Horatio and the Story of the Manor

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

The script:

Episode 16 - Back to the Manor

When Scragg eventually awoke, it was night, and a beautiful summers’ full moon shone gently down on them. It was probably a flower moon or a strawberry moon in May or June, but it was hard to tell as all they had to go by were the warmth and smell of the air and the appearance of the leaves on the trees.

Scragg didn’t get up very quickly as she still felt exhausted from all the effort of spending who knew how long in that tunnel and then dragging Winefry out with her. At the thought of Winefry, Scragg was suddenly wide awake. What had happened to Winefry? He had seemed all but lifeless as she’d dragged him out. Sitting bolt upright, Scragg started to frantically search around for Winefry. Thankfully, she didn’t have to look far as the bottle was only a little way from her and lying on its side, probably having rolled there after falling out of the tunnel. Gently, Scragg rolled the bottle onto its back to get a closer look. Annoyingly, the bottle didn’t breathe in the same way animals did, so she couldn’t check for a pulse or for his chest rising and falling. So, she looked as closely as she could in the full moonlight at the label, to see what his face was doing.

A wave of grateful thanks washed over Scragg as she saw the peaceful expression that filled the features drawn on the label. Gone were the hopelessness and the lines of deep anxiety. Instead, they had been replaced by a look of peace and strength, and a very distinct animation of the wine bottle’s drawn features that told her he was snoring!

Winefry was going to be ok. It might take a while before he woke up, but he had survived, so Scragg relaxed a little. Then her tummy growled, and she realised how hungry she was. The vermin in the tunnel had been small, and few and far between so, feeling confident that Winefry would be safe to leave for a little while, she headed out to hunt for her tea or breakfast. Whichever meal it might be, it was needed.

When Scragg returned having found much larger and tastier vermin to feast upon, Winefry had still not moved. But as she looked at him, he seemed more robust and healthier as the first rays of morning light flickered through the branches onto his label face. Scragg had been anxious about Winefry, not least because she’d never seen him eat. In fact, she had no idea if he ate at all! What had made it worse was that, while they’d been in the tunnel, Scragg had got the distinct impression that Winefry had been starving. But he didn’t look as if he was starving now. In fact, as the light played on his features, there was a faint impression of a smile.

Then, as the light started to grow in strength, Scragg suddenly found herself on high alert. Something was wrong or different about this place. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of things moving that shouldn’t have. Then, a moment later, Scragg leapt into the air and backwards in the way only cats can when startled by something unexpected. But there wasn’t anything there.

Again, something caught Scragg’s eye, and she jumped as high, if not higher than before. What was going on? Then she saw it, a shadow moving away from her – but it didn’t seem to be attached to anything. A moment later, it disappeared into the mix of shadows of trees and bushes. Again, for a third time, Scragg jumped as if her life depended on it. But this time, as she looked at what had caught her eye, she couldn’t believe what she saw. It was a shadow of a dog but without the dog. Deliberately coming up to her and acting as if she could understand it, it seemed to be looking at her, while sitting down and wagging its tail!

Now, one thing cats are known for is their curiosity. While Scragg was still on high alert, she was also very curious about this strange shadow. So, moving very slowly, she started to creep towards it. At first, it just seemed to stay where it was,...

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

The script:

Episode 15 - Winefry and Scragg – The tunnel

‘I can’t see a thing!’ Winefry exclaimed as the cave wall finally closed, leaving them to only wonder at the fate of the screaming girl, the lady of light and the border terriers. Before adding in a panic, ‘Scragg? Scragg? Are you there?’

‘Yes, I’m here. Stop worrying. I’m trying to work out the best way to go,’ Scragg replied.

‘Work out what? I can’t see a thing. It’s pitch-black!’

'Well, it's not pitch-black for me. Maybe it's my cat's eyes or …, or maybe it's the lady of light and what she said about seeing the light? Whatever it is, I can see enough to tell that we have options.’

‘Options? What do you mean options?’ Winefry was obviously rather flustered.

Scragg gave a little sigh before explaining, ‘We can go one of seven ways as far as I can tell. Now be quiet a moment, I’m trying to make out the signs above the passageways.’

Being silent in the darkness proved not to be one of Winefry’s skills as he started to ply Scragg with questions about what the signs looked like.

The seven passageways had seven different signs, which they eventually realised related to an image of a special key drawn on the wall that had closed up behind them. Scragg might never have seen the image if she hadn't become so exasperated with Winefry’s constant questioning that she’d turned around to scream into her paws. When she did see it, she screamed anyway but more to wind Winefry up than anything.

Eventually, she started to explain the image to Winefry. ‘It looks like a key of some sort, but instead of just one locky thing coming off the main shaft, it seems to have six.’

Winefry was intrigued, even though he was most definitely not in his element when sitting in total darkness. Maybe it was the decades of being left in the eaves of the Manor that had done it, but darkness was something Winefry did not like!

‘Is there anything else about the key that looks unusual?’ he asked Scragg.

‘You mean apart from that fact that it has six locky things?’ Scragg responded a little rudely.

Winefry ignored this and asked another question. ‘Well, if it has six lock-opening parts, it might be quite difficult to put into the keyhole and turn in the lock. Is there anything else you notice about it?’

This was rather a good question, and Scragg felt a little ashamed of her previous outburst. So, rather sheepishly (although Winefry wouldn't know because of the apparent total darkness he was in), Scragg walked over to the image of the key and took a closer look.

‘Well, the shafty part is quite fat and has what look like 6 flat sides to it – what’s that a polygon or something?’

‘That would be a hexagon,’ Winefry answered without any emotion. ‘Anything else?’ he added.

‘A hexagon. Right,’ Scragg repeated. ‘So, this hexagon shaft seems to have little grooves around the locky parts – on each of the sides I can see. So, if I had to guess, it looks like the six locky or unlocky parts – what are they called by the way?’

Again, without much emotion and without thinking about how he knew it, Winefry answered, 'It's called a 'bit,' and obviously this key has six bits that fit into the six grooves in the hexagonal shank. Is that what you were going to say?'

Scragg nodded but then realised Winefry couldn’t see her and gave a rather huffish ‘Yes,’ before asking, ‘How do you know so much about keys anyway?’

Winefry ignored her and instead asked, ‘The bow, what’s that like?’

Silence. It seemed Scragg was getting a little frustrated with this new ‘game’ and didn’t want to play any more!

So, with a small sigh, Winefry explained. ‘It’s usually a ring part at the other end of the shank or shaft that you hold the key by and it helps you to turn the key in the lock. I assume it’s got quite a big bow?’ At that, Winefry paused, not expecting and not getting any answer from the petulant cat. Then a moment later, Winefry...

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

The script:

Episode 14 – Interlude - Origins of Darkness

Before the madness and pain, a beautiful country house stood in the idyllic countryside of the North York Moors. There lived in that house a very fortunate family. Although, some would say that the blessing and good fortune were not of their own making. Instead, the blessing had found them and made its home there. Why it should do this, I can’t say for sure, but I suspect this happened because they neither sought after nor longed for it. Instead, they concentrated on loving each other and caring for those around them, being thankful for all they had.

So, beauty and bounty followed wherever they went, and everything they put their hands to succeeded and prospered, which led to more thankfulness and joy. And so, it seemed that from each generation, this fortune flowed to the next, as sons and daughter grew up learning to love and care, with gratitude for the blessings they received. They lived in peace, drinking in the beauty all around and happily sharing their good fortune generously with others.

Around the country house, small villages grew for workers who tended the estate. Their housing was modest but comfortable, and a step beyond what they could find elsewhere, for the Briggswaths were good people who looked after and valued their workers.

Beyond the villages, the Briggswaths built a large hall, which they used as a meeting place and church. Generations of Briggswaths and villagers were married there, worshipped and gave thanks for all they’d received.

The land of the Briggswath estate was incredibly productive. Orchards were plentiful and loaded down with fruit; animals grazed and multiplied; woodlands were well-managed for healthy supplies of timber; crops grew both in the fields and the many gardens and allotments of the villagers. This part of Yorkshire really did seem to be ‘God’s own county’!

The lord and lady of the house at this time had four children, three girls and a much younger boy. All of them were exceptionally good looking, and before the boy was very old, his three sisters married and moved away, leaving him as the last child in the rambling country house. His name was Lealholm Warn Briggswath.

Page Break

However, Leal, as he was known, was not like the rest of his family. Right from the start, he was spoilt, indulged and never disciplined for behaviour his sisters would never have got away with! So, Leal learnt how to manipulate his parents to get whatever he wanted. He perfected tantrums and grumpiness; he became a master at lying – no matter what it cost other people – as long as it got him what he wanted. To your face, he was about as charming and lovely as you could imagine, until that is, he had what he wanted or decided you were no longer of use to him. Then, you were at his mercy. This was especially true for his parents as they grew older and frailer – suspiciously frail for their age.

It was during this time that the Briggswaths stopped meeting at the hall for church on a Sunday. Leal always felt very uncomfortable by what was said in that place. And so, when ill health prevented his parents from going, Leal did nothing to help them, preferring to stay away and make excuses. Whereas his parents had loved the villagers, Leal despised them, wanting nothing to do with them - except get their labour as cheaply as possible.

Then the time came, as was the way of things at that point in history, when Leal was expected to marry. And, while his parents seemed to be increasingly blind to his outrageous and selfish behaviour, the rest of the community was not. No family for many miles around would risk their daughter marrying someone like Leal. So, his parents looked further afield for a bride – but none could be found. If a young lady visited as a possible match, Leal would cause the whole occasion to be such a disaster that her family would...

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

The script:

Episode 13 - The Beast

Of the three villages, maybe, just maybe, Grott was the best one for the mad and raging beast Horatio to have gone. This was because Grott's enchantment was that, as full moon approached, every Grott villager descended into slime – as did nearly everything in the village of Grott. So, while Horatio could easily find the Grotts, it wouldn't be so easy for him to attack them. Put simply, by this point, the Grotts had decayed to little more than lumps of mucus.

Strangely, the Grotts were actually better off than both the Rotts and the Snotts. You see, even as slimy mucus, they had somehow managed to work out how to slither around. The Snotts, on the other hand, were tiny by this stage. Being so small, it seemed unlikely the beast would be able to find them. However, if he did search them out, there wouldn't be any escape - remember, dogs have an incredible sense of smell. It was the Rott villagers who were in the greatest danger. As full moon approached, their disintegration accelerated until they were heaps of disconnected body parts with clouds of flies circling around them, easy pickings.

As Eller entered the village, her heart sank. The beast Horatio was in the middle of the village square leaping from one lump of mucus to another. Each time he sniffed at the slime, it retreated slightly, but Eller's keen eyes had seen a problem. There was a Rott in the village square! You could tell by the pile of putrid pieces and the flies. But most of all, you could tell by the shimmering badge. It was Knayton Borrowby – everyone knew his badge. It read R – CAD, which he had told everyone stood for Caring and Delightful and, being Rott, Grott and Snott, everyone believed him!

Cod had also seen Knayton and seemed to be attempting to get to him, to make some kind of defence against Horatio. But, every time Cod moved towards the rotting Knayton Borrowby, one or other of Knayton’s eyeballs would roll towards Cod and away from Horatio. As soon as one of the eyeballs looked in Cod’s direction, Cod turned to stone. Then, Horatio would move, Knayton's eye would roll back towards Horatio and Cod would quickly move towards Knayton. Poor Knayton didn't know where to look! His eyeballs pivoted from the terrible creature leaping around the village square, apparently intent on eating whatever it found, to a slightly more sinister one that was creeping towards him to do who knew what? Worst of all, because of his advanced state of decay, after a few moments, one of his eyeballs exploded with a little squelching sound, leaving only one eyeball rolling to see the terror coming his way.

Just then, as the beast Horatio turned away from examining a foul-smelling Grott, the Baron lurched into the village. He arrived just in time to see the beast prick up its ears at the scent of the quickly rotting Knayton Borrowby. Eller saw the change in the beast Horatio, the look of hunger and the intense glowing of its green eyes, as it turned to stalk this new prey. Cod stopped dead, unable to help any more as he transmogrified into solid stone just beside Knayton, clearly visible to both Horatio and the Baron.

As Eller watched, helpless to do anything, she felt the Baron run through her, trying to get to Knayton to save him. As he did, Eller felt him slow just slightly, although not enough for him to realise what was happening.

The midnight hour was very close as the Baron rushed towards the monstrous beast Horatio. Then the beast leapt to attack what remained of Knayton. A scream of terror erupted from the rotting lump of humanity, causing lungs to explode and teeth to scatter all around the pile. But instead of landing on the jumbled assortment of bits that was Knayton, Horatio came crashing down just in front of him with the Baron holding fast to the mad animal’s tail!

Then started something so surreal that, for a moment, all...

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

The script:

Episode 12 - DANGER!

As Horatio Fleming McNaughtie, the Border Terror, swept from the Manor, the Baron's voice echoing behind him into the emptiness, Eller jumped as an unearthly howl made the windows rattle. Even the shadows, growing in the ever-increasing darkness, seemed to shift uncomfortably as if moved by a passing car headlight when no such light shone.

Then the Baron had started to claw at everything in the kitchen, throwing things to the floor when he found them empty or containing something other than the special treats. But he was looking in the wrong place. The biscuits were gone, thrown down the rubbish shoot.

The seriousness of the situation became even more evident when Roseberry, not known for her speed or agility, fairly bounded into the room, a questioning look on her face. Seeing the desperation of the Baron’s actions and the empty tin, she quickly caught on. 'I know I left plenty of them in there.'

'Well, they aren’t there now!' There was panic in his eyes. 'I, I came to get the tin, the lid was off, and they weren't there. Look, it's empty.' He tossed the tin her way without looking up as he rifled through other tins in the hope they’d just been misplaced.

Another terrifying, window-rattling howl made them jump. To Eller’s surprise, the Baron looked a little relieved. Then blowing out his cheeks, he added, 'At least he hasn’t gone straight to the villages. I know that means he's around here somewhere but I'd rather that than risk all those folk down there.'

Risk the villagers? Was Horatio really that dangerous without these treats? She’d thought she was playing a simple trick to annoy the Baron and his mutt. The rising tide of panic inside her grew. This was obviously far more serious.

Another howl, further away. What had she done?

The screaming in Eller’s head that had been increasing since the moment Horatio ran out into the night, got to the point where it snapped her out of her stupor. If Roseberry and the Baron were this serious about those snacks, then the panic she felt shouldn't be ignored. She needed to make this right. But how? The biscuits were gone!

She scanned the kitchen, now littered with tins and pots and lids, none of which contained any of the special treats. Then, her eyes landed on the rubbish shoot, and she saw it. Rushing forward to check, she realised what had happened. In her haste to throw the snacks down the rubbish shoot, one had somehow stuck to the side, just inside the entrance. It had almost gone down the shoot but was still there, just out of view. They were safe… but how was she going to show the others where the biscuit was?

Again and again, she attempted to grab the last remaining snack from the rubbish shoot and, every time, she moved straight through it. As frustration rose, she started shrieking. Yelling at the Baron, at Roseberry, at herself - but no one heard her. It seemed that all she could do was listen to the howls moving around in the night and watch the others fighting down their own fear.

It was Roseberry who spotted it. 'Archie!' she said, a strange hush to her voice. 'Look!'

Eller was taken aback to hear the name of the Baron spoken out loud and turned to see what Roseberry was pointing at. The other two seemed to be looking at something directly above her head. It took a minuet to sink in, but then she understood. They could see her badge, although now they seemed confused, probably because Eller had turned around and it must have moved with her.

Once she realised they were looking at her LOST badge, she flung her head into the rubbish shoot. She didn't go in too far, just enough to get the word LOST to gently make its way to the shoot entrance, bouncing slowly into place. It was a revolting place for her to put her face but, if it helped, it was worth it.

It took a moment, but then the others saw it.

‘Archie, look! There’s a...

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

The script:

Episode 11 - Snott

As the Baron made his way out of the Manor and along one of the many pathways through the forest to the village of Snott, a bundle of soggy vacuum cleaner components in his cape, he had two companions. The one he knew about was Horatio Fleming McNaughtie – the cause of the carnage he now carried in the hope of repair. The other, unseen and unnoticed, was Eller Beck. She was following the Baron because the most momentous event she could recall had happened only recently and she wanted to have it (or something similar) happen again. It had happened when Horatio had passed through her. So, even though she loathed the pooch, she didn't really want to be away from him in case there was the slightest chance she could feel something more.

As they walked through the forest, Eller put herself in Horatio's way time and time again, but nothing happened. Well, nothing she noticed. There were a few moments when she felt that maybe the dog had seen her but, every time she thought that was the case, Horatio simply ran over to a post, a rock, a tree or just a patch of grass to have a sniff and a wee.

Reaching the divide in the main pathway that led to the three separate villages, Eller followed as the Baron took the right-hand fork, heading for Snott.

Usually, Eller tried to avoid looking at the Baron because he looked so… evil. When he tried to smile, people sometimes ran away and children ALWAYS cried. As she trailed behind the man and his dog, having given up trying to make Horatio pass through her, Eller noticed the Baron's back for the first time. Sure, it was a little hunched and never really straight but, as they paused momentarily at the turn in the pathway, she noticed the Baron take a deep breath and, if anything, his shoulders hung lower.

Did the Baron hate going to the villages too she wondered? She did what had become second nature, because no one ever heard her, and started to voice her thoughts out loud. Looking at the Baron, she asked, 'Do you find it hard to come to the villages as well?'

No reply.

Eller looked at his profile. But this time, she didn't just glance at him as she usually did, she looked at him properly, trying to hold back her natural reaction to retch. Then, moving a little ahead of him and walking backwards, she looked directly at his face. His sharp features dominated his face, along with his somewhat over-large set of teeth, all a little too pointed for comfort. His mono-brow almost seemed to have a mind of its own. But then, as she continued to stare, a look of revulsion on her own face, she caught sight of his eyes.

Without thinking, she found herself talking to him. 'Why haven't I ever looked at your eyes?' Then, carrying on, without expecting a reply, 'They're so dark, almost black and yet I can still make out your pupils. What is it I see? Is it weariness? Are you tired? It's so hard to tell with that pale skin of yours. No, I think it's something else.'

As they carried on walking, they began to enter the village. It was heading towards full moon, so the enchantment was starting to have a strong grip on the villages and their occupants. She saw the Baron's eyes dart from one tiny Snott to another. Soon they would be so small that they'd pretty much disappear.

Then, Eller realised what it was she saw in those darting, dark eyes. The Baron was sad, sad for the little Snotts, some of whom had shrunk so much that, if the village hadn’t also shrunk with them, it would have taken them a long time to return to their homes.

Several times the Baron hesitated close to a mother and her child as if trying to work out what to do. The young girl was crying, and the mother looked tired.

'It couldn't be?' Eller found herself asking. 'Is it possible you're feeling sorry for them? That you actually want to help?' The words, once out of her mouth, seemed preposterous. Who could...

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

Episode 10 - Of Gargoyles and Boilers.

The noise of hooves on slate was deafening. No one knew why the Manor had gargoyles or how many there were. None of the original plans for the Manor showed any gargoyles and, now they’d arrived, they moved around so often no one could count them. The Baron had sent Thornton out a few times in an attempt to do so but, as soon as he’d totted up one side of the Manor and moved to another, the ones he’d already counted had got distracted and gone elsewhere. So, after a few attempts, he’d given up.

The increased noise on the roof and all over the Manor since the removal of the old water boiler from the attic, however, indicated that there were far more gargoyles that anyone had imagined. Quite why moving the old boiler from the attic should have this effect, no one knew.

As the Baron lugged the heavy old piece of equipment into the boot room to give it a jolly good clean before passing it on to Roseberry (he didn't like the idea of boiling water in a space where a stuffed ferret had lived), the noise slowly died down to usual levels, with only the occasional clattering of hooves.

In a similar way to the shadows, the gargoyles hadn't ever been dangerous, so the Baron wasn't too worried about them. But, while it could be disconcerting to have lots of unattached shadows suddenly appearing and looking over your shoulder, they were silent. In contrast, the gargoyles were not!

While the Baron scrubbed at the inside of the boiler with various shadows pausing to look at what he was doing, he thought about how the gargoyles had changed over the last few months. Before, they had been relatively quiet and hadn’t seemed to move around too much and, when they had, it had tended to be reasonably silent. But, about six weeks ago, that had started to change and they’d all noticed the increased noise of hooves on the roof. In fact, Thornton had got so fed up with it that he’d gone through all the effort of moving his bedroom down a floor so he couldn’t hear them on the roof at night. That was an indication that the Baron should have taken more notice. For Thornton to voluntarily do any manual labour proved beyond a doubt that this was a serious problem.

Thornton didn’t actually say a great deal, being a man who kept his own counsel, except when he spoke to himself and his hearing aid batteries were running low. When that happened, he tended to speak rather too loudly and, the lower the batteries got, the louder he ‘whispered’ and ‘muttered’. Listening to him could be anything from amusing to embarrassing and occasionally downright distressing. But, at the slightest mention of gargoyles, he tended to walk off, turn off his hearing aids and start muttering… loudly. He muttered to himself even more these days as it seemed that, no sooner had he relocated his bedroom, than the gargoyles had started exploring the whole exterior of the Manor.

While no one actually said anything, the worry was that they might one day venture inside the Manor. In fact, once or twice, they had been spotted very close to both the back and front doors. The back door was the biggest concern as it was the main door everyone used and so got left ajar or open. Only the other week, Roseberry had seen one sitting on the wall right above the back door. Being Roseberry, she'd questioned its motives, loudly, to the Baron - for several days! The front door was less of a worry as it hardly ever got used and, as Roseberry had found out to her cost, it swelled in damp weather. It was getting to the point where it might not open at all - so an invasion into the front of the Manor was pretty low risk.

Horatio didn't have an opinion on the gargoyle issue. When he heard them on the roof, he sometimes gave a muted 'woof' but, overall, he tended to ignore them. And, when they were foolish enough to get to ground level, you could be absolutely sure that...

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

The script:

Episode 9 - Into the Attic

Roseberry had seen it coming for days and had nagged the Baron relentlessly to replace it, but this time something told her that the kettle really was on its way out. So, wisely, she stood outside the kitchen, muttering to herself about the Baron’s reluctance to spend money, as the kettle boiled, getting louder and louder.

When it happened, it was worse than expected. There was an almighty bang, then a sloshing sound as boiling water drenched the whole kitchen. This was followed by a loud boom as all the electrics in the whole of the Manor shorted out.

As the lightbulb above her head (and all the lightbulbs in the corridor) spluttered and then shattered, merrily sprinkling hot glass everywhere, a third explosion erupted as Roseberry screamed, ‘Archibald Ruswarp Briggswath! Come here right now!’

=

Eller was having a VERY good day!

=

The Baron, who was still examining the contents of the cupboard, groaned as he heard the screaming. The shadows jumped and rushed off, not wanting to miss the excitement. Slipping the third object into one of his many pockets, he turned to leave the room. When he reached the doorway, he paused to look back at the cupboard, wondering if it would still be there on his return. He got his answer straight away; it had already gone, along with all those wonderful knick-knacks he’d left on top. In a slight panic, he fumbled in his cloak to make sure the new items hadn’t vanished with the cupboard, breathing a sigh of relief as he felt them bulging through his pockets. Once reassured, he reluctantly headed off to confront the emergency!

=

It took a long time to calm Roseberry down, and even longer to clear up the mess without a working vacuum cleaner. There was another, much older and sturdier, upright vacuum cleaner in the attic, but the Baron didn’t like going to the attic and he didn’t have any good memories of that particular vacuum cleaner – it was a beast. And, having been a beast and now having been abandoned in the attic, with the gargoyles clattering overhead and who knew what else living up there, he was more than happy to clean up by hand.

Had he left the mess, he knew that tomorrow everything would have reset. However, he didn’t want to risk Horatio cutting his paws on the broken glass. Thankfully, Horatio seemed happy gnawing the vacuum cleaner parts and hadn’t come to investigate; he really was a weird dog.

=

Once all the cleaning was done and Roseberry had recovered her composure, she turned to the Baron. ‘Either you go and buy me a new kettle right now, or you’re going to have to go up into the attic and get the old boiler back down.’

The Baron felt a chill creep down his spine when Roseberry talked about the old boiler. It wasn’t just that, to get it down, he’d have to take a trip to the attic, it was also how terrible that old boiler had been. It had behaved so badly that he’d bought Roseberry the rather cheap kettle that had just exploded as a replacement.

So, now he was in a quandary. Did he spend more money (he shivered at the very thought) buying yet another kettle or did he go to the attic to retrieve the old boiler that made fantastical noises, vibrated like it was alive and, although he didn’t like to admit it, scared him with its strange behaviour?

Well, given that choice, and because they needed a cup of tea to recover from all the cleaning, not ten minutes later, as Thornton went to the cellar to collect replacement lightbulbs and reset the circuit breaker, the Baron made his way up to the attic entrance and waited for the lights to flicker back to life.

In spite of some of the rooms and corridors having moved, he found his way to the attic entrance quite quickly. It seemed that, when he didn’t want to go somewhere, the Manor knew and made it easy for him to get there!

As he waited on the landing for the lights to come back

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

The script:

Episode 8 - The Ghost

Roseberry was neither young nor slender and always frustrated at her lack of speed when it came to dealing with Horatio Fleming McNaughtie and the havoc he caused. Of course, the vacuum cleaner turning up ‘who knew where?’ each day only added to the frustration! As soon as the howl of the vacuum started, the whole Manor reverberated with the resonant growling and barking of the enraged Horatio.

Of course, Horatio didn't see it that way. As far as he was concerned, he was a hero! When the evil villain 'attacked', he was ready to defend the Manor, the people in the Manor and, of course, the one he loved more than anyone else, his master, the Baron.

As he hurtled after the evil menace, intent on vanquishing his foe, he could always be sure of his master’s encouraging shouts behind him, supporting and egging him on in his noble quest. Well, at least, that’s the way he saw it and I doubt very much that anything could ‘ve change his opinion on the subject.

In reality, the Baron just wanted to protect Horatio and calm the animal down. He chased after him as fast as he could (which wasn't very fast due to a short left leg, club foot, built-up shoe and slightly hunched back), all the while shouting ineffectively at Horatio to stop, in the vain hope that somehow this would limit the inevitable carnage.

It never did. The end was always the same, with bits of vacuum cleaner flung all around and Horatio sitting gnawing at some component or other. To be honest, the Baron was relieved that Horatio hadn't electrocuted himself. He was ugly enough for a border terrier without the additional burns and loss of fur/eyes/teeth/limbs and even life that electrocution could cause!

However, today didn't quite go as it usually did. For one thing, Roseberry Topping, the housekeeper of Manor Rott, Grott and Snott, happened to turn into the corridor Horatio and the Baron were chasing down and found them hurtling towards her.

Horatio had a healthy respect for Roseberry. So, rather than trying to dash past her and risk being grabbed by the collar, he took a sudden right turn and bolted off down another corridor (which probably hadn't been there moments before), in an attempt to get to the offending enemy another way.

As for the Baron, his relief at Horatio’s destructive charge being temporarily foiled was short-lived when he realised that, by chasing him as fast as he could, now he was confronted by the unexpected obstacle of an angry Roseberry completely blocking the corridor. This could be a problem.

It was! With his various issues, he simply wasn't able to slow down fast enough to avoid a collision and the two of them tumbled sideways into a room just in front of the vacuum cleaner as it vacuumed the carpet, apparently all on its own.

Moments later, Horatio bounded in at the far end of the room, his beady, uneven eyes seemed somehow larger than usual and, maybe it was a trick of the light, but they seemed to glow green! As they watched, his mouth appeared to get bigger and his overgrown lower jaw elongated. His yellowing teeth and fangs grew more vicious as he pounded towards … well ... surely it must have been the vacuum cleaner? Yet it felt very much like he was pounding towards them.

Always a scruffy, tufty border terrier (even after he'd been hand stripped to keep his fur under control), now his coat resembled a lion's mane. From their angle, tangled on the floor, both Roseberry and the Baron thought how big he seemed, getting bigger with each bound until he leapt, with madness in his eyes, intent on destruction.

=

Eller Beck was having a terrible day, like usual. She'd spent the morning so far trying to get a spider to notice her and to see if she could manage to tap its web. She hadn't and, after a few choice words, she'd wandered off into the Manor to wait for the morning show. At 11:05 every day the...

Music: Majestic Nature by Craig Stuart Garfinkle

Artwork by Steve English

The script:

Episode 7 - The Outsider

‘Wretched gargoyles!’

Thornton looked at the irate Baron with a blank expression because he knew there wasn’t anything they could do about them.

‘Yes sir,’ he replied while slowly turning his back on the Baron. ‘Like so many other things in this place, they are a real nuisance.’

‘I mean … I know I keep saying it,’ the Baron continued, not realising he was being progressively ignored by Thornton, ‘but a Manor the size of Manor Rott, Grott and Snott shouldn’t even have gargoyles! They’re from a bygone age! And have you seen the size of them? They’re about two or three times the size of any other gargoyle I’ve ever seen!’ Wagging his finger vaguely in the direction of the roof, he half turned to address the fast disappearing back of Thornton. ‘Maybe if we could work out where the wretched things came from, we could somehow convince them to go back?’

Thornton didn't bother replying as this was a conversation that had rehearsed many times. He did note, however, that the word of the moment continued to be 'wretched' and hid a slight smile as the Baron looked up at the various gargoyles, solid as stone, but in the strangest places all around the roof and on the walls of the Manor, while mumbling 'wretched things' over and over to himself.

As the Baron stood staring at the gargoyles (which was about the worst thing you could do with them because they never moved or showed any sign of life when someone was looking at them), a van appeared, driving through the gates of the Manor. Neither the Baron nor Thornton acknowledged it as they knew it wouldn’t be for them.

=

Roseberry was always flustered when the doorbell rang. It wasn't so much being disturbed, although it seemed she was always about as far away from the door as possible when the bell rang, as the surprise it rang at all! As she bustled her way towards the front door, she came into the grand entrance hall and made a point of ignoring the over-large moose head on the wall above the mirror. It also seemed to be ignoring her as it chewed on something unseen with its attention fixed on a couple of flies rotating in different directions under a huge chandelier.

Hurrying through the hall, Roseberry tried to remember the last time anyone had rang any of the bells to the Manor. It had been a long time.

As she reached the front door and pulled it hard a couple of times to overcome its reluctance to open (it had a habit of sticking when it rained), she heard footsteps outside walking away.

'Hold on, will you!' she shouted rather loudly through the door. 'I can't get this wretched thing open. Can you give it a shove from your side?'

As she shouted, Roseberry heard the footsteps halt and then return to the door, followed by a gentle but ineffective shove.

'You'll need to shove harder than that!' she exclaimed. The person outside gave a quick, decisive shove and Roseberry saw a blinding white light and lots of stars.

'Oh, ‘eck!' said a voice. 'I'm so sorry.' It carried on apologising, as Roseberry felt strong arms grab hold of her and pull her firmly but gently into a sitting position. 'Could 'ave sworn you said to give it a good shove. I 'ad no idea you'd be right behind it!'

A few minutes later, Roseberry was sitting by the kitchen table nursing a reasonably bold lump while a rather anxious man moved smoothly around searching for teabags, pot and mugs. (If he had known Roseberry’s attitude towards mugs, he’d have been looking for teacups.)

As the kettle boiled, it made some rather worrying noises, squealed and squeaked and eventually came to the boil while the man watched, looking somewhat concerned.

A couple of minutes later, after picking up the mug of hot, strong tea and taking a sip, Roseberry took a long, deep breath and turned to give the stranger her full attention. She ignored the moose head which seemed to have made its...