Hannah and Gretchen
by Mark Henson
Part 1
Jim and Andy were wearily crossing the grassy fields, during a hazy summers day of hiking. The English Yorkshire Moors were a great many miles away from their familiar US State of New Jersey. Jim would not admit it in front of Andy, but he was feeling kind of homesick.
The two young men were backpacking around the UK. Jim had relatives living in Northern England; part of his reason for the journey. Andy was Jim's college roommate and had tagged along with him. Andy was an unpopular guy, the kind of kid who got on the wrong side of people far too easily, due to a lack of tact and people skills. Jim was the only person in college crazy enough to hang around with him. They had been forced into a friendship ever since that fateful first day at elementary school when their old teacher Mrs Patterson had made them sit together in class, and for better or worse here they were now.
"Where did you put the goddam map, Jim?" frustratedly enquired Andy.
“I was using my smartphone app.”
“I thought you said there was no signal, around here?”
"The receptions kinda intermittent, it seems to be getting stronger now."
“Hey just admit it will you, we're lost in the frigging wilderness.”
Then just as the two young men reached the top of an exhausting hill climb, Jim managed to spy a big stone building on the other side of the slope. As far as he could tell it looked like a small guest house.
“Told you not to panic,” reassured Jim.
“Who was panicking?” shrugged Andy.
“Looks like this cosy cottage is our destination,” said Jim almost to himself, “otherwise we'll be pitching these tents out in the middle of nowhere for the second night running.”
Jim nodded to his friend to follow and they made their way steadily down the other side of the grassy slope. At the bottom of the hillside was a quaint old stone wall, which separated the fields from the deserted road in front of them. They both clambered over the low wall and crossed the road. In front of the house was a garden surrounded by a rickety wooden fence. They opened the fence gate and wandered up the garden path to the front door. Next to the door was a sign saying, 'The Oldroyd Guest House'.
“Where's the doorbell,” asked Andy. “have these people discovered electricity?”
“Shut it moron” scolded Jim.
Jim spotted a door knocker shaped like a lions head and proceeded to give it a good knock. They waited for an unusually long time. Then footsteps approached the doorway.
The door creaked open and before them stood a lady in her mid-forties, rather tall in height with long dark auburn hair and an imposing demeanour. Dressed in blue jeans and a check shirt, she was well above average for looks, but this was a little spoiled by the hardened expression on her face.
“Hello lads, my names Rose Oldroyd and I'm the owner of this establishment, what can I do for you?” she said in a slightly strong English Yorkshire accent.
“Hello ma'am, we would like to book a room for the night, please,” answered Jim.
“Well you'd both better come on in then,” said Rose, “follow me through into the reception area.”
The interior of the house was well decorated in a stereotypical fashion, kind of like you would expect in such an establishment. Lots of antique looking furniture, flowery wallpaper and curtains. Plus a slightly unusual musty smell hanging in the air. On the right-hand side of the reception was a closed door labelled 'common room' and to the left was the dining room. There was another closed rustic door at the far end of the reception; to the left of this door was a staircase.
Apart from the professional looking reception desk, standing in the middle of the left-hand wall, the house could almost have been mistaken for somebodies home rather than a guest house business premises.
“Well now lads, are you looking to stay overnight or wanting something more long term?”
“We just need a place to stay for just tonight, ma'am,” said Jim, “we'll be moving on in the morning.”
“Okay then, if I could kindly have your details,” asked Rose.
Jim filled out their details. Rose looked over the form, then back at Jim.
“So if you're from the State of New Jersey; so why are you wearing a Philadelphia Eagles American Football jacket?”
"In South Jersey, we tend to support the Eagles."
“So, you lads are mad about sport then?” said Rose, now seemingly more friendly with her hard demeanour beginning to soften.
“Yes, but we're not Jocks.”
“I agree, you lads certainly don't look like Scotsmen to me?”
“No ma'am, you see in the United States, Jocks are the guys in college who...”
“I know lad's; sorry I'm just joking with you. I get these terms, I've got relatives in Arkansas,” said Rose as she was double checking the paper work.
“It shows,” whispered Andy.
Jim lightly elbowed Andy in the ribs, their secret sign for him to shut up and stop being rude.
Just then the sound of a door creaked open, somewhere in the very back of the house. For a moment, Jim thought that he could hear the muffled sound of an agonised wailing cry emanating from the same direction but just shrugged it off as nothing but a gust of wind.
“So will you be needing two rooms or will you both be sharing,” she continued, “we don't discriminate here at, The Oldroyd Guest House, so...”
Just then two very attractive young ladies with long flowing red hair, entered the reception area from the door at the far end, causing both Jim and Andy to get distracted for a moment. Jim noticed Andy was staring open mouthed at the two girls, then embarrassedly realised that he too was making the same expression.
“...I take it that you'll be needing two separate rooms then lads?” continued the landlady.
“Ummm...yes...thank you.” stuttered a disorientated Jim.
“Follow me upstairs, I'll show you to your rooms,” instructed Rose, as she led them up the stairs just past the reception desk.
After a short while the two young men had settled into their overnight accommodation and now feeling more at home, they had returned to the common room area, next to the reception. Jim had begun to plan tomorrows journey.
“So tomorrow, I want to make an early start, so we can carry on towards Aunt and Uncle Cropper's house tomorrow morning.”
“Let's not be so hasty. Did you see those two chicks downstairs?”
“Hey now, we don't have time to follow your libido around Yorkshire.”
“You're no fun these days.”
“Yep better safe than sorry, and I don't want to get on the wrong side of that grouchy landlady. Those two red haired girls are probably her daughters.”
“Life sucks,” groaned Andy.
Jim ignored Andy's immature behaviour and glanced around the room, "there is a heck of a number of stuffed animals decorating this room, don't you think?"
"Kind of reminds me of my old grandfather's house", added Andy "taxidermy is probably old Rose's hobby, you know what these country folk are like. I bet'ya down in the basement, is the stuffed corpse of her ex-husband and..."
"Quit talking bullshit, dude."
Jim looked about the room in silence, the stag's head on the wall, along with a variety of stuffed birds and small rodents on the table and mantle piece, was kind of gross in his opinion.
At that moment the clash of a dinner gong emanating from the dining room opposite broke the uneasy silence.
“That'll be the lunch bell,” assumed Jim, “we'd better be making our way to the dining area.”
Rose was already waiting for them, with that slight grumpy expression on her face.
“Come'on lads, time to get some grub down you.”
“Hmm 'grub'...she's got a charming way with words,” quietly muttered Andy under his breath, while he sauntered a few steps behind Jim to their table, within the rather disturbingly empty dining room.
Rose gestured the boys to sit down.
“It's unusually quiet around here today,” remarked Jim to Rose.
“That's just how it is around here these days,” Rose replied, “ever since that flash new travel lodge opened up a couple of miles down the road, we have been rapidly losing trade. Another year like this and I may have to wind up the business.”
"Well just as soon as we get back home, we'll be spreading the word about your stellar service here, ma'am." said Andy in his uniquely subtle sarcastic manner.
Jim gave Andy a kick under the table; another secret sign for him to shut up.
"Well, I hope you lads are not too fussy eaters, as you may have expected we were not expecting too many guests today."
“I am sure whatever you have prepared, will be excellent,” replied Jim.
Just then out of the dining room door presumably leading to the kitchens, walked the two young ladies they had seen before. Both the girls were wearing elegant waitress outfits, which really complimented their shapely bodies.
"Hope neither of you two lads is vegetarian," inquired Rose, "we have got you some cottage pie."
“Excellent, I'm sure it will be great,” responded Jim, trying to sound sincerely enthusiastic.
“Thanks,” mumbled Andy, making no real effort.
The two girls approached and put the dishes on the table.
“By the way, these are my two daughters, Hannah and Gretchen,” announced Rose, “They help me run, The Oldroyd Guest House.”
Jim noticed Andy was staring at Gretchen's ample breasts and gave him a reprimanding stare.
Just before she turned back to the kitchen, Hannah looked at Jim gave him a cheeky smile and a wink of her eye.
After the girls had gone, the stern demeanour returned to Rose's face.
"Like I said those are my girls. They are both a pair of sweeties, but rather naïve. Although, I'm sure you two lads will behave yourself here during your stay?
“Yes ma'am; of course,” blurted out Jim.
“What about your friend over there,” said Rose, all of the friendly tone now disappeared from her voice.
"Errm...yes ma'am." answered Andy, his outward confidence turning to nervousness.
Rose's facial expression softened, “one last thing, my name's Rose...stop this 'ma'am' nonsense, I'm not bloody royalty you know.”
With her warning given, Rose walked away and followed her daughters back into the kitchen.
The atmosphere was starting to return back to normal as Jim looked across the table at Andy and said, "Well what are you waiting for, get eating."
“Don't like the look of this food,” replied Andy, “what did she say it was 'cottage pie', hate to think what it contains? Perhaps this is how she's disposing of the remains of her previous dead guests?”
“You frigging crazy joker Andy; just shut up and eat will you!”
The boys finished eating; both of them in silence for the rest of the meal time.
After they had finished eating, they quickly made their way out of the dining room. Walking into the hallway. Jim could not help glance through the open door of the adjacent common room, at the stuffed animals decorating the wall. The head of the stag had a sullen look on its face and Jim began to feel a kind of empathy for the creature.
It was then that a sudden loud cry pierced through the house and was abruptly silenced. The same sound that Jim had heard earlier, only this time a little louder.
“Andy, did you hear that sound?”
“Yes; it's probably just some stray cats screwing out in the back yard or something.”
Jim knew the tone of Andy's voice too well; to know that he was currently putting on his bravado act again. Andy was obviously pretending not to have heard the unearthly cry.
Neither of them would admit it, but they were feeling pretty unsettled by the noticeably uneasy atmosphere within the guest house. Returning to the sanctuary of their rooms to chill out, was a welcome relief.
To be continued...
