Chapter One

First the worst

Chapter One

Business class upgrade

Anantara Dubai

https://www.novel-writing-help.com/prose-writing.html

http://www.samizdat.qc.ca/arts/lit/PDFs/LionWitchWardrobe_CSL.pdf

When not confined to bed, Maxwell Ballantyne was of above average height; his twin sister Charlotte was not. But on this occasion, it was she who regarded him and thought how tiny he looked; how sick; how horizontal, and how thoroughly miserable.

Maxwell, or Max to his friends, had been ill – very ill. His usual rosy complexion had vanished – stolen by the mystery illness that had ravaged the tiny fishing village the twins called home. 

Even Mrs Butler in number 97 had succumbed, which the children found very strange. After all, she pruned her roses by moonlight, cloaked in a misty shroud of ocean spray, and she never caught a chill. And Farmer Jocye - bender of horseshoes, with the strength of a fierce Viking - had been the first rushed to hospital. Yes, the children thought it very strange indeed. 

And then Max, Charlotte’s only brother and best friend, had been taken sick. No one knew how or why, but it was sudden and terrifying. One minute, he was in the paddock romping with Biscuit, their Fox Terrier and the next… he wasn’t.

Charlotte had been sent to her room. She could hear the grown-ups talking - mother and the doctor - their voices heavy with worry. But what were they saying? Why did they sound so anxious? And what was wrong with Max? Later that evening Mother had sat with Charlie in the living room and explained everything. Charlie immediately felt xxxx and asked lots of questions, but mother’s answers were vague and not at all reassuring. Charlie suspected that for the first Mother did not have all the answers. No one did. Where had the virus come from, and how long would it last?

That was 10 days ago and Max's cheery face still wore the xxx mask of with a glum xxxx, leaving his cheeks tinged green. But even the worst xxxx couldn’t comlpetely deflate Max, nor could it completely snatch the cheeky grin reserved for when mischief was in the air. He was a fighter. At least that’s what mother said when he first xxxx to the illness.

Mother was a fighter too, but the illness had changed her, perhaps forever , and today remained hidden somewhere in the half shadows of Max’s room clad in hospital gown, with mask and gloves. She hadn’t said a word since the doctor arrived on his bicycle. 

Charlie (it was only Charlotte if she was in trouble, which she never was) was a serious-looking girl with a riot of auburn hair, loved to scribble. She kept two HB pencils tucked behind her left ear at all times and carried an old leather satchel slung over right shoulder. Inside a journal in which detailed the xxx of her life: the remarkable as well as much that was unremarkable. For despite her young age Charlie had already worked out that the unremarkable and very quick become remarkable with the passage of time, or with some new information. Unlike most people, Charlie, always noticed the small things  ;like most people often missed the finer details until she thought about them later and missing anything just would not do. She had once noted in her journal that Mr had xxx (unremarkable) but when Mr xx had not returned to his house two weeks later … Charlie’s notes took on a special meaning. She felt it her duty to document things that went on around her 

Charlie Ballantyne loved to scribble. She carried two HB pencils if she became excited which she often did the first pencil lead was bound to breakand a journal / watch / compass to  … unless she had reason not to. She tried everything twice because the first time is just a dress rehearsal and we don’t always get things right the first time. And for this reason … Her grandmother had told her this and she lived to 93 and Charlie thought this was on account of her adventurousness. 

Max was a tall jumble of arms and legs garnished with a cheeky grin that said lets be friends. Charlie was compact and rather more reserved. Her friendship was hard-earned, but no less dear. While the children were different in almost every way that children can be. They were the best of friends. Despite her diminutive size Charlie was confident whereas Max was shy and at the mere mention of his name he would turn scarlet (he’s probably blushing now). 

Max wore across his face like a badge of honour which the children found odd, for she was not, 

 full of pencils observed the scene. Poking out from under her brother’s bed sheets were four-and-a-half pasty toes on a pasty white foot. The current whereabouts of the missing half-toe were unknown; it had last been been seen heading north in the jaws of a common snapping turtle last summer; the summer before everything changed; the summer before father had coughed that dry, unfamiliar cough. 

Max’s other foot remained intact, digits poised as always to pinch his sister should she come within reach – a reminder, he felt, that while they may be twins, he was still 27 seconds older. Charlie (or Charlotte if she was in trouble, which was never was) knew better than to approach her brother’s toes and stayed a safe distance as she scribbled in her journal. 

  “Remarkable,” said the round-faced doctor at the foot of Max’s bed, shaking his head in disbelief and dislodging several tremulous chins from his stiff collar. “Rrrr-remarkable! Quite rrrr-remarkable. Brrrrrrrrr-eathe in,” he said rolling his Rs. He pressed his cold stethoscope to Max’s chest. “Fit as a fiddle,” he declared triumphantly. Max wriggled and shivered and breathed out. 

            "Thirty-seven degrees," said Charlie, as she pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. She took the thermometer from the doctor and reported the findings in her small, leather journal. She scribbled 'back to normal' and underlined it twice, then ‘half-toe remains very much healed - resembles Cornish pasty’. So much fuss for one missing (half) toe, she thought.  

Whatever normal was. These past few weeks and months had been anything but the usual. In fact, Charlie might go as far to say things had been far from normal, quite extraordinary in fact. Everyone the children new had come down with mystery virus and life and been xxx and nearly all they knew to right and proper and been turned entirely on its head. 

            “Breathe out,” said Doctor Pickleton, “and hold”. He counted the seconds on his gold pocket watch, which had stopped and as he wound it it and taped the glass he was unaware Max turned from sickly green to blue and then a frightening shade of purple.

“Breathe in!” Charlotte screamed in a panic, determined not to lose her son so soon after his recovery. She crept from the shadows and 

The doctor continued to count, holding one silencing finger up to Mother who hadn’t said anything, and rarely did unless it was absolutely necessary, which Charlie thought was an admirable quality in grown-ups but exceedingly scarce in her limited experience. 

She was far too busy noting down the details of her brother’s remarkable recovery. Max exhaled with a grin, 

Max exhaled with a wink for his sister and a grin for his mother; his mother emerged from the shadows of the bedrrom where she had been waiting… hoping

didn’t like cats and didn’t much care for children Mother said it was because of his allergies but Charlie suspected that’s grownups said when you didn’t like something.  

Jumble

Max exhaled with a gasp and a grin, the first in weeks full of sniffs, snuffles and coughs so violent the windows rattled with as he barked tissue after tissue into the stepper bin next to this . Charlie had almost forgotten what silence sounded like. 

Ordinarily, Max wasn’t the type to lie around in bed feeling sorry for himself, but circumstance – that being xxxxx – had forced him into a temporary state of recumbent convalescence. But Max – being the type of boy who said what he meant and meant what he said – had promised to stay in bed “‘til health restored” – so said the doctor. And this he did with horizontal determination. This conviction of mind was something he shared with his sister. But there the similarities ended, which is commonplace for a brother and sister, but unusual among twins.  

Despite her diminutive stature, Charlie was confident whereas Max was shy and at the mere mention of his name he would turn scarlet (he’s probably blushing now). Max had red hair, which Mother said explained why he ran so fast, at least that’s what father had said and father always told the truth – until he’d taken Wellington, their large to live on a farm three summers ago. Wellington did not return and neither had father, and mother had been remarkably silent on the subject.    

Dog and man conspicuously absent and mother xxxx silent 

What was this strange virus and why was everyone beaching so oddly. 

Charlie jotted down several 

             they lingered xx in the shadows of the xxx room waited nervously in the darkened corner of the room, biting her nails, which were almost down to the quick on account of her nibbling for the best part of twenty-three hours as Max battled with a fierce infection brought on by his encounter with the belligerent reptile. 

            Max had three small freckles on his top lip and one on his bottom (lip), which disappeared if he was nervous when he sucked , which he only did when he was really nervous – like now. Because Max knew when Doctor Pickleton made that noise, when he twisted the ends of his mustache into tight spirals one of two things would happen … awful medicine in his mouth or another inhjection in his bottom. 

All he had were three small freckles on his top lip, four if you counted the one on his bottom lip, which no one ever did because it disappeared if he was anxious like now. 

Max knew when Doctor Pickleton made the ‘ahem’ sound – when he twisted the ends of his mustache into tight spirals, one of two things would happen … awful medicine in his mouth or needle in his bottom – or both. “Trousers down,” announced the doctor as he tapped his syringe.

Charlie didn’t chew her lip. And she never swam in the lake after dark when everyone knew it was turtle feeding time. She had all of her fingers and toes and intended to keep them. To lose one would not do at all.   Cahrtlie had made up her mind to be a brain surgeon … 

Charlie was organised. Her desk was organised; her room was organised; her life was organised; she was organised. The key to her well-ordered life was her journal, which contained everything she needed to know about everything. Page 76: Chelydra Serpentina: the Common Snapping Turtle: can sever a finger or toe if provoked – may hiss first. Page 47 of her journal showed the xxx drawings of ajacket she had invented whci =

She jotted down the things she saw, heard, tasted, smelled and touched – anything and everything that interested and excited her – there were no lines on the page just  masses of notes and jottings and stickers and movie tickets - confetti of a curious life . It wasn’t just a diary but she stuck flowers, theatre tickets, stamps, anything she liked really and she liked almost everything and everyone … unless she had reason not to. She tried everything twice because the first time is just a dress rehearsal and we don’t always get things right the first time. 

Page 63 in her notebook had a recipe for apricot jam, a design for a three-person bicycle an emergency xxxwire from her bedroom to the bottom of the garden (fire or earthquake) and the temperature in Fahrenheit and Centigrade, and a lock of hair There was a sticker reminding her to buy a new book but Charlie didn’t need reminding because she had written it down in her book. As she did with all life’s important events.   

Charlie tried everything twice because the first time is just a dress rehearsal and we don’t always get things right the first time. And for this reason … Her grandmother had told her this and she lived to 93 and Charlie thought this was on account of her adventurousness. She loves leaning and trying new things / places adventures. She gets a kick out of the new, the undiscovered the untried. 

So, just to make sure, she took Max’s temperature again. She shook the thermometer and popped it back in Max’s mouth, who growled in protest and waved his toes menacingly. Max didn’t scare her, even when he was grumpy which he hardly ever was. There was only one thing that terrified Charlie: heights. She couldn’t even climb up a ladder without her legs shaking and her knees knocking and climb a tree … well, forget it. 

 “Capital. Capital, said the doctor and twisted the ends of his mustache into tight spirals. Max wasn’t sure what capital meant but suspected it must be something good as his mother and sister Charlie were grinning – the first smiles since Max coughed that cough almost a month ago and had been in bed ever since. Max grinned. 

Max’s smile lasted exactly six seconds. 

This was how long it took Doctor Pickleton to announce his prognosis, which was good, and his patient’s dietary requirements, which was bad – a steady diet of dry toast, thin soup and bed rest for a whole week. Then, from his brown, leather doctor’s bag he pulled a xxx bottle of medicine with writing on the side that said Imperial Quart. Max groaned and turned green … again. 

But there was worse to come. The Doctor leaned in close to mother and whispered in her ear. She turned very very white. 

“Send them away?” said Mother in a she replied not whispering. But Mother was a practical woman and like most sensible people believed in the healing power of boiling one’s ankles in whisky to cure (kist what it cures almost any ailment, was inclined to agree. And then mother began to cough and cough and cough, and the twins looked at each other and everyone in the room was quiet because they all knew what it meant.   

Mother had a large, round, jolly face. She was one of those people whose corners of the mouth went up so she always looked happy even if she wasn’t … 

The corners of her mouth went upwards and made her look happy all the time. She was almost never happy on account of Father Ballantyne’s health, which was rarely good and almost never good.  And then it got worse. So bad that they called the doctor Doctor PIckleton had immediately rung for the London doctor and when arrived The twins family doctor and mother 

The doctor’s red face, which always turned purple when he was alarmed, went a funny shade of blue. 

While mother spoke, Captain blinked twice, Itchy stared and Charlie scribbled in her notebook. 

“There,” said mother. “Everything is settled.”

“I have just the person,” said mother. 

And with that Mother pressed the phone receiver to her round non-smiling face and dialed a number. “Aunt Amelia?” She said into the receiver. “Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Yes.” “Nappies? No. They’re 11. Years. Yes both of them. Twins. Yes. What’s that you say? How long?

“Four weeks,” said the doctor. 

“Not long,” mother said, unable to make eye contact. “Just a couple of weeks.” She squinted at the doctor as if to excuse her untruthfulness. 

The edges of Mother’s mouth still weren’t turning up. They turned down. Which if you knew mother was practically impossible 

“Lovely,” she lied. 

“You’ll be back in four weeks.”

 “It’s all arranged.”

Mother explained that Great Aunt Mabel lived in a large house on an island but she didn’t have a lot of money despite what the women in the corner shop said. Charlie didn’t think the women in the corner shop were a very good measure of anything let alone wealth or lack thereof.  In eluding the pound of applejacks n

Great Aunt Mabel lived in a large house on an island, said mother grinning as if this in some way made their banishment more acceptable. And to serve cauliflower for dinner while describing their great aunt was positively philistine, Charlie thought. 

That night Max managed to hobble to the bathroom where the twins always brushed their teeth at exactly the same time. “Well,” said Max, spitting out his toothpaste as the Twins washed up before bed. “It’s only four weeks and just think of all the fun we’ll have in that big old house. It can’t get any worse.” He squeezes otthast from the bottom

Charlie is OCD neurotic 

But the children new it wasn’t because the sides of her mouth turned down, which almost never happened. Charlie drew a sad face in her journal. And then she turned the frown upside down. Charlie knew it just wouldn’t do to feel sorry for herself … she never had she wasn’t about to start now. 

 Everything seemed settled. Father was ill and the children would stay with Great Aunt Mabel who thought the children were babies and still wore nappies. Charlie wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect of spending four minutes with someone who thought 11-year-olds wore nappies, 

“Just think of all the fun you’ll have exploring. There are gardens and caves and I haven’t been there since I was a little girl but I’m sure it hasn’t changed a bit. This really is a great opportunity for you both. mother explained. And while the house was large their elderly relative didn’t have a penny to their name despite what the awful women in the corner shop said.  “Well,” said Max, spitting out his toothpaste as the Twins washed up before bed. “It’s only four weeks and just think of all the fun we’ll have in that big old house. It can’t get any worse.”

And then it did. 

, but she didn’t have a lot of money despite what the women in the corner shop said. Charlie didn’t rank Mister Blister in the corner shop very highly as he didn’t stock HB pencils or journals so she felt he couldn’t be relied on for anything. hing let alone wealth or lack thereof.  

that morning he said “see you later alligator” and then didn’t come home (is he dead or did he run off with Mrs Browne in number 33).

The creature xxx in the moonlight glowed a an angry russet 123