witch.”
It was no use, thought Linda, inwardly resigning herself to the fact that her children were never going to stop the witch business, no matter how often she told them off. “So, has Mrs. Porter left?” she asked, surprised. She hadn’t given any such indication, or come over to say goodbye.
“Yup. She jumped on her broomstick and flew away and never came back. Alicia saw her fly away,” he added, “so there.”
“I saw her fly away,” echoed Alicia, who was by now standing behind Robert, looking rather serious. “Away, away, out the window an’ into the sky an’ away, last night.”
Linda wondered what exactly Robert had been telling her, and made a mental note to find some long term solution to prevent them from terrorising the neighbour during their playtime. Of course, it wasn’t direct terrorising, just acting as though she was a witch around the home, but Robert believed it sincerely, and had obviously long since convinced four year old Alicia of such stories.
“Are you sure Mrs. Porter isn’t just having visitors?” Linda asked them carefully.
“Nope, there’s a big moving truck outside!” exclaimed Robert, and ran to the window to make sure it was still there. Linda looked, and saw that her son was right.
“Bruuum bruuum bruuum,” Robert said excitedly, and motored off down the hallway to the front door, with Alicia in tow. Linda followed, interested in what exactly was going on across the road.
At Number 13, true to Robert’s word, a large moving truck was parked up the driveway, and a handful of young men were unloading various pieces of furniture and taking them inside the house, under the directions of another man, who stood by the open front door. Three young children – a boy of about Robert’s age and two girls who might have been twins of about Alicia’s age – were chasing each other around the front lawn.
Linda scanned the porch, but there were no sign of any of Mrs. Porter’s pot plants, and a search of the windows showed that all her ornaments had vanished, too. So she had left on the quiet, or at least without telling the Stones. Linda felt a prick of annoyance. They hadn’t exactly been close friends, but she would always call “Hello!” across the street every morning while collecting the daily newspaper and milk, and receive a cheerful “Good morning!” from somewhere in the depths of Mrs. Porter’s herb garden. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even noticed a ‘For Sale’ sign out the front. And wasn’t it only last week she was standing by her neighbour’s letterbox, discussing the qualities of marjoram and parsley with her?
Linda shook off her puzzled thoughts and strolled across the street to greet the strangers who were suddenly her new neighbours. Her two kids had joined the three new ones, and already they had organised and were playing a game of tag, so it was high time she introduced herself.
A woman had by now come out of the house and was standing beside the man who had been giving instructions. Linda presumed that they must be the new owners of the house, and approached them.
“Good afternoon, my name is Linda Stone,” she smiled warmly, extending her hand. “I live across the road at Number 12. Those are my kids,” she added, pointing to where the children were playing together – or had been, for they had now disappeared.
The man took Linda’s hand with a strong grip and shook it. “We are very pleased to meet you, Linda. I am James Beard, and this is my wife, Julie.” Julie smiled and shook Linda’s hand too. “We’re glad to have such friendly and welcoming neighbours.”
“My husband, John, is at work, unfortunately,” apologised Linda. “Do come over for a cup of coffee, though.”
The Beards accepted her invitation, so Linda looked around for her children, only to discover that they were nowhere in sight, again, as usual. “Robert! Alicia!” she called, but got no reply.
“Oh, they’ll be fine,” Julie assured her. “With my kids around the place, it’s the neighbours that’ll be in danger, not the kids themselves.” Linda nodded knowingly, trying to avoid thinking of all the things that might possibly go wrong if her children got up to any mischief with the Beards’ kids. Instead, she escorted James and Julie across the road to her house, sparing Number 13 a last fleeting glance before leaving the neighbourhood to the mercy of the five youngsters.
“So, where did you come from?” Linda enquired as she placed three mugs on the bench and switched the jug on, gesturing for the Beards to take a seat.
James pulled a chair out from the dining table and sat down, his wife following suit. “We used to live in Blenheim,” he answered. “I’m an accountant, and Julie has a degree in biochemistry. We moved here when she was accepted for a position as a lecturer at the University of Otago. I was lucky enough to get a work transfer. What do you and your husband do?”
“Well, John is a solicitor at a local firm, and I look after the kids,” Linda replied. “Robert is six years old and Alicia is four. Robert goes to Maori Hill Primary School.
“Yes, our kids are about that age, too,” Julie said, smiling. “Dougal will be six in a couple of months, and Gina and Pam are four as well. They’re twins. We’ve enrolled Dougal at Maori Hill Primary for the coming year, so it’s great that he’ll know someone already. He’s very sociable, is our Dougal. He talks to pretty much anyone who will listen.”
The jug started boiling, and Linda poured out the drinks. She handed James and Julie their cups of coffee, and picking up her own mug of tea, led them down the hallway to the living room. She moved her knitting to the coffee table, and sat down on an armchair, while her guests made themselves comfortable on the sofa.
“Do you know of any good kindergartens in the area?” Julie asked. “It would be especially handy if they did after school care as well. Our work hours aren’t exactly kid friendly.
“I send Alicia to Maori Hill Preschool, which is near the primary school,” said Linda. “She goes Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and I look after her on the in between days, but they don’t do after school care, I’m afraid. I can babysit your kids after school, though,” she offered. “It wouldn’t be an inconvenience. And any weekday that they don’t attend.”
The Beards thanked her profusely, deciding that they would sign their daughters up for the same hours as Alicia.
Linda heard the back door open and shut very noisily, and both sets of kids came stampeding down the hallway. “Mum, Mum, can we have a biscuit?” pleaded Robert, appearing in the doorway with the others.
She looked at the clock. “It’s four o’clock, honey. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for tea.”
“You’re having biscuits,” he accused, pointing at the coffee table where Linda had laid some out on a plate.
“Oh, alright,” she agreed. “But only one each, okay?” she added, as they pounced on the table.
“Okay,” they all chorused, followed by “Thank you!” By the time they had descended on the plate, claimed their biscuit and dispersed, slamming the door behind them again, the dish was empty, even though Linda was convinced that there had been at least seven or eight there before their arrival.
James and Julie stayed for about an hour, then left, announcing that they were going out to James’ parents’ place for tea, while politely declining Linda’s invitation for them to stay for the meal, saying that they might come over later next week. “We would love to meet your husband,” James smiled, and Julie nodded enthusiastically. “Just give us a call when you can have us over.” Linda took down their number and stuck it on the fridge.
Outside, Robert and Dougal were trying to drag something out of the hedge by the tail, which looked suspiciously like the next door neighbour’s cat, poor thing, and Alicia and the twins were playing with Alicia’s dolls in the driveway. At their father’s call, Gina and Pam reluctantly put down their toys and ran to stand with their mother, but it took half a minute, followed by the threat of an early bedtime, to pry Dougal away from his spot by the hedge. Linda echoed James’ warnings to Robert, who relinquished the cat and walked back to the house, waving goodbye to his newly found friend. The despondent feline dashed across the neighbour’s yard and disappeared through the back door, clearly glad to be rid of its torturers.
The Beards crossed the street to go home, waving in farewell. Linda escorted Robert and Alicia inside and, sending them off to the bathroom to wash their hands, returned to the kitchen to prepare tea. John had requested spaghetti bolognaise, reminded a note blu-tacked to the rangehood that she had penned that morning, so she set about cooking some mince.
It had been a pleasant day. Linda enjoyed meeting people, especially new neighbours, but she still couldn’t help but wonder why Mrs. Porter had disappeared so suddenly without any warning. She had asked the Beards, but they didn’t know anything about the house’s previous occupant. It was all very strange, she thought as she added raw spaghetti to a pot of simmering water, and she hoped that she could somehow get to the bottom of it, although expected that it was far too late to discover the truth now.