Image© Mara Eastern (Used with permission)
Grimace Street was like so many streets except it housed the remarkable Miss Marble. She lived at No 46 three up from my house and she’d lived there a long time. We all knew she was a witch but no one ever breathed a word of it to anyone outside Grimace Street.
Most people could never remember a time when Miss Marble wasn’t at No 46. By the time I grew up she had established a pretty regular routine with her neighbours.
Tuesday was Ailments Day, Wednesday Pets Day and Thursday Garden Day.
If on those days you had reason to call on her she would help you in any way she could. You had to go around the back of her house and wait for her.
Mind there was a protocol to be followed. You had to be a resident in the street and there was no way she would allow outsiders into her back shed where she did all her best work.
In the shed were her cauldrons, each one bubbling away with some potion or concoction designed to make life a little better for man, woman, beast or garden.
She expected the best of manners when you called on her. Knock politely, state your business and wait as she looked around her shed for just the thing to set you on the right path.
If you were impolite such as Unsavoury Avery was one day after several attempts to get help from Miss Marble had gone unanswered, your rudeness could result in something dire. Even after she explained to Unsavoury Avery several times about his manner in speaking to her he still insisted it was his right as the occupant of 3 Grimace Street to have his needs attended to.
On the unfortunate occasion he burst into her shed demanding help for a nasty body rash, Miss Marble had had enough of pandering to his non-existent good nature.
Added to her displeasure was the sight of her dog, Sal, (short for Salivate) growling at Unsavoury as he ranted and raved about his rights to her attention.
Mrs Smurther, a delightful young grey haired lady at No 36 saw him enter and cannot remember Unsavoury leaving. Later that day Arnold Coaps noticed a new concrete frog in Miss Marble’s front garden one that had a familiar look about it but one he couldn’t place.
No 3 Grimace Street stood idle for a long time as no amount of searching found any trace of Unsavoury.
For the rest of us it was business as usual with our aches and pains given relief of a Tuesday, our pets groomed and or cured of what ever it was that ailed them on Wednesday and all the gardeners with their green thumbs were given an extra green thumb as it was called in the form of Miss Marble’s Garden Tonic.
Life in Grimace Street went along a treat, healthy folk with healthy pets and the greenest most productive gardens in the district.