And there we have it. The stories of the Ghosts of Much
Malarkey Manor have been told.
‘Do you think it’s worked?’ says Mrs Pumphrey, as the last
of the audience leaves the Big Top Yurt and the cast of the Christmas Story
2023 set about clearing the stage away in preparation for their after-show
party. ‘Do you think the ghosts will be able to stay on in the new Manor?’
‘I don’t know,’ admits Mrs Miggins. ‘I mean, I thought the
stories were told well and we did our best as we always do, but only time will
tell. We’ll just have to wait until we can move into the new Manor and that
won’t be for a while yet.’
Call it serendipity, call it coincidence, call it a spooky coming together of time and events (or call it a timely manipulation of a plot point, it you like) but at that VERY moment, the project manager of the new Manor build appears through the curtains of the Big Top.
‘Yoo hoo!’ she calls. ‘I thought I’d wait until your
performance was over before popping in. I bring glad tidings of great joy!’ she
says.
‘Hello Gabriella!’ says Mrs Miggins. ‘We’re just clearing
the decks for our party. You and the building team are welcome to join us, if
you like.’
‘Oooh, thank you!’ says Gabriella Angel. (For that is her name - what else??) ‘I’d love to stay.
However, everyone else has gone home now.’
‘Of course,’ says Mrs Miggins. ‘Off to have a break with
their friends and families from all their hard work, as is only right and
proper at this time of year.’
Gabriella Angel laughs. ‘They’ve gone home because we’ve
finished building, Mrs Miggins. The new Much Malarkey Manor is all ready for
you to move into. Looks like you’ll be in there for Christmas Day.’
A sudden shocked silence spreads throughout the Big Top.
Everyone has heard this amazing and unexpected news.
‘All that I need to do,’ says Gabriella, ‘is hand over the
keys.’ And she shakes a jingling key ring at Mrs Miggins. ‘Shall we go to your
new front door?’
Well! What excitement! All thoughts of a party dissolve as the
Missus Miggins, Poo, Pumphrey and Slocombe, Tango Pete, Bambino, Ptolemy
Pheasant, Kenneth the Phantomime, Nell and, of course, the Much Malarkey Manor
ghosts, head out of the Big Top into the night towards their brand-new home. Even
William Shakespeare emerges from the shepherd’s hut library, curious about all
the hoo-ha and realising that no one likes a self-pitying grumpypants so he
might as well join in the season’s festivities and maybe arrange for a
substantial donation to be made to the local cat charity. They all congregate
at the huge front door upon which Gabriella has thoughtfully hung a beautiful
wreathe of hellebore flowers.
‘Here it is, then,’ says Gabriella. ‘We didn’t think we’d
have it done in time for Christmas but the kitchen delivery came good in the
end and, well, we knew how much it would mean to you to spend Christmas in Much
Malarkey Manor, especially after what happened last year.’
And with a small bow, she hands the bunch of keys to Mrs
Miggins, who looks like she can’t quite believe what is happening and stands as
still as a ghost, as if any movement will somehow dissolve the new home that
stands before them.
Mrs Poo nudges Mrs Miggins in the ribs.
‘Come on, Laetitia – let’s go in,’ she whispers. ‘And we can
find out if our ghost storytelling efforts have paid off.’
‘I’m not sure if I’m brave enough to find out,’ says Mrs
Miggins. ‘I know we didn’t know we had ghosts at the old Manor, but now I’ve
met them, I’m not sure I can live without them in the new house.’
‘Just open the door, will you?’ says Mrs Poo.
Tentatively, Mrs Miggins puts the key in the door lock and
turns the handle. The huge door swings open. Mrs Poo reaches for the light
switch and the hallway is flooded with the lights of a huge chandelier.
Everyone steps inside. Although the house looks a bit
different and smells very new, they all know immediately that they have come
home.
‘It looks the same only somehow better,’ says Mrs Pumphrey,
stepping forward in the centre of the hall. ‘It’s new, but feels old, too.’
‘I suppose,’ says Mrs Slocombe, ‘that there is little point
in experiencing destruction and loss if it leaves you unable to appreciate the
growth of something new.’
‘And we all knew that life was going to be different,’ says
Mrs Poo. ‘That we couldn’t go back to how things were, not after what
happened.’
‘And I don’t think I’d want to,’ says Mrs Miggins, finally
able to speak as she looks around her. ‘If you can’t look at life in new ways,
you’ll never make progress, or go on new adventures, or see the world in a
different light.’
‘Look!’ says the Phantomime, suddenly, and everyone turns
back to the front door.
Brian, the oldest ghost, is standing on the edge of the
threshold. He is feeling a mixture of trepidation that, if the ghost stories
haven’t been told well enough, then the next step could be his last. But if
they HAVE been told well enough, then the next step will cement him once again
to be able to continue to live in a place he knows so well and loves so much.
‘Here goes,’ he says, closing his eyes. And then he takes a
confident and bold step across the threshold.
Everyone holds their breath. No one knows what to expect.
Would a Much Malarkey Manor without the old energies of the lives of people
from its past somehow feel empty of something special and important? If they
vanished, would there be a void left unfilled until the next passing of a being
into spirit? How would that feel? To have gaps where once there were none?
Remember, thinks Mrs Miggins to herself, that Nature abhors
a vacuum. Whatever happens, everything WILL be made whole again. Somehow.
Brian is standing on the new door mat, his eyes wide and
sparkling, his face shining with a broad grin. Mrs Miggins notices the door mat
is printed with the words: ‘Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here.’
And she, too, smiles.
And then Brian is laughing as, one by one, the other ghosts
step across the new threshold and into a new Manor that is as much theirs as
the old one.
‘It worked,’ sighs Mrs Miggins with relief. ‘It only
bloomin’ well went and worked.’
Comments
But well impressed that the Manor could be rebuilt in a year. That NEVER happens on Grand Designs..
🦆