Elmore castle had the biggest kitchens in all of Wisteria and on the evening of the Petheros feast it was filled to the brim with cooks, bakers and helping hands. Bizeli, the head cook, stood proudly over the ever growing table of food, methodically checking each of the five open fires around the room. He stopped as his small eyes reached the largest hearth.

“Who is turning the suckling pig?” He looked frantically around the great stone room. “Azar! You’re in charge of the spit roast! We’re going to have a half raw, half burnt porker if you don’t get back to the fire!” Bizeli’s northern accent was thick with stress.

Azar was standing by the baking oven. He had been recruiting kitchen hands to taste his honey glaze. Bizeli waddled over to the young man’s side tutting and sighing.

“The glaze is fine! The glaze is fine! The porker needs turning!” The large man bounced on his heels impatiently.

Azar swept his curly black hair out of his eyes and clapped the portly chef on the back, making him wobble. “Don’t stress, the pig won’t burn. There is nothing wrong with some crispy crackling but I do think this glaze needs more salt .”

“No no! The pig!”

Azar’s green eyes sparkled playfully as he bowed his head and dutifully returned to the spit. He rolled up his sleeves and heaved the iron handle towards himself, turning the large animal onto its back. At the same time a fresh breeze stirred in the kitchen, it cooled the sweat on Azar’s neck and wafted the smell of cooking pork out into the open. He inhaled the pig’s spiced yet sweet scent and congratulated himself - the guests were in for a treat tonight. The castle kitchens were deep beneath the ground without any windows or natural light and so it was wandwork that provided some relieving movement in the air. Azar looked up and saw a squat, stern woman near the kitchen doors. She was holding her glass wand high above her head and from its tip it emitted the assuaging, forest fresh breeze. Azar watched as the woman manourvered the glass, refracting the fire light precisely and purposefully in order to continue the steady flow of air. She was doing a beautiful job, Azar thought, recollecting a breeze enchantment last week that had smelt like the sewers. He looked back towards his pig and decided to dollop another spoonful of honey glaze on the beast’s belly. He was just preparing to turn the beast onto its front again when a trumpet sounded.

“Duke Simeon Perrot of Elmore” announced the page boy. The Duke entered, smiling. The kitchen became unnervingly still, excluding the girls who had been icing the cakes, who were now uncontrollably giggling and blushing.

“Don’t let me stop you all!” The duke waved his hands apologetically, “You must all be so busy.” The hustle and bustle resumed, the giggling continued as well.

Bizeli stepped forward,

“Your Grace, you’ll find him by the suckling pig.”

Simeon smiled his thanks, and made his way across to Azar who was taking off his apron,

“Is it that time already Sim?” Azar asked.

“I’m afraid so Your Majesty.” The Duke bowed, smirking.

“When do the guests arrive?”

“Within the hour Your Majesty. I have a matter to brief you on before hand. That is,” Simeon bowed again, “if you have the time, King Azar.”

“Of course, of course, I’ll meet you in the tower study. I just need to update Bizeli on the pork.”

Simeon was circling the tower as he waited, rearranging the room as he saw fit. Azar did not care as much for appearances as Simeon did. He began by picking up the floor ridden books and placing them on the shelves. He then dusted the quartz board and put the pieces back in their right places. After growing tired of standing, he sat down behind Azar’s desk and rearranged the King’s quills in order of size. Then finally, feeling the stress begin to rise in his chest, he pulled out his glass wand. Simeon’s wand was different to the wandworker in the kitchen. This instrument was intricate, with several different facets cut within its core. He shined it on his robes and looked out the large windows that consisted of a single pane of glass. Simeon shuffled the chair a few feet to the left so that he sat within the streams of starlight. The stars were famously low in Elmore. Within most of Wisteria they were usually found suspended near the lower branches of trees. However, in Elmore, it was not uncommon to be able to touch the small balls of light, as they often appeared just centimetres above head height. Convienetly, however, there was an unusual high flyer levitating outside of the tower’s window, at eye level with Simeon sitting down. He raised his wand and began performing a well learnt pattern of movements, funnelling the starlight through the glass and onto the tapestries and bookshelves surrounding him. A calm descended over the study. The room breathed a sigh of relief and even the dust settled. Simeon’s large, muscular body relaxed, his hard jaw dropped, his stress melted away. He had just begun to shut his eyes when the door was opened and Azar was announced. The King stopped still in the door way.

“You know I don’t like your serenity enchantments.” said Azar, unusually stern.

“Your Majesty” Simeon began,

“Don’t try and deny it. This room is like a millpond, even the clock’s stopped ticking.” Azar went to examine the clock, taking a small gold screwdriver out of his pocket and fiddling with the cogs.

“I beg your pardon Azar.” Simeon bowed his head. The king looked up from the clockwork and noticed his tidy study. His frown lines gave way to a small smile,

“You’ve tidied Sim.” he moved over to his desk, “and the quills have returned to height order! Thank you!” Azar laughed, Simeon smiled sheepishly.

“Now what’s wrong? Why are you using your serenity charms again? You told me you were cutting back.”

“Well Your Majesty,” The Duke offered Azar his chair, “There’s been some whisperings within the privy council.” he paused, “whisperings about your new wife.”

Azar’s breath caught in his throat.

“No. Don’t do this to me Simeon. Tonight is the night. Its been thirty days, the sun is about to reach its fourth power. The marriage will be final after this feast.”

“I’m well aware of that, but I’ve had word that several councillors have found and read an incriminating document written by Queen Brenna”

“What is it about? It can’t be that bad.”

“It apparently refers to the creatures in the forest.” Simeon lowered his voice to a whisper, “She denies their crimes Azar. Maintains they’re all misunderstood. She actually suggests we open our gates.”

Azar’s mouth opened slightly.

“No.” The King said again, “She wrote we should open our gates? The whole kingdom will be in uproar. No one liked that she was from Castlemore in the first place.”

“You’re right Your Majesty. Any excuse to collapse this marriage deal will be taken and if Brenna wants to welcome killers within our walls ...”

“She’ll be lucky not to get arrested.” finished Azar.

“I know you like Brenna, but if this is true, she presents a very real threat to the safety of our towns.”

“This is ridiculous. I’ve spoken to her about such matters before. She’s open minded, but she’s not treasonous.” Azar rubbed his brow.

“You don’t know what her intentions are but you don’t want a wife who welcomes murderers into our town. Our people have lost mothers, fathers, sons and daughters to the forest. We are constantly a town in mourning because of the Nerida. If Brenna has written this, I, myself, will not support her as Queen.”

Azar felt his own stress combat the strength of the serenity charm, it was an uneasy sensation that made him feel dizzy. Ever since he had been crowned king on his twenty first birthday he had feared the day of his royal marriage. But Brenna was his friend, unpopular no doubt, but she was clever and kind nonetheless.

“If it is true, what can we do?” the King asked.

“I will try and persuade the councillors to denounce her privately, before the talks and promises begin between you and Brenna’s father.”

“t hope to light it’s rumours. It must be rumours.” Azar muttered unconvinced, “Anything else I need to be briefed on?”

“Not much. King Cornelius will want to discuss his new diamond mine and the beginning of diamond trade with you. If it does run smoothly, it is then expected that he will present you with the world’s first partly diamond wand. Then the procession will go ahead and the thirty days of ceremonies and proceedings can end and you will be performing some of the finest wandwork ever known and I’ll be most jealous.”

The king looked up at his best friend and nodded. His elation and pride at his honey glazed roasted pig had vanished, and instead nerves began to compile in the pit of his stomach.

The gardens of Elmore castle were an interesting mixture of the immaculately manicured and the wild and untamed. The Petheros feast was traditionally held within the cultivated part, amongst the arranged flower beds, water fountains and shaped hedges, one of which had been carved to resemble a giant flamingo. By the time Azar was briefed and dressed, the festivities had already started. He instructed the page not to introduce him and joined his guests, giving the flamingo a sad look. He did not like this part of the garden, it oozed pretentiousness and bought out the pompous in people. Azar spotted his Queen amongst the crowd. He maneuvered his way to her side as surreptitiously as he could, sneaking in and out amongst his guests. He touched Brenna’s elbow and bowed to her.

“You are late Azar,” She winked, crinkling her smile lines, betraying her playful kindness. “Late to your very own party!” Tutting sarcastically she passed him a brass goblet filled with an emerald wine. She herself was sipping out of a champagne flute, the stem of which reached her knees. “You are lucky the meal hasn’t started yet, Duke Jacob of Lantern wants to talk to you, he has some absolutely wild opinions about the control of pygmies in the western forest.”

Azar nodded, grinning, “Thank you for the warning.” People were beginning to notice the King’s arrival, delegates and dukes had begun encircling him. “Ah, they’ve spotted me. Please excuse me your majesty.” Azar placed his lips on his Queen’s hand. Brenna pushed him playfully away. As Azar greeted, kissed and complimented his guests, he kept one eye on his new wife. She was so enchanting. She hardly reached his chest in height, her skin was translucent and her hair was star gold. She could be Simeon's twin, thought Azar. He shuddered, shaking off the odd thought and trying to focus on the blabbering Duchess Amaya,

“I just love your flamingo Your Majesty. Its so tall and so proud. I personally feel that it represents who you are - as our King.” She bowed dramatically.

“Oh Duchess Amaya,” said Azar sighing, “I hate the flamingo.” and at that he moved swiftly and sadly onto his next flatterer.

Azar found Duke Jacob having his picture painted at the base of a giraffe shaped hedge. It was a popular activity of the evening and it consisted of a bewitched paintbrush creating exquisite portraits of whichever guest stood nearest.

“Jacob.” Azar nodded his head in greeting.

“Oh! Your Majesty!” The old, wrinkled Duke made to make a exaggerated bow but stood up straight again when the paint brush hit him angrily on the head. Azar smirked.

“Do not move on my account Jacob. It is only that my Queen has told me you wished to discuss the pygmies.” The King had a peak at the easel, the image was uncanny.

“Your Majesty, I must admit I was not been entirely truthful to Princess Brenna.”

“Queen Brenna - Duke Jacob,”

“Not officially, Your Majesty. I know Petheros has become more tradition than law over the powers but it is still needed to complete the marriage.”

Azar’s jaw tightened, bracing himself.

“You see I’ve recently been shown a document.”

The paint brush stopped moving, raising its bristles, as one would arch a curious eye brow.

“Duke Jacob, I must insist that you discuss this matter privately with me, Minister Simeon and Queen Brenna after this evenings events.”

“Oh no Your Majesty. You see, several members of your own privy council and I mean to air the issue tonight, giving its severity.”

Azar searched his mind frantically for a calm and collected response.

“This marriage ensures a very good relationship with Castlemore, Jacob. If undone, King Cornelius will be insulted. We will lose the diamond mines.”

“As much as I would like to see these so called ‘diamonds’, the safety of Elmore is my priority. I thought it respectful to pre-warn you, before the speeches begin but I’m sorry we don’t have a choice.” The Duke’s voice was high pitched and tense.

Azar glared at him and turned away, cloak billowing,

“Simeon!” The King’s voice was low but loud, it rang across the garden sonorously. Conversations died mid sentence as everyone turned to look at Azar. His green eyes flared, anger was contorting his face, revealing a formidable and dangerous man. Lady Amaya’s voice could be heard amongst the silence, “Looks just like his uncle!”. There were murmured agreements.

Simeon had been sitting in a lounge, near a bed of blue roses. At Azar’s call, the woman sitting on his knee had jumped and was now standing aloof and embarrassed. Simeon lightly stroked her arm and excused himself, walking briskly but calmly to Azar’s side.

“Your Majesty?” said the Minster.

“You said Simeon, you said you’d persuade them to do this later.” The King paused, looking around, suddenly confused. “Were you performing a desiring charm on Lady Bethany?”

Simeon pursed his lips, stepping back several steps, “I’m sorry Your Majesty. It should have warn off when I moved away from her.”

“Oh, for the star’s sake Simeon. Control yourself, and fix this. Fix this now.”

“If it’s true Azar. If they have the paper. I can not fix anything.”

Azar and Brenna sat at the head of the table. Brenna looked suspiciously up at her husband as he stared straight forwards, looking at nothing, mouth clammed shut.

“Something’s gone wrong?”

Azar’s eyes did not move but he found Brenna’s hand and held it tight.

“They’ve found some of my writings?”

Azar gave a curt nod. Brenna seemed neither shocked nor ashamed.

She sighed and nodded, “Okay.”

The cavalcade of speeches began. Brenna’s father started with a long and loving oration, welcoming his new son in law to the Castelmore family. Azar had discretely performed a muffling spell under the table and so consequently and mercifully he had hardly heard an adoring word. Next came the food, in which Elmore’s professor of wandwork, a tiny bearded man with kind eyes, had the vegetables, gravy, chickens and beef fly onto the table, finishing with the roasted pork, which landed in front of Azar. But not even his fantastic culinary creation could call fourth a smile. Finally, when people began to take their second helpings, the members of council arose from their chairs, calling for silence.

Brenna was denounced. Parts of her paper were read out. She was condemned.

“This woman wants to forgive the unforgivable. Open our gates to the murderers who live in the forests. Welcome these creatures into our homes. Creatures who have killed our own children. Will we have a Castelmore Queen who loves killers? ” An uproar replied.

“Do you deny you wrote these papers Princess Brenna?”

“I do not deny it.” Brenna was on her feet. So was her father. So were most of the guests. The situation began to deteriorate. The guests were irate and inebriated and none were more so than King Cornelius.

“I will not have my daughter be falsely accused by cowardly Elmorians, who trap themselves in towns and won’t go outside! I will not have my daughter stuck here, if she will be attacked and hated by the King’s own privy council!”

Azar let go of Brenna’s hand, moving it to clasp The King of Castelmore’s broad shoulder.

“Cornelius, please. Would you come with me to my study.”

“I will not. I will not! I’ve never been so insulted in all my life!” The guests became louder and the King of Castlemore’s yelling became hysterical.

Enough was enough. Azar got out his wand and moved to stand by a star. He held the glass object up to the light, and it glowed a brilliant yellow. A peace and calm, stronger and more overpowering than Simeon’s serenity enchantment, settled over the garden. Owls stopped calling, the stars dimmed, everyone and everything became involuntarily quiet.

Simeon had been watching from afar. At Azar’s enchantment, he seized his moment, stepping forwards and taking control.

“The ceremonies will not be completed tonight. I would ask everyone to return to their quarters in the castle for the evening.”

The guests had been calmly led back indoors. Cornelius had ordered a carriage and demanded they leave at once. Brenna had been escorted away without a fight. The young woman had remained collected and unembarrassed, never apologizing or getting upset. She smiled at Azar as she stepped into the horse drawn cart. Azar simply looked at her, overwhelmed.

It was nearly morning and Azar and Simeon were the only ones left in the garden, omitting the several guards standing dutifully at their stations. Simeon seemed peaceful. He was standing by a chocolate fountain dipping in a plate of left over strawberries. Azar was slumped against an elm.

“It was for the best.” Simeon said, swooping his blond hair out of his eyes.

Azar looked at him, eye brows raised. He’d rarely felt so miserable.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. Every single King before you went through three or four wives before they found ‘the one’. Your uncle went through six. We will have another calling ceremony and it will be more magnificent than the first. I will summon the twelve most exquisite girls from each of the twelve islands of the world and we will choose better this time. She will be doting and loving...”

“Brenna was doting and loving, Simeon.”

“And she will be free from dark thoughts.”

“Brenna’s thoughts weren’t dark.”

“And she will encourage you to be the King your Uncle would have wanted you to be.”

“My Uncle never wanted me to be King, Simeon.”

As was the morning routine, John Salisbury was yelling at his son.

“For god’s sake James, is it really so hard to eat breakfast without reading a book?” He snatched the heavy hardback of Renaissance Cosmology out of James’s hands and threw it on the floor. “It’s rude to read at the table.” His daughter ascended the staircase, “Esther, bring me a cup of tea and you make James gets to school on time. I’ll be in the lounge.” He ran his fingers through his newly greyed hair.

“Okay Pa.” said Esther returning James’s book to the table and putting a rusty kettle onto boil. “Actually Dad,” Esther called after her father, “Before you go,” She took a deep breath, “do you remember how Mum used to run her homemade jewellery stall at the christmas fair? ” Her father turned around reluctantly.

“No.”

“Well... she did,” Esther stared at her slippers, “and I think I might do the stall this year …” There was a strained pause.

“Well good luck getting your mother to make jewellery from beyond the grave Esther.” John Salisbury laughed, turning his back and walking away. Esther sighed and looked blankly at her flakey reflection in the kettle. Despite having never travelled anywhere outside of England, Esther had a tanned complexion and long, coffee coloured hair. Her green eyes were like her mother’s and they caught the attention of anyone who spared her a glance. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and pulled her dressing gown tightly around her body, trying to recompose herself.

“Would you like some more porridge James?”

“Thanks Esther,” he mumbled, not looking up from his book. Esther put two bowls of porridge on the table and sat down,. She pulled her knees up to her chest to keep herself warm., piling a spoonful of oats into her mouth. “ Have you ever heard of a man named Galileo? Dad apparently didn’t, but you must know him!” James looked expectantly at his sister.

Esther frowned, “Is he the one that first believed the sun was the centre of the solar system?” She looked questioningly at her brother and James beamed in reply.

“That’s the one Esther! He was an Renaissance scientist. I knew you’d know who he was.” He dipped his nose back into his book. Oblivious to the world once again.

Esther gathered her books and keys as the time drew nearer for them to head to school. She was hovering near the door ready to leave when James came downstairs holding a shoebox.

“What’s in this Est?”

Esther looked up. Her stomach twisted.

“It’s just the jewellery I’ve tried making.” She murmured.

James opened the deteriorating adidas box and picked up a delicate string of beads. He smiled,

“These are really nice Est, just as good as mum’s.”

“Esther! You two are going to be late. Get going!” James hastily put the lid on the box and put it on the stairs. The two of them donned their jackets and bustled out into the cold. Esther turned to shut the door behind her but paused with it half shut, watching their father tip the contents of her shoe box in the bin.

Esther jumped into the car, rattling the barely functional engine into life and turning on the heating. She shivered and checked her watch as James used his student card to crust the ice off the windscreen. After he had created a small window of sight for Esther to drive through, he bundled himself in the passenger seat and began fiddling with the radio tuner. After several minutes of white noise and snippets of speech, James gave up and the two trundled through the countryside in silence, rolling to a stop at Olivia’s house. A lonely brick building in a neighbouring village. James had always been rather taken by Esther’s friend Olivia and he fidgeted awkwardly as she slid into the backseat. Her long blonde hair reached her lower back and her blue eyes glittered distractingly.

“Morning Salisburys! How’re we this morning?”

She had a high pitched, perky voice.

“I’m good Liv, I’ve got your essay in my bag next to you. I looked over it and I’ve changed it a bit. You just hadn’t really answered the question.” Esther said kindly, looking at Olivia in her rearview mirror.

“Oh thanks Esther! Honestly what am I like?” James glanced around and braved a smile. Olivia pulled a face of mock shock, “Gosh James, you are going to be such a looker when you’re older!” This compliment regularly frequented the morning trip to school. James did not know whether it was meant to be flattering or not, but he enjoyed it when she spoke to him none the less. “And those arms James, so big for someone your age! Must be from lugging around all those heavy books you read!”

“I’m only a year younger than you Liv,” James said quietly. Olivia shrugged.

Esther liked to park in the town square, mid way between James’s school and her own. She turned off the ignition and all three of them looked outside at the sheets of sleet that splattered the concrete pavement.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Esther opened the car door and ventured out into the wet. “I’ll meet you just outside The Talbot James, in the undercover bit?”

“Sure Est. See you both later, bye Liv.” He waved goodbye and headed down a small alley way out of the market place. Olivia and Esther walked briskly down another back street and soon arrived at the school that lay at the bottom. Fallowfield District School.

Esther had been attending Fallowfields since she was five years old and had been Olivia’s right hand woman since year two. Despite playing the perpetual sidekick to Liv’s leading lady, Esther liked school. The whole red brick extravaganza, including the staff, gave the impression that the school was continuously dozing in and out sleep, only waking to teach the students a bit of pottery or craft. It suited Esther, as it never put her out of her way, or challenged her too greatly. She was confident that she could pass her A levels and so she trundled along, basking in the privacy of Olivia’s shadow.

“Gosh I can’t wait until we break up. Only two more days.” Olivia said as they walked into their english lesson. The classroom had a few lonely christmas baubles drooping from the ceiling, reminding everyone of the impending holiday. As was normal, Esther and Liv sat one row in front and to the right of Adam Westley. Liv had chosen that chair, so that when she giggled and flicked her hair, she was in prime, eye contact zone. Liv had chosen Esther’s chair so that she could access the answers without Adam knowing, and also so that Esther could laugh loudly at her jokes. Mrs Lowry cleared her throat.

“Morning upper sixth. Now I know it is the end of term and your mind is full of tinsel but I thought we would do an introductory exercise on next term’s text; Robinson Crusoe.”

The class grumbled.

“No, no, this is going to be fun. Now as I am sure you all know that Robinson Crusoe, after enduring many storms at sea, is wrecked upon a deserted island where he becomes king of his own land. King of the wilderness and of the animals and even king over the only other person with him, Friday.Your task today is to write down what you would do if you were, like him, made king or queen of a deserted island.”

The class relaxed. The school settled back into its snoozing state, as everyone in classroom 4B realised that there was no risk of learning anything today.

“Esther I want you to be on my island. How about you be my Friday, but we’ll be friends and you wont be my slave.” Olivia looked earnestly at Esther, who gave a small smile and looked down at her own piece of paper. What would she do if she were queen? She had never been captain of a sports team, or a lead role in a play and the thought of being a prefect or the head girl had never once crossed her mind. She tried to envisage herself walking through her very own rain forest. She tried to imagine the feeling of being queen over the wilderness. Mrs Lowry piped up once again.

“Olivia, lets get the ball rolling, what would you do?”

“Well Miss,” Liv had her head tilted to one side as she spoke, half addressing the teacher and half addressing Adam Westley, “after I had found myself some food and water, I would want to cultivate the forests and find some animals I could domesticate. So after a month or a bit more, with help from Esther who’s my friday, I would have like a really big, beautiful garden, and some animal friends.” There was an awkward silence as the teacher, Esther and most of the class stared blankly at Olivia. Adam winked at her.

The teacher recomposed herself.

“So what Olivia has done here class, is she has replicated a sense of home on her island and by doing so she is hoping to prevent feelings of isolation. Good Olivia. Now to aid you in this exercise let me show you some images of what Crusoe’s island could possibly have looked like. It’s important to understand the environment he was dealing with.” She turned on the projector and infuriatingly slowly found the images she was looking for. They were wild, green, foreign and exciting.

“What do you think Esther Salisbury? What would you do if this was your new home?” Esther looked at the images,

“I’m not too sure Miss, but don’t think I could force somewhere so wild and exotic to be housebroken and mild. To me that looks untameable, somewhere you have to watch from afar and admire.”

James shuffled into his last lesson of the day, avoiding eye contact with everyone already seated. It had been an embarrassing lunch time and the little pride he possessed was wounded. It had consisted of some of the more popular boys throwing around his bag and books. This regular occurrence at All-hallows Grammar School was normally not as humiliating but they had found his Mother’s copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and thrown it into a large, brown puddle. James had not been able to maintain his usual decorum. Names had been called and he had taken a hard hit to the face. James had spent the rest of the break in the bathroom, holding the book under the hand drier. It still wasn’t completely dry. He got it out of his bag and put it on his desk, thumbing through the pages, looking miserably at the run ink.

“Afternoon Boys.” A small, older gentleman spoke from behind the teacher’s desk.

“Let’s get started on Shakespeare’s Midsummers. Luke, pass this sheet around.” Luke looked like a monkey in a uniform. He took the pile of papers and began distributing them carelessly. When he reached James’ desk, he stopped. Luke’s fist was battered but it had come off better than James’s face.

“Rough lunch time Salisbury? Here, how about we do a swap.” He checked the teacher wasn’t looking and then prised open James’ book, tearing out several soggy pages. “I’ll take these...” He stuffed them into his pocket “and you can take this,” he handed James the worksheet. He chuckled stupidly, proud of his exchange. James’ shoulders slumped and he felt a lump gather in his throat.

The lesson passed slowly after that. James usually enjoyed this play, with its frivolity and magic. The Athenian fairy forest was somewhere that his mind would often wander when he was feeling down or wistful. But James could not concentrate on Shakespeare today. Every time he looked at his mother’s book, a quiver of anger shot through his chest that made him lose his concentration. He gave up, getting out his other book and perusing that one instead. After Mr Bertrum had assigned homework, the class filed out of the classroom. James, however, remained sitting in his chair, unaware of his surroundings, reading.

“Master Salisbury, I’m afraid the bell has rung.” A crinkled hand gently closed his book.

“Hmm, Renaissance Cosmology? Well that’s vaguely relevant.”

James looked up into the grey eyes and wild white eyebrows of Mr Bertrum.

“Sorry Sir. Not myself today.”

His teacher raised his eyebrows knowingly, encouraging his student to explain. James shrugged and looked at his feet.

“Master Salisbury,” Mr Bertrum creaked as he sat down in the seat next to James. “School is not for you.”

Well that was rude, thought James.

“These children,” Bertrum waved his hand at the door, “they do not understand you or appreciate you.” Mr Bertram leant forward. His large nose was only centimetres away from James’. “But one day you will do wondrous things, things that your school friends can’t even imagine.”

James fidgeted awkwardly and nodded his thanks. The elderly man placed the stolen torn crumpled pages of Act 1 scene 3 onto the table. James took them, smoothed them out on the table and put them in his bag. He mumbled another thank you and made his way out into the corridor.

It still had not stopped sleeting by the time James met Esther under in the entrance way of the The Talbot.

“Where’ve you been James? I was about to go and sit by the pub fire, it’s getting so cold! Olivia gave up and got a lift with someone else!” Esther grimaced.

“I’m sorry, it’s just been a rubbish day. Lets go home.” James replied.

Esther looked more closely at her brother and she saw the first signs of a purple bruise on his cheek bone. She immediately regretted her short temper and gave him a sideways hug to cheer his spirits,

“I’m sorry. Let’s finish the day a little better and have a christmas feast tonight to celebrate the end of school. We’ll put on the fire and I’ll make some hot chocolate and we can finish decorating the tree.”

Esther’s words made James smile his brilliant smile and exhale. He felt the pressures of the day slip off his shoulders and his heart felt warmer. They got into the car, cranked the heating to full blast and both of them relaxed.

Soon after their mother’s death, James, Esther and their father had moved into a dilapidated, tired, semidetached house, one of many on a long street. They hadn’t lived in it long enough to feel at home but Esther had made an effort to decorate it with the christmas spirit. She had intertwined lights within the rails of the staircase, the wooden nativity scene had been placed on the electric fire’s mantle and their already shedding christmas tree was standing in their small living room. After they had dumped their bags and changed into something warmer, James flicked the gas on and watched the artificial blue flames whimper into life. Esther busied herself in the kitchen concocting two hot chocolates in the microwave. Both of them listened to carols and reminisced over past christmases as they carefully placed the decorations on the tree. The sun had set by the time they stood back to admire their work.

“This looks really beautiful James. Well done us.” Red, white and gold crystal orbs floated magically between the branches. The fairy lights twinkled, making the tinsel sparkle, creating something unusually beautiful in the dull, damp room.

“Is Dad coming home for dinner?” said James, turning to his sister.

“I’m not sure, I’ll leave some out for him. Shall we eat in here by the tree?”

James’s nodded, anywhere was better than the kitchen, it had a funny smell that stuck to your clothes and the harsh LED lights reminded him of school.

Rain began to beat against the windows as Esther bought out two plates of shepherd’s pie and the remaining slices of a victorian sponge she had made the week before. It was now rather dry and stale.

“Gosh Esther, how did you whip that up so quickly?” James already had his hands on a pre dinner piece of cake.

“I’m afraid all the credit goes to the lovely ladies of St Peter’s Church tonight, and if you’re still hungry afterwards, we have four frozen lasagnes to tuck into.”

“Four? Blimey, I wonder when the sympathy food will ease off. Not that I mind much,” James wiped his crumb covered mouth with the back of his hand.

The Salisbury siblings went to bed full and comparatively happier than normal, comforted and cheered by each others company. They fell asleep quickly and dreamt deeply, not realising their father had not yet returned home.

James woke at seven o'clock the next morning. It was still dark and the room was cold, so it was several minutes before he made himself get up and face the last day at school. He pulled on a jumper and slipped on some slippers to brave the chill of the kitchen. Esther was leaning against the oven looking dazed.

“Morning Est,” James yawned, “Are you alright?”

She looked up to stare at her brother blankly, “Dad didn’t come home.”

James reached for his mobile that he had put in his pyjama pocket,

“His phone is off” Esther said, running her fingers through her hair. “I’m not really sure what to do.”

James sat down, thinking.

“He might have gone to the pub and then stayed at a friends?”

“He might have, yeah.” Esther could feel her heart beating against her rib cage, “Should we just go to school and see what happens?” she asked.

“I guess so.”

Neither of them moved.

“Or perhaps we could skive and go have a look around.” James suggested, “It’s our last day, I wont learn anything new.” There was a pause as Esther weighed up her proirities.

“Yes. Okay. Lets do that. I think I’ll be worried all day if we don’t.” said Esther, grimacing.

“Okay, I’ll go get changed and then we can get going.” James gave Esther a reassuring squeeze and ran upstairs.

Once again Esther and James were driving through the winding streets, but this time they had passed the town square and were on their way to Nick Temple’s house, one of their father’s more repellent friends. He lived a convenient three doors down from a popular pub. Esther pulled into the King’s Arms’ car park and both of them breathed a sigh of relief, parked in front of them was their dad’s old, weatherbeaten Ford.

“Lets just go and knock on Nick’s door, make sure he’s okay.” said Esther.

Hesitantly and feeling slightly stupid for overreacting, James and Esther walked along the sidewalk and knocked on number thirty three’s door. After several moments a middle aged man appeared and a ghastly waft of stale alcohol greeted them.

“What time do you think this is? Who are you?” The man stumbled forwards squinting at them. James took a few steps back, startled. Esther moved in front of him, looking upwards to stare at the man in his barely opened eyes.

“Nick, Its Esther Salisbury, John’s daughter. We were wondering if dad stayed over last night?”

“Well now your daddy never mentioned how pretty you were!” He snorted, and then he pointed an accusing and fat finger at James. “And quivering behind you must be John’s infamous son! He had a thing or two to say about you last night young man and they definitely weren’t good things I’ll tell you that!” The smelly man laughed stupidly, “But no, no, John didn’t stay. I had better company last night.” He puffed his chest out proudly. “Your daddy left the pub before things got rowdy, ‘round ten probably. Party pooper.” He belched, shrugged and shut the door. Esther and James stood in silence. James was reeling from a conflicting mixture of anger at his father’s apparent bitching and a simultaneous worry at his whereabouts. Meanwhile Esther was making a mental list of the houses they would check next.

“Who else do we know in a walking radius of here? Or he might have caught the train?”

After several hours of door knocking, phone calling and pointless driving around, they decided to venture an hour out of town to their Aunt’s house, their father’s sister. Despite not having heard from her for several months, her house was on the train line and it seemed like a plausible destination for a wondering, lonely, drunk man to go. She rented a decrepit bricked, bungalow on the corner of a dilapidated estate and Esther had little hope in her heart when she knocked on the door. After several moments, a middle aged, fat woman with a furrowed brow appeared in the doorframe.

“Esther. Why are you here?” said the woman.

“We’re so sorry Aunty Francis but we cant find dad.” Esther stomach had dropped, evidently, their father was not here either.

“How long has he been gone for?” Her tone was blunt and unfeeling. She glanced towards their car parked in her drive.

“He didn’t come home last night, and he’s none of the usual places.”

“Or any of the unusual,” James piped up.

Francis’ eyes moved to James. She licked her lips and hoisted up her jeans, jiggling her fat unpleasantly.

“And I suppose you want me to come back to yours and baby sit you.” Esther shook her head and began to protest, but Francis waved her hands, silencing her. “Well alright! Alright! I’ll come, if you’re both so incompetent at looking after yourselves! If he hasn’t returned by tonight, we’ll give the police a ring.” she signalled for them to wait and she returned inside, tripping over the cardboard boxes that filled her hallway. James gave Esther a worried look.

“She doesn’t need to come back to ours Esther. Lets just politely refuse and wait for dad by ourselves.” James’ brow was as furrowed as his aunt’s.

Esther shrugged in reply. She felt lightheaded and dizzy. If they went home with their aunt, Esther wouldn’t have to do as much. Maybe Francis would ring the police for her and explain. She warmed to the feeling of an adult taking control. They waited in silence until Francis reappeared with two large suitcases.

“Put these in the car.” She threw the bags at her nieces feet, hitting her shins. Esther winced, but lugged them obediently to the boot. Once Francis has squished herself in the front seat, relegating James to the back, Esther drove the odorous, old car back to the house. It had been an awkward journey. James had desperately attempted to convince Francis that they did not need her help but his protestations were fruitless and in the end both Francis and Esther told him to be quiet.

As they walked in the door, Both James and Esther risked a glance into the lounge room. Every evening since their mother had died their father would habitually morph himself into the couch, fix his eyes on the television and gulp from an overfilled wine glass. They hardly had the time to process that he was not in his usual spot when Aunt Francis herself sat down, glueing her bottom to the chair.

“Good. Well now you can just wait until it gets later and if the old sod isn’t home, you can call the coppers. Esther, what were you going to make for dinner?” Esther blinked, feeling confused. Since about twelve o'clock that day a host of nervous butterflies had made a home within her hands and stomach.

“Um, I’m not sure. Lasagne?”

“Good. Well you get to that now. I like an early dinner. James, your father must have hidden some wine around here. Go fetch a glass for your Aunty.” She turned her three chins towards the TV and switched it on. She made a gurgling sound of relaxation as she undid her belt, letting her tummy spill over her jeans.

The siblings convened in the small kitchen.

“Try not to let her boss you around Esther” James said quietly.

“Why is that important?” Esther snapped. “Dad is missing. Our one remaining parent? Do you remember him? Because after we’ve lost this one, we’ve got none left.” A wave of stress and upset crashed over Esther’s head. Her nostrils flared and her jaw clenched as she tried to hold back tears. James bent his head and looked at the floor. He hated upsetting his sister.

“Fine. I might go read upstairs. Not much we can do for now.” he said, shuffling away. Esther’s shoulders drooped and her tears gave way as she watched her brother drag his body up the dank staircase. She wiped her face with her sleeve and made a start on Francis’ list of chores, starting by handing her an overfilled glass of wine.

After several hours, James had relocated back to the kitchen, book in hand. The hard fluro light was hurting his eyes and the smell of some undetectable dead rodent was making him feel unwell. There was nowhere to hide from the misery in their new house. He tried to read but the words weren’t making sense so he put the book down and began watching his sister. Esther was repeatedly walking the eight strides from one end of the kitchen to the other. Her eyes were red and puffy and her hair was greasy from continuously running her hands through it.

“Its eleven thirty. We should call them now, shouldn’t we?” said James.

Esther had spent the last six hours on call, cleaning and cooking. Francis had not been filled by the lasagne and so she had been repeatedly demanding cake, tea and then biscuits at regular intervals throughout the evening. Esther had even made a late night dash to the petrol station for some chocolate. Despite her exhaustion she was secretly grateful to be kept busy and unthinking. She did not want to call the police. She did not want to admit that something dreadful might have happened to the Salisburys, yet again.

“Esther I think we should ring them now.” James said again.

“Let’s just leave it until tomorrow morning.” said Esther. James shook his head.

“We’ll ask Francis to do it for us.” He said, trying to sound calm.

Francis was in the same position at eleven thirty as she had been at five, but when her niece and nephew entered the room, she shut her eyes and pretended to sleep. It was only when James’s nudges had turned into shoves that she had no choice but to awake from her fraudulent doze.

“Oh James,” she faked confusion, “why would you taunt your sleeping, old aunt like that. Stupid boy.”

“We were thinking it’s time to ring the police Aunt Francis, seeing as he’s still not home, and its been a bit over twenty four hours now.” said James.

“Oh! You haven’t already rung them?” said Francis, mildly interested. Esther and James looked at her, their mouths slightly ajar, “Well go ring them then! And be real quick about it too. God knows you’ve probably waited too long already, who knows where you’ve left him!” She began wiping the cookie crumbs off her large bust, sprinkling them on the floor. “Esther you ring and James you show me to your mum and dad’s bedroom. I’m bloody exhausted.” She yawned, and wrenched herself off the couch. James’ head dropped but he led Francis out of the room, leaving Esther staring at the large butt imprint carved into the lounge.

Esther felt nauseous as she dialled the police station and slowly explained the situation. At the same time James was feeling equally as queasy. He kept his eyes lowered as he made his father’s bed, desperately trying to avoid looking at his aunt, who was unashamedly undressing in the corner of the room. Again the siblings convened in the kitchen.

“They said they’d send someone over in the morning and for us not to worry. People normally turn up within forty eight hours apparently.” The policewoman’s attempt at being comforting had left Esther feeling even more stressed. “Lets just go to sleep James.”

A woman from the missing person’s bureau had come and gone, details had been exchanged, Francis continued to sit on the couch, and still, one week later, there was no sign of John Salisbury. He had been put in the ‘medium risk’ police file and a small notice had appeared in the local newspaper. Other than that, little progress had been made, one of the women from the Bureau had explained that it was always a slower process over christmas, what with less people to help search and everyone focussing on festivities. Despite this, James would spend the days dropping of leaflets, while Esther tended to her aunt and the numerous members of community that were paying awkward pity visits.

It was three days from Christmas when it came to light that Aunt Francis had not been entirely open about her living situation. For the first time in days she had left the couch to retrieve ‘A few essentials’ from her home. She had returned with eight large, removal boxes and several bits of furniture. At this, James decided it was time to speak up, and that was when the fight began.

“It’s your duty to stand by me when I’m in need!” Francis banged the kitchen table with scrunched up fists. All three of her chins were wobbling, threatening a tantrum. “You’re my family! I don’t have a job! I can’t pay the rent! My own brother has gone missing! And you want to throw me out into the streets?” She was screaming, crocodile tears began to swim down her face. Esther tentatively reached out her hand to comfort her aunt.

“Don’t touch me girl!” Francis flew out her arms, hitting her niece hard in the stomach. Esther fell backwards, knocking over the garbage bin, spilling rubbish everywhere and revealing a small, dead, decomposing mouse. James moved quickly to his sister’s side, lifting her up and out of the binned lasagne that was now all over her jeans. He was furious. He doubted he had ever hated anyone more in his life, even Luke from school was better than this.

“Oh that’s what created the smell,” Francis sneered, “And here I was thinking it was just unhygienic Esther. I’ll be in my room and let this episode serve as a warning. You both owe me. I’m doing you a favour. If I wasn’t here, social services would have you taken somewhere nasty. So when you’re both ready I’ll be waiting for an apology and a thank you.” James could hardly move for his fury. He watched, every muscle clenched, as Esther began cleaning up the stinking scraps scattered all over the floor. After some time, he found his voice.

“I want you to come with me to London and stay with Tom for christmas. I spoke to him yesterday. You know he manages that fancy pub? Well he said I could wait on tables for Christmas lunch.” James looked at his sister intently. Tom had been their mother’s good friend. He lived a stones throw away from Hyde park.

Esther paused. It was so tempting.

“James I want to, but the social worker is coming over tomorrow. I’ve got to be here for that and what if Dad comes home? And what about Francis? I need to stay here.”

“That stupid woman just hit you and you want to stay here?”

“You don’t stand up to the boys that hit you at school!” She immediately regretted her outburst, “Oh god, I’m sorry Jamie. I didn’t mean that.” James didn’t look at her, “ I just can’t leave right now James.” Esther felt humiliated. She was shocked and ashamed at what she was allowing herself to be put through. “But I want you to go. It’s a great idea. Go earn a bit of money and I’ll come down on christmas day, okay?”

James bit his lip.

“Just go James. I’ll see you in two days.”

James had felt guilty as he sat on the London bound train, leaving his sister to deal with the remaining mess that was their lives. He swore to himself that he’d use the money earned from Christmas lunch to buy something for Esther. No one deserved a christmas present more, he thought.

James was smiling his brilliant smile. He wore a smart shirt, ironed trousers and Tom’s red and green Christmas bow tie. He had even attempted to shine his school shoes. He looked the part as he carefully carried the plates of roast turkey, potatoes and greens to each of the chattering and festive tables. Tom was pleased with James’ work and even let him take a call in the middle of the hustle and bustle.

“Esther? Is that you Est? Are you nearly here? Any news about dad?” James blocked one ear and pressed his mobile close to the other, trying to hear above the noises of Christmas.

“James, It’s me! Something’s held me up. Nothing bad, just Francis. I’m going to catch the four o’clock train, so wont be with you until five thirty. I’m sorry James, I’m so sorry.” James rarely felt anger towards his sister, but a twinge of un-festive resentment flared in his chest.

“Just leave her Esther!”

“I’m sorry Jamie,” ‘Jamie’ was Esther’s pet name for her brother. It was reserved for special occasions but mostly for when Esther was feeling particularly guilty. “Maybe we can have a christmas stroll around Hyde park when I get there okay?”

“Alright. Fine. I’ll see you soon.”

James’ smile was just as broad for the rest of the sitting but it had less sparkle than it had before and there was something sad in his eyes. James had asked Tom if he could be paid in advance so that he could buy Esther’s present before the shops closed for the holiday. He had done so and he was pleased with his purchase but at the end of his shift he left with empty pockets and slumped, tired shoulders. James had left his sister’s gift on the spare bed that he had made up for Esther. It was wrapped in a big green box with a large red ribbon that he had tied himself. He checked his watch: four thirty. Another hour before Esther’s train would arrive. James searched his mind for something to do to fill the time. After some aimless wondering around he found himself back at Tom’s apartment, retying the big red ribbon.

At five thirty he met Esther outside Knightsbridge tube station. He was carrying his present and wearing a genuine smile when Esther appeared. She had tied her hair with a piece of tinsel and two small and merry bells dangled from her ears. They jingled as she hugged her brother.

“What on earth have you got here?” Esther looked playfully at the box, “What a lovely red ribbon!”

James chuckled, “Come on lets go for a walk in the park. You can open it there, I’ve bought a blanket.”

The two siblings walked arm in arm through the park. Bells were ringing, christmas lights were sparkling and everyone around them was filled with the involuntary happiness that Christmas day brings.

“Now before you do anything, I’ve got something small for you.” They had sat near the lake, where the lights shone and people were about. To James’ delight Esther pulled out two pan au raisons and an item wrapped in newspaper.

“I’m sorry Jamie, this took me ages to find. We have so many unpacked boxes of old stuff and Francis kept wanting to intrude and it just took me so long.” Esther’s breath was ragged, “I wanted to pick you up from work, but I also really wanted to find you this. So I’m sorry I was so late.”

James immediately regretted his short temper on the phone. He shook his head, protesting her apologies. He leant over and gave her a hug before tearing off the newspaper and discovering an old leather book, inscribed with gold leaf:

The Starry Messenger - By Galileo Galilei.

“It’s Dad’s James. I remembered seeing him with it when you were talking about your book the other day. He’s written notes all the way through it.” James looked at it, swallowed, and smiled.

“Its beautiful Esther, I can’t wait to ask Dad all about it.” Esther’s bottom lip quivered. “Here, this is for you.” James said quickly, Recovering, Esther clapped her hands together excitedly and opened the box. James had filled it with packets of different coloured beads, gems and several dozen necklace chains.

“The man at the shop said you could make around forty necklaces and bracelets with all of this. I picked all the beads and stones myself. These ones here are my favourite, they’re shell. ” Esther cried silently as she listened to her brother chatter about his bead choices. After a while he stopped and she rested her head on his shoulder, shivering a little and looking at the lake.

“Are we going back home tomorrow Esther?” Asked James.

The young woman looked at her brother. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She tried to talk again but nothing happened. The world began to sway. Panic rose in Esther’s chest, she reached out blindly and grabbed onto James’ arms but she could feel his body resisting her grip. She held as tight as she could. And then Hyde park was gone.