The Fallen Parler: Part One (A supernatural mystery thriller) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Doctor’
    There was a still, bottle-green pond, over which stood an old tapered bridge; this served as the Willow Lodge ’s only connection to town. At this time of the day, the pond was unusually motionless, despite the reverberating sounds of nature about it. The gentle trill of toads leaping about the large pond, and the incessant chirp of grassland crickets all gave the Willow Lodge a serene disposition. The cottage was embroiled with picturesque arrays of flowers; neatly trimmed hedges demarcated Dr. Willow’s land. A serrated pathway led to a large red door, etched, in sophisticated calligraphy, with the words ‘ The Willow Lodge’ . The same logo was inked into the rusty letterbox that had always leaned to one side of the cottage. The Willow Lodge was unlike anything Junior had ever seen. It was, in many ways, different from the Roterbee Manor back in London, which was stylish but not at all homely. This cottage was the polar opposite. It was as if the cottage had been designed to appear snug, and there was something more than its aesthetic landscape that abetted this notion. Once upon a time, a sweet little family must’ve lived here. Charlotte gawked at the lodge for some time, absorbing all the intricacies of her new home, before beginning down the pebbly path.
‘Look at that!’ exclaimed Charlotte, pointing at a hedge which had been moulded into a man.
‘Ze creative property of Dwayne, ze gardener,’ said Luchia, ‘he works on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.’
‘He must be very skilled,’ said Junior, ‘this place seems as if it was handcrafted by Picasso, himself.’
    Luchia dug into her handbag and pulled out a bulky set of keys. She fiddled between them until she found the right one.
    ‘Got ya,’ smirked the housekeeper, lugging at the large red door until it gave way.
    The Roterbee twins tip toed into the lobby. The entrance was dark and heavily festooned with glossy, Victorian wood. In some strange way, the insides of the cottage appeared less majestic than the outward landscape.
    After Luchia had granted them permission to explore their new home, Junior and Charlotte trotted into every room, endeavouring to note all the pieces of furniture and new, intriguing objects. It didn’t take long to assimilate that Dr. Willow was a hoarder of books, as in addition to his state-of-the-art library on the ground floor, the doctor had packed two of the four bedrooms with mighty stacks of literature, which towered from the ground to the ceiling. There was a narrow space to walk between them. One thing Dr. Willow loathed passionately was when his belongings were moved out of place; this was Luchia’s personal forewarning. And so, the Roterbee twins were not to touch anything… especially not anything of value. The doctor often got his way around here, and the housekeeper needn’t say it, for it was written over her face like a book. At first, Junior didn’t know what to make of Dr. Willow; his house, which bore no family portraits, gave little of persona away. One could survey the entire Willow Lodge, and the doctor would still be an utter mystery.
It was getting late and sundown was fast approaching. Luchia chaperoned the Roterbee twins about the grounds all evening; at suppertime, she invited them to her cabin at the backyard, offering tea and Romanian biscuits. Charlotte and Junior, who were both sta rving , could not refuse. Whilst the twins ran riot in the large cottage, familiarising themselves with every room, Luchia resourcefully delivered their suitcases to the allotted room. This room, on the second floor, was one of the two which Dr. Willow had not crammed with literature books, the other one was his own bedroom. The room was a great deal smaller than Charlotte’s bedroom had been back at the Roterbee Manor. She was less than pleased to learn that she would be sharing it with her brother. Junior called dibs on the top bunk before Charlotte had even entered the room. She dived into the