Read The Contrary Tale of the Butterfly Girl: From the Peculiar Adventures of John Loveheart, Esq., Volume 2 for Free Online Page A

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    “ Sailing, eh? Well I know Grandpa upstairs has an old boat he might let you use on the lake.
    And what about you , Boo Boo? ”
    Boo Boo replies, the frog sock puppet mouthing the answer, “ I am a dinosaur. I like to eat people. ”
    “ She ’ s a funny little girl. Certainly more lively than my three. ”
    “ What about schooling for them? ” inquires Reverend Plum.
    “ Let ’ s not worry about that over dinner. Mrs Charm does some occasional tutoring, I am sure that will suffice. And of course there ’ s Sunday school. The v icar, Mr Wormhole, provides a stimulating environment for young minds. ”
    “ It all sounds very encouraging. ”
    The conversation for the rest of the main course comprises of Mr Grubweed going into some length about how you drain a corpse of all its bodily fluids and the price of coffins these days. The pudding is finally brought out: three piping hot apple and blackberry pies with a bowl of hot custard.
    I am handed a huge slice, which I drown in custard.
    “ Who does the big black dog belong to, Mr Grubweed? ” I ask.
    “ He ’ s Grandpa ’ s. His name is Guardian. Tore a man ’ s leg off once , bugger was trying to break into the house. ”
    “ How charming. Do you have a local constabulary? ” coughs Reverend Plum.
    “ No. When there ’ s trouble, which there has been, a fella from Scotland Yard pops up and investigates. ”
    “ What sort of trouble have you had? ”
    “ Well, apart from the odd thieving and poaching, quite a few people have gone missing over the last few years. ”
    “ Missing? ”
    “ Just disappeared. Body parts were found in the woods. ”
    “ Good heavens. Has anything happened recently? ” asks Reverend Plum.
    “ Last month, the butcher ’ s wife, Mrs Crumble. They found her foot hanging off a tree on the Beetle estate. ”
    “ How did they know the foot was hers? ” I ask.
    “ Clever boy. Well, apparently she only had four toes on one foot. It ’ s probably gypsies, or might be Mr Loveheart having a laugh. ”
    Reverend Plum has gone a peculiar shade of green. “ I don ’ t feel very well, ” he says, putting down his dessert spoon.
    “ I don ’ t think we can afford to overreact, ” sighs Mr Grubweed. “ There are certain compromises one makes when moving to the countryside. ”
    “ Compromises? ” cries a flabbergasted r everend.
    “ There are a lot of weirdoes out here. I ’ m a man of the world. My own father, who was a bricklayer, used to occasionally dress up in a ball gown and tiara and hang out at the Docks. Body parts in the woods; it ’ s all part of life. I ’ ve seen corpses explode before. ”
    “ I need to lie down, ” says Reverend Plum, rising from his chair. “ I have a weak heart. ”
    “ Josephine will take you to your room. ” His wife, who hasn ’ t moved all evening, stands very slowly and, lurching like a recently dug up corpse, escorts Reverend Plum into the hallway. I finish my apple pie and have a second helping. It is delicious.
     
    After dinner, Boo Boo and I are taken upstairs to our bedrooms, which are situated in the attic. Boo Boo ’ s is a tiny little room with a small window. I kiss her goodnight and she is tucked in with her frog puppet. Guardian the dog ambles up the stairs and slumps himself outside Boo Boo ’ s bedroom, keeping one eye open.
    My own room is larger, with a view overlooking the herb garden and the woods. I stand on tiptoe and, peering out, can see through the mass of trees a turret peeking through. This, I think, must be the home of the mysterious Professor .
    Tha t night I dream the world is made of water. I am on a boat which floats softly on an ocean landscape as blue as angel eyes. A mirror world. I can see fat fish and suffocating vegetation deep underwater, tendrils of black seaweed and mutations of jellyfish. Odd glimpses of scissor-like creatures, horror-white, glistening under the looking-glass ripples.
    Bloated egg-laying machines, with rainbow fins,