Venom'd Stang, Chapter 2 - The Prickly Thistle Inn

After a final farewell to his mother, Charlie makes his way to Alloway to meet the two sisters who own the inn he will be staying in

"Oh Charlie! I'm so proud of you!" Susan Hammers cried with pride for her son.

  Charlie had arrived home after the alarming final encounter with Helen around two hours ago. He had headed straight to his room without a word to his parents and booked the soonest flight to Scotland he could get on his laptop. After that'd he'd reserved a week's stay in the cheapest place he could find - Helen wasn't going to be paying him during his time off so he couldn't afford to splash out on accommodation. He'd found an acceptable looking inn called The Prickly Thistle, owned by two elderly sisters who sounded as desperate for customers as he was for cheap lodgings. Their webpage description of the inn read:

         

          Welcome to The Prickly Thistle, where the welcome you receive will be anything but prickly! Owned by two lovely, lovely sisters, we will ensure that your stay with us will be one to remember! Located just around the corner from the Burns Cottage we are the perfect place to stay if you want to learn a little something about Scottish history! Our Inn may be a simple one, but we make up for it with a warm and welcoming environment with nothing but the best of food and drink up for grabs and lovely cosy rooms! See you soon! xx

 

  The excessive use of exclamation marks, repetition of 'lovely' and the kissing at the end of the message suggested to Charlie that whilst they might be a bit cheesy, they were definitely eager to please which was exactly what he was looking for.­

  With all the arrangements made, he had just started to neatly pack when his mother Susan had knocked meekly at the door. 'Meek' summarised his mother's personality remarkably well - she avoided as many confrontations as humanly possible with other people, instead choosing to be docile and in agreement with practically everything everyone said.

  The only exception to this rule was Charlie's father, whom she bickered and fought with practically on a daily basis. Hearing them fight was as big a part of his childhood as going to school. She would have divorced him long ago if it wasn't for his money and Charlie.

  It was only on looking back that he realised how much his parents had shaped him into the man he was now - making Charlie more independent and aspiring. He had long ago realised that the only way he would be truly proud of himself was if he earned success out with his family's influence and opinions; so that when his mother predictably congratulated him whilst his father was distant as ever, he would know that he deserved it.

  As a result it felt incredibly hollow when she congratulated him on Helen 'giving' him his own case. Not only had he not truly earned the story but he was only taking it to prevent Mary from possessing him again. He so desperately wanted to tell Susan the truth, to confess the reality of his situation to her but he had no idea the extent of Mary's power or what she would do if he got someone she did not know of involved. No, he had to hide the truth and accept the unwarranted compliments, no matter how painful it was.

"Thanks Mum," Charlie replied, doing his best to conceal his discomfort.

"Just think, you were so worried about your progress with Ms Springer only a week ago and now she's getting you to work a case for her! Oh it is so exciting!" Susan exclaimed before yanking Charlie into a bear hug.

"Yeah...funny that. Look, um, can you let me go? I think you may have just ruptured my left lung," Charlie gasped, trying to conceal his guilt with an attempt at humour.

"Oh! Sorry sweetie," Susan apologised as she released him from her grip, "So when are you leaving? Where are you staying in Scotland? Have you booked your room yet? Have you started packing? Don't forget to pack socks, you always forgot socks when we went to stay at your father's cottage in Italy and we had to spend ages finding new ones your size when we got there and-"

"Don't worry, I have everything under control," Charlie grinned reassuringly, not even a bit perturbed by the sudden onslaught of information. It was all a part of her obsessive mother routine. If she couldn't care about her husband then she would smother her only son in affection and concern. It would be sweet if it wasn't so tragic.

"Of course you do. How could I ever doubt you. Just shout me when you need to head to the station and I'll drive you over okay?"

"Thank you, that'd be wonderful," Charlie said gratefully before she left him to get ready.

  A short while later his bags were packed and he was ready to go. He called his mother just as she requested and together they drove to the airport. For the entire ride she twittered away to herself but he only half listened - there was so much to consider before he even reached Alloway. Mary had revealed nothing of where to begin the search for the truth about Burns, therefore the only real information he had was her name and that it could be located in the general area of the village Alloway. If he was going to prevent her from influencing him again, he had to solve her mystery as soon as possible.

  With that in mind he decided the best thing to do was to wait until he arrived in Alloway and then do a simple internet search into the life of Robert Burns and also try to find out more about Mary Campbell. At the very least that would enable him to write an introduction to the article, allowing him to feel moderately productive.

  Half an hour of deliberation later and he arrived at the airport. There he fondly hugged his mother goodbye, went through the usual tedium of customs and arrived in Scotland after a dull and uneventful flight. There was a small part of him that actually wished there had been at least  a little bit of turbulence to keep his mind off the threat that was his life currently but instead he was left to obsessively evaluate and re-evaluate his situation. He then remember that the first sign of madness was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, so instead resolved to stare out of the window at the night sky until they landed.

  Once he arrived he collected his luggage and grabbed the first taxi available to take him to Alloway. The ride didn't take too long and before he knew it the taxi had pulled up outside The Prickly Thistle. If the weather hadn't been so infernal he did not doubt that it would be the definition of an idyllic Scottish inn with its old fashioned thatched roof and hanging baskets decorated with posies.

  However, God had decided to imbue the weather with all his wrath, painting the building in an altogether different shade. Shadows clung to every corner and edge as the rain threatened to shatter every surface with its intense impact. The wind grasped the chains of the baskets firmly and threw them violently to and fro, shredding the flowers from their roots. Just looking at the turmoil made Charlie uneasy.

  It was then that he noticed the two faces peering from one of the windows. They were old, craggy and gazed at him with alarming eagerness. Despite their obvious maturity if someone were to ask him to name their rough age he would be unable to do so - they just gave off an unnatural sense of seniority without any real detail.

  Trying not to be too perturbed, Charlie paid the driver and climbed out the taxi with his bags. As soon as he started walking down the cobblestone path leading to the front door, the faces vanished. Moments later the front door crashed open with a loud smack and the two old women came rushing out towards him with ridiculously large grins on their faces. They seemed completely unfazed by the storm all around them; their gaudy floral dresses whipped around by the wind.

"Oh my goodness! Hello! You must be Charlie!" the slightly taller one cried as she reached him.

"Yes, that's me," Charlie confirmed, dumbstruck by this surreal meeting in the middle of a rabid storm.

“See Mags! I told you it was him!” the woman called out to her companion.

“Right you are Betty!” conceded Mags, apparently untroubled by her defeat.

“My goodness! What a heavy bag that must be after such a long, long journey! Here let me take it for you!” Betty insisted, reaching out for the suitcase.

“No, it’s okay. Really, I can ma-” Charlie started.

“Nonsense! Come on, I’m really rather strong for a woman my age!” Betty asserted with a disturbingly loud hoot of laughter. She then grasped the handle of the suitcase and wrenched it from him with staggering strength. Charlie could not so much as attempt to seize it back before she waddled speedily back towards the inn. Before she made it to the door she stopped briefly by Mags and slammed the suitcase into her chest with such force that he could’ve sworn he heard the air being pushed up out of her lungs.

“Here! You take our guest’s bag!” Betty instructed with the same jollity in her voice, regardless of the fact she had potentially just injured her sister. There was no doubt that the pair were related " they both possessed the same dumpy posture, unnerving merriment and completely unflattering taste in clothes.

"Of course!" Mags agreed, before joining her sister in the hurried shuffle back inside. Completely flabbergasted by the eccentric pair, Charlie followed in after them, his clothes clinging to him from the rain. As he was hurrying along after them, he looked up and saw another woman standing by the window upstairs. She was young, pale and looked incredibly sad. He did not have much time to wonder who she was before the sisters bustled him inside.

  The inside of the inn was just as frenzied as the outside, though in an altogether different manner. Every surface was covered in junk to the point where only small cracks of what lay underneath could be seen. Paintings of cats, shelves of tacky looking ornaments coated in dust, hideously patterned rugs; you name it, they had it.

  As he followed Betty and Mags through to what he assumed was the reception, he was terrified to lean too far in one direction in case he knocked over some 'priceless' old figurine they'd no doubt picked up at a car boot sale twenty years ago. The sisters shimmied in behind the desk as he fretted, then slumped a massive visitors log onto the wooden surface.

  Clearing her throat, Betty spread her arms wide and said with great enthusiasm, "Hello and welcome to The Prickly Thistle inn!" before having a little chortle to herself. "It's so rare that we get visitors that I really like to give it my all when it comes to introductions. Really helps to make the guests feel welcome, don't you agree Mags?"

"Oh absolutely!" Mags giggled happily.

"Do me a favour dear and go make our guest a nice hot chocolate; he must be freezing after being out in that storm!" Betty instructed with a smile to Charlie.

"Yes, yes! Certainly!" Mags agreed, before shuffling off to where he assumed the kitchen would be.

"No, you don't have to! I don't want to cause any bother," Charlie said, feeling like they were making too much of a fuss over him.

"Don't be silly, I'm more than delighted to!" Mags assured him firmly.

"Excellent! Now then, whilst my sister is busy with that we can see to sorting out your room. Six nights wasn't it?" Betty checked, flipping the heavy book open with a loud thump before flicking through the pages.

"Yes, that's right."

"Brilliant! If you'll just sign here I can take you to your room," Betty said as she slid the book round to him and handed over a pen. Charlie scribbled down his signature on the dotted line by Betty's finger then passed her back the pen.

"Wonderful! Here are the keys to your room and if you'll follow me I'll take you to it."

"Shouldn't we wait on Mags?" Charlie pointed out.

"Oh goodness no, she'll be able to find us without any bother! Come on dearie."

"Okay then. Say, is there someone else staying here? I think I saw someone upstairs on my way in, she looked very unhappy and I want to be sure she's alright," Charlie said, genuinely worried about the pale figure.

"No, no, no, you're our only guest at the moment! It was probably just a, um, trick of the light or something. Or perhaps you're going as crazy as I am!" Betty chuckled to herself as she led him on.

  Betty then led him up a ridiculously tight staircase then along a short corridor to his room at the very end. She then plucked the keys from his hand without asking and opened the room for him.

  To say the room was small didn't cut it. 'Large cupboard' would have been a more accurate name for it. It contained nothing other than a single bed and a chest of drawers with a door next to it leading to presumably the tiniest en-suite bathroom in existence. They hadn't been lying when they said their inn was a "simple" one.

"Here we are! It's a little cosy I'll grant you, but I can guarantee the bed is the comfiest around!" Betty proclaimed with a chuckle.

"I'm sure it is," Charlie said with only the smallest hint of sarcasm.

"I'm glad you agree! Breakfast is at 9am sharp so be sure not to miss it! We also lock the front door after 11pm to keep the Scottish 'spooks' at bay, so be sure to keep your key on you when you go out."

"Scottish spooks?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Oh don't take me seriously dear boy, I am merely referring to the local myths and legends. You'll find Alloway is full of tales of creepies and crawlies that go bump in the night! Are you interested in Scottish history at all?" she with a sinister voice to emphasise her point.

"I'm afraid not," Charlie lied in a hopefully convincing way. "I'm just here to enjoy the fresh air. You tend to end up missing it after a while in the cities."

"Well you'll get plenty of that here I can assure you! Oh that sounds like Mags is making her way up," Betty said just as Mags reached the top of the stairs. She hobbled along to them with a large grin on her face, holding the steaming cup of cocoa with both hands. The moment she reached them, Betty took the mug from her and handed it to him herself.

"There you go, a nice cup of cocoa before bed. Enjoy!" Betty smiled warmly. She then ushered Mags back towards the stairway, their work done.

  For a few seconds Charlie simply stood in the doorway, watching the odd pair hobble back downstairs. They seemed harmless enough, though disturbingly overenthusiastic about their work. The room was far from his liking but it had been cheap, so he had little right to complain. And it looked as if he was going to end up with an endless supply of cocoa during his stay. Yes, he thought to himself as he sipped at the hot chocolate, this'll do nicely.