The Last Suitor

Mother had always taught me to knock before entering a lady's dwelling. I had dutifully followed this social norm imagining it was all underpinned by politeness and deference. But as I swing here, upside down, clutched in the grasp of a monstrous beast, the posy of lavender and dasies that I had been holding just minutes before when I entered the room strewn on the floorboards above my head, I can't help but wonder if the convention actually exists on the off chance the lady turns out to be a werewolf.

When Flora arrived in the village in late April, the hedgerows seemed to bloom in her wake. The light breeze carried auburn hair over rosy cheeks and a delicate smile. She had come from Liverpool to replace old Mr Prouse as the teacher at the local school on account of his ailing health. Immediately the children took to her, entranced by her sweetness and gentle nature. Of course all the lads from the farms were transfixed too and from the off became obsessed with their plans to woo her, excitedly formulating their strategies pissedly over pints in the pub. Flora as it turned out seemed to be deaf to the flattery though, turning away suitor after suitor, never allowing a man over her threshold. 

While the children and the men fawned, the ladies in the village instead looked upon Flora with narrowed eyes and suspicious whispers. This was not an altogether unexpected reaction to a mysetrious newcomer stealing the affection of every potential husband, but the women had increasingly strange words of warning for the men. Anne Taylor was heard telling Colin Cox one night in The Red Lion that she was certain Flora gave off the aroma of wet dog. Anne then splashed half a glass of nettle wine down her front and Colin rolled his eyes and returned to his courtship plans.

In the middle of May, the villagers forgot their preoccupation with Flora briefly as a search began for one of the young farm hands, Sebastian. The boy was only seven and ten years and was apprenticing on Derek Heard's sheep farm. At least he was, until one morning he never arrived up to tend to the flock. His poor mother frantic with worry finding his bed had not been slept in and his dinner left uneaten. Though the village and the countryside around it were combed though multiple times by every available pair of eyes and hands, with no sign of anything after two weeks, most believed the boy must have abandoned the village and his overbearing mother to seek a fortune in a town or city offering more excitement than the rural lot. Only Sebastian's mother clung to the notion that he had come to harm. Young lads had left the village before to persue other dreams and Sebastian had talked of his interest in medicine. Far more likely in the minds of the vilagers was a flight to follow his fortune than any sort of foul play. 

Not a single person had considered the fact that on the night Sebastian disappeared, the moon that hung over the village was full.

As lush May gave way to the hazy June fields, filled with flitting ladybirds and shrews hanging from the ears of wheat, Sebastian was forgotten and the last few dregs of the village singletons attempted to make an impression on Flora. The poorest, the lamest and most shy made half-hearted attempts at seduction. I can't tell you why I waited until last to throw my hat into the ring. I certainly wasn't as hard up as Gregory Pitt, nor as lacking in limbs as Frank Milner who lost his left leg to a combine harvester. I also certainly possessed more confidence in myself than Harry Larten who, if rumor is to be believed only got a couple of words into his well rehearsed disquisition before vomiting all over Flora's doorstep.

So sometime around mid June I gathered flowers, bathed thoroughly and planned my words carefully. In the back of mind was a voice, overconfident and complacent, imagining that as I was the last option I surely must stand a better chance. Even a stubborn and unaccommodating young lady must realise the life of a spinster cannot be preferable to the advantages of a husband to provide for her.

At Flora's door I straightened my shirt, smoothed my hair and rapped on the wood.

No answer.

I hadn't actually planned for that. Rejection had played over in my mind but in no scenario I'd imagined had she not even answered the door. Of course she would probably be tired of the frequent unannounced visitors and she may also still have the image of Harry throwing up on his own shoes in her mind, but it was now or never so I knocked again.

Still no answer.

Maybe she had come to harm? Choked on a apple core or slipped on freshly mopped floor? My mind worked in overtime. The lamps were lit inside so she must be in. I make the decision to open the door. Just to check. Only to ensure she's safe and sound.

Inside is dimly illuminated. The lantern on the table casting shadows against the walls, bathing everything in a yellow hue.

"Flora," I call out. No response. "I just wanted to ensure you are well?," I try again.

This time a strange voice answers from the shadows,

"I most certainly am, the same cannot be said for you though."

The cadence is female but with a raspy growl permeating through. It's like nothing I've ever heard before. As I'm squinting my eyes see into the darkness a flurry of impossibly fast movement sweeps me from the floor and I drop the flowers clutched in my fist.

"You are the last one aren't you? Also the unluckiest too. Visiting me tonight, walking into my house without invite. Just as unlucky as foolhardy Sebastian."

The creature speaking has my right shin in its impossibly strong grip and I'm still swinging from being flipped upside down while it talks, a grotesque face drawn level with my own and snarling teeth bared in a angry grimace.

"Did you think I was going to fall into your arms idiot boy? Did you think we were to be married by the autumn?" The beast cackled. "This village is so quaint, so innocent, so ready to be torn apart." The snarling lips curled even more.

"Sebastian..." I managed to splutter as the blood rushed to my head and I started feeling unreal.

"Oh you haven't seen anything yet sweetie, Sebastian was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, much like you. Just wait until I start my real campaign of chaos, although, sorry dearest, you won't actually be there to witness it."

And then the world starts to fade as my body reacts to both fright and gravity. I stare into the yellow eyes of the beast and I can clearly see the devastation she will rain down upon the village. Right before I pass out she leans even closer in and utters in a barely audible whisper directly into my ear.

"They're going to pay for what they did to her."