12 School Lane

It's a funny thing you know, John never thought for a moment that he would ever suffer from a stress related illness, he was much too stable. Well, here we are a year into his hospitalised world. It was soon after that cheapskate Tom Thorne wriggled out of his second arrest for murder, this was the final straw of his misunderstanding. He had made friends with that reliable ticking clock, his lonely companion and only reminder that the planet was still with him. The doctors recommended as part of his therapy, that it would be beneficial to recount the traumatic events of School Lane, the catalyst of his problems. Doctor Patterson assigned the night nurse Polly to assist as he dictated the story. This is a faithful account of the manuscript including the inaccuracies, warts and all. He had been absent from the house for twelve years along with a further year wasting away in the institution. He was by now an old man, barely able to feed himself, but he agreed. Mrs Adams died all of a sudden, leaving the old Victorian terraced house to her three sons in equal shares. The oldest James was a bully boy, always wanting his own way. The middle son John was easy going and anything for a quiet life. The youngest Peter knew he had the other two by the shorts and played them along for years. A caveat in the will allowed Peter to live in the house rent free for the rest of his life, or if the house was to be sold, then all three sons had to agree. Clever old Mrs Adams, those three sons would never agree about anything, well, not all at the same time and she knew it. Leaving the youngest a home for the rest of his life. John felt obliged to visit as often as he could, but things had changed over the years. He was met more than once with guilty furtive glances from Peter. As if there were things going on. Along with, have you noticed anything kind of looks? Violent outbursts for no reason, coupled with strange questions as if searching for something. The years of taunts passed by very slowly. Peter would often play his trump card with the words. "I have decided to sell the house and move on elsewhere." Much to the delight of the older two, only to suddenly change his mind at the last minute Cat and mouse games were his thing, along with his speciality and favourite pastime, hoaxing. Nothing pleased Peter more than a complete set-up, to see others running around as he would say like headless chickens. These silly games were to cease when Peter suddenly passed away. The older sons were to inherit a house with lots more than they had ever bargained for, plus a garden full of strangers.