Strange Goings On

Chapter One: Making Sense of it all 

By Nathan Mullins

There are strange goings on in Ealing. Only, the ordinary is less so, for what is going on, behind the scenes, is a mystery.

-

David bought the paper for its usual ninety five pence. He paid the shop keeper, who took his money and pocketed it. David was leaving, when the shop keeper called him back.

“David, I say… have you read the main article?” he called after him.

David turned to face the man behind the counter. He said – “Are you having a laugh, I’ve only just bought it?!”

He wanted to escape the clutches of the fellow drawing him back into the darkness. Out in the open, the sunlight enticed him further towards the door, but Mr Briggs, the shop Keeper continued to pester him.

David strolled back towards the counter. He leant across it at Mr Briggs.

The shop keeper smiled. “Well, perhaps you’ve seen the news?”

“No,” replied David, sounding desperate still. “I’ve just left home to collect this. I’ve had no time to sit around watching the TV!”

It sounded like David was yelling at Mr Briggs. He apologised. Then he came up with something to replace his grouchiness. “Nephews are coming over later, so…” and he paused. This was to be the sentence granting him freedom. “I’ve got to get back and tidy up, before they arrive…”

Mr Briggs nodded.

“Oh, okay,” he said, sounding miserable. “It’s just,” and he paused, grabbing from behind the counter a similar paper to David’s. “I thought you’d be interested to learn that…”

-

David returned home later that day, after a long chat, a cuppa, and several biscuits in which were eaten round Brigg’s house.

Mr Briggs, Alan, in which was his first name, invited David to join him for a little chat, in which David was reluctant to accept. The two knew each other very well, but to David, Alan had always been the geek who had left school still wanting to become an astronaut.

How he ended up in a news agents and in a fairly ordinary street surprised David. They lived in Ealing, where nothing ever happened. Nothing out of the ordinary, it was as boring, and as lifeless as Cardiff. That’s what David thought, or very often said, having once lived there some time ago.

“Not as boring as you think old chum,” said Alan, sounding up beat and cheery. “But the reason you’re here is due to my…”

-

And it was when David returned home late in the evening, that whilst he stood on the doorstep, he realised he had been gone too long to collect the little one’s from school.

“Uncle, uncle…”

He heard his nephews calling his title. Then his wife unlocked the door, looking for an explanation.

“Sorry,” he said, quickly picking up Mike, the youngest and silliest of his brothers, one of three nephews to David.

His wife was not impressed.

“Come on in,” she said, closing the door after him.

David put Mike down, and joined his wife in the kitchen.

“What’s the matter?” he asked her, shutting the door after him.

His wife, Laura, looked at him strangely.

“What’s the matter? I sent you out for the paper at ten o’clock this morning! It’s now six thirty!”

“Alright,” said David, ready to apologise. “I’m sorry.”

“Where were you?” she begged him.

David shuddered backwards from her.

“At a friend’s,” he said. “The thing is, I only wished to return here soon after I bought the Times.”

“So what kept you?” Laura barked at him.

“Well, it all had something to do with this paper,” he said, fetching it from the bag hung around his neck, also slung on his arm.

“And this friend… do I know her?”

“Him!” stated David. “Thing is… he works in the paper shop, and well, I bought the paper, and then he said… ‘come to mine’, and well… he was going on, and on, and on, about aliens!”

To be continued…