Plot was digging over her allotment and swearing inwardly, colourfully, and with imagination; first at the weeds, thistles and nettles that she was pulling; and then at herself for letting them grow in the first place. While she was yanking out some particularly stubborn couch grass roots, she heard a very strange noise. A low guttural howl, a bit like an animal in distress, drifting on the breeze, it was eerie, and it chilled the very base of Plot’s back.
Or at least she thought it had, but then she realised that it was just her jumper riding up at the back; there was a lot more Plot to cover now than there had been when her mother originally knit the jumper. She straightened up for a moment and stretched her back out, wondering why the hell she had taken this on for another season. Then she heard the noise again; a long mournful yowl, somewhere in the distance. It made Plot think about Sasha and her knicker fetish again.
Something somewhere really wasn’t very happy.
Plot felt a bit sorry for the something, but was glad that it was far away at the same time. It sounded like it could be problematic, and Plot had enough problems of her own, starting with how she was going to get this place tidied up, dug over and potatoes planted; when she wasn’t even sure that planting the potatoes was a good idea. Normally she would have had them in by now, but last year there had been a late frost that had burnt the shoots, and this year the weather was still effing about with snow and frost and stupidity. She didn’t want to make the same mistake twice, but it was basically Easter now, she would have to get them in soon.
“Hang on” she thought… “Easter! Oh buggeration! The Easter Egg Hunt!”
It was the date of the Blogger’s Bash Easter Eggstravaganza, and she was supposed to be joining in, she’d have to get a wiggle on if she was going to make it. Mr Plot helped out by digging a couple of big holes for the fruit trees to go into, at least they could finally spread out some roots, even if everything else had to wait.
With the fruit trees safely in the ground, Plot packed up and loaded the tools into Mr Plot’s car, being extra careful not to get mud on anything that wasn’t hers. They headed back to the house, where there was a posse already waiting for them.
“I’ll just get cleaned up” Plot yelled on the way past, “won’t be long!”
Cherie looked questioningly at Mr Plot, who sensibly knew better than to make eye contact, he shrugged noncommittally, before scuttling into the house. He had heard these claims from Plot before too, and knew that Plot’s idea of ‘not long’ was elastic at best.
As it turned out Plot was half right, she wasn’t long, but she wasn’t that clean either, there was still mud in her hair, and her nails didn’t bear close scrutiny, Karalee and The Nellybean were eyeballing her. They both blogged rather expertly, about beauty, and now that Plot’s garden was tidier than her eyebrows they were close to staging an intervention.
“It’s clean dirt!” Plot protested, “Come on, I’ve held things up enough as it is. It’s time to get going.”
Before anyone could argue, the air was filled with he same awful sound that Plot had heard at the allotment, except now it was a lot closer. There was something familiar about it now that she could hear it better, but Plot couldn’t just put her finger on exactly what. It was rather unsettling.
Having #picked up #maps from Suzie, the team #chose their best #route. Suzie, took Plot aside for a moment.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
Plot looked #blank.
“The hashtags, what do you think you are doing with them? ”
“Am I not #using them #right?” Plot asked?
Susie looked exasperated, “Just read the post Plot! I have it all set out, nice and simple, Useful Twitter Hashtags for Bloggers, it’s all there, just follow the instructions”.
“#Sorry” said Plot, “I mean, Sorry! I’ll read it, I promise.”
Before Plot could finish the thought ‘I really must open my post when it arrives’ both she and Suzie were knocked sideways by something that felt quite solid, but was moving so fast that it was just a blur.
“What the hell was that” Plot gasped, picking herself up; she noticed that Suzie had gone pale. “Do you know what that was?” she asked.
Suzie, gulped, “Not for sure” she replied, “Sorry, gotta go and check something out” and with that Suzie picked up her bag, and ran off in the Direction of the Blogger’s Arms.
“How weird” Plot thought, before realising that she would have to catch up with the rest of the group who were already well on their way to Susie Lindau’s to pick up their first clue. They had six blogs to visit: they would get a clue from each blogger that would spell out a word; get the word right, and they would each receive a large chocolate Easter Egg.
When Plot caught up with the gang round at Susie L’s they were deep in concerned conversation, the lights were on, but there was nobody home, there was however, a note left on the door.
Having a Wild Ride, Happy Easter
Love Susie L”
“Is she really away again?” Said Orla, “The thrill’s and spills of that girl’s nothing ordinary! Do you think she left us the clue in the note?”
“Could be ‘S’ or ‘H’ by the looks of things” said Cherie, who was handling the word of the day like a boss now, “Who’s next… Gemma?”
Orla looked at the map, “Yep, she’s just round the corner, we can be there in about two minute…. OOOOF! What the hell?” Orla had just been totally flattened by the same thing that had knocked over Suzie and Plot, except this time it was leaving a trail of the most exquisite Ukrainian decorated eggs.
Nellybean and Karalee knelt down to pick the beautiful eggs up and safely put them into a bag. One or two unfortunately got scuffed or cracked, but most amazingly survived the ordeal.
‘These are Erin’s” NellyBean remarked, “I recognise them from the beautiful photographs, I wonder what they are doing here?” as the gang all headed into Gemma’s.
Gemma had tea all laid out for them with lovely china teacups. Plot sniffed the air, “That smell takes me back” she reminisced, “that smells just like the tea my Granny used to make.”
“Funny you should say that”, said Gemma, pulling out the packet of Punjana, “This is what put the “T” in Titanic. Plot scribbled away furiously.
Once more the conversation was interrupted by the long lonely yowl that had punctuated the morning’s events. “What is that noise?” Orla asked, munching on a Chocolate Hobnob and looking out the window, “Look, there’s that thing again coming out of Midlife Smarts Blogiversary Party, it nearly knocked me for six!”
Gemma looked out the window, and gulped, “Dunno” she said, looking a bit ashen, it was gone by the time I got to the window. Where are you of to next, Fiona’s? I think she’s expecting you, go on, you’d better hurry.
This wasn’t like Gemma, but the gang got up, and headed on, as they left, they heard Gemma deadbolt the door. “There’s something very strange going on” said Karalee, “I don’t like it.
“Oh but it’s wonderful”, came a deep low voice that sounded like espresso laced with vodka.
“Hi Lise!” everyone called, Lise smiled enigmatically and flashed long black eyelashes by way of hello.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on? Karalee asked.
Lise shook her head, “Sorry gals, but I can go and have a look, see what I can find out” Lise flew off. Nellybean stood transfixed, “did she really just turn into a bat and fly off?” she asked Karalee who nodded, matter of fact. “Yeah, but we don’t really talk about it much, we just let her get on with it, seems for the best.”
“Oh, ok then” Nelly nodded, shocked, “I suppose it’s not any odder than anything else that’s going on today.”
Cherie, was getting the troops together, “Right you lot” she was saying, “The guys have a team organised too, and if they go ahead of us you know exactly how many eggs will be left for us.”
That galvanised everyone. Bryntin had a well earned reputation for chocolate rustling, and not just the wrappers, though he was a bit busy at the moment selling pictures after finally being Discovered.
They got round to Fiona’s, where there was some music playing very loud, “What is that?” Cherie shouted loudly, “It’s loud, but kinda wonderful too”
“Music from Rodrigues Island” Fiona replied, “Isn’t it wonderful?” and off she danced, into a party.
‘R’ everyone agreed, “right, where too? Gin & Lemonade round at Lorna’s?” general consensus was reached, they checked the coast was clear and made it to Lorna’s place.
When they got there, Lorna had organised a bit of a renovation, the house had been transformed into a rather fabulous, and very ornate, Oriental Gin Palace. “Wow” said Cherie, “I like what you’ve done to the place!”
“Do you” said Lorna, who had traded her usual jeans for Oriental robes and was rocking the look, “I’m not sure what happened, that’s Just How I Roll! Inspiration just kinda hit and the rest is history”
The phone rang, Lorna picked it up, “it’s Ma, sorry ladies, I gotta take this, see you later”
Cherie called out “I – for inspiration! Thats two more that we need now. Come on! I can hear either Darth Vader or Donald Trump in the background, (I can’t tell who’s who any more), which means that Phil’s not too far away, We need to get to Em’s fast.
They piled into Em’s who was kitted out in a brand new outfit. “Gosh! Don’t you look lovely” Nelly and Karalee were saying to Em, “Any special occasion, or do you always look like this?”
Em looked happy, “It’s my Easter outfit, you have to wear something new on Easter Day or the birds will poo on you, it’s tradition.”
Cherie looked at her new jeans, Nelly admired Karalee’s new shirt, Orla’s new shoes, and she was pleased with her own new jacket. Everyone turned to look at Plot who seemed to be wiping something white off her shoulder. “What?” she asked defensively, “Thing 1 and Thing 2 were throwing yoghurt around before I got out, I didn’t want to change again.” She thought she could hear a ‘harrumph’ in the background.
“So what’s the letter, ‘N’ for New maybe?” Em nodded, “You are on your last letter, you need to listen to actual conversations with my husband for the last answer. Plot sighed heavily, it was bad enough having to listen to Mr Plot’s conversations about Carp fishing, never mind having to listen to someone else’s husband drone on about his ‘interests’.
‘Just watch out on your way round, it can be a bit odd round this way at Easter” Em continued as they made their way out, but the door shut before they could ask anything more. Plot noticed a bit of plaid caught on the railings of Em’s house on the way out, it looked familiar.
Chase was unloading the car with orchids, when they arrived. “Just call me Doomfinger” she laughed I murdered Clara, this is to make amends, we are just back from the Garden Centre now.
Cherie blanched. “Um, I think we should get going now’ said Plot, “Thanks Chase, Bye!
“But you don’t have your letter yet!”
“Don’t worry, it’s fine… we have enough, come on girls lets go!” and with that they headed off towards the Blogger’s Arms. They were so deep in conversation that they didn’t notice the shape heading towards them at speed. This time it took out all of them.
‘Ugh gross” said Orla, wiping her face, “I’ve been licked by something slobbery” Everyone else was picking themselves up when they heard a flapping noise. Lise was back, and in human form too, draped up against a tree.
“So you’ve met the Werecake then?” Lise said, “I’ve been looking for you to let you know what your mystery beast is”.
“A ‘werecake’? whats one of those?” Nelly asked confused.
“Ohh! Oh my! I know what it is said Plot, it’s Fatty McCupcakes! She’s gone feral! She’s been off chocolate all lent, and now it’s got too much, I knew I recognised that sound, and the plaid on Em’s railings, that’s from her shirt.”
So why did she slobber over me?” Orla asked; miffed.
“You were the only one who had a biscuit round at Gemma’s you must have smelt of chocolate!” Cherie replied.
Lise nodded, “It started this morning, she went to Suzanne’s but they are celebrating Easter in a Moslem country this year, so no Easter Eggs. She left there and went round to Erin’s, She had plenty of Ukrainian Easter Eggs but none of them chocolate.”
Plot continued “So then she went round to Midlife Smart’s blogiversary party, presumably looking for cake, except it wasn’t that kinda party. She must be getting desperate now.”
Lise nodded, “Well, I have to be flying off, Places to be and all that, they are expecting me at the Stanley Hotel” and with that she transformed and flew off again. Nelly shuddered.
“We need to work out what the word is” said Cherie, “What have we got?”
“S T R I N and possibly G for Garden centre” said Plot, ” String, bit odd if you ask me!”
“It’s not ‘T’ for Titanic Tea, Plot, it’s ‘P” for Punjana! Numpty!” The word we want is SPRING!”
“Ahh! Plot nodded, ‘That would make more sense. Now we just need to take this back, pick up our eggs, and sort Mc Cupcakes out.” It all went quiet “oh come on, we can’t leave her like that!”
The gang headed back into town, back to where they had picked up the map from Suzie, “The word is SPRING! Can we get out eggs now?” they asked.
Suzie nodded, and motioned for them to come with her to where the eggs were stored. There in the middle of the the pile of eggs, surrounded by empty wrappers, and smeared in chocolate, was a now recumbent McCupcakes, snoring happily in a chocolate dream.
They each took an egg from the side of the pile and McCupcakes snuffled a bit, rearranged her position, and slept on.
“She actually reminds me of Smaug in The Hobbit” Cherie murmured to Plot who was thinking the same thing but had added her own hairy hobbit feet to the vision,
“Yeah, let’s just let sleeping Dragons lie this time shall we? Plot whispered. “Retreat to the pub?” Cherie nodded and off they went, to the sound of gentle, chocolaty snores fading in the background.