The Silver Lining

“Stop! Stop!”, cried Molly's old Aunty, grabbing hold of the pink handle of the umbrella that she had just opened, “You should never open an umbrella indoors. Never. Don’t you know that?”.

Molly looked up at her aunty, bewildered.

“Why Aunty?”, she asked.

“Because”, said her Aunty, deadly serious now, scowling down at her as she closed up the umbrella, “It’ll bring bad luck into the house and I don’t want any more bad luck. Not at my age”.

Molly thought her Aunty sounded a little bit batty but she didn’t want to offend her and so she played along with it.

“I’ll wait till I get outside”, she said, “That’s okay, isn’t it Aunty? Opening it outside?”.

“Yes, that’s alright”, her Aunty replied, smiling for a moment, but then, her face becoming grave and worried again, she went on to tell Molly a whole lot of other strange things about ‘bad luck’.

“There are lots of things that one should never do”, she said, “Like walking under a ladder, that’s a big one, or breaking a mirror, that’s 13 years of bad luck and 13 is a very unlucky number. Also, one should never leave a hat on a bed or new shoes on a table or sneeze without someone saying ‘God Bless You’ or spill salt without throwing a little over your shoulder”.

Molly's head started to reel as she tried to remember all the things her Aunty was telling her.

“There certainly are a lot of rules about not doing things”, she said.

“Oh and I’ve only told you a few of them”, said her Aunty, “There are lots more. Hundreds in fact or maybe even thousands”.

But, just then, her Aunty remembered something and, hurrying into her living room, she got something down from a book shelf which, re-entering her hallway, she handed to Molly.

It was a book, a strange sort of old, blue leather bound book embossed with lots of peculiar looking brightly coloured symbols like horseshoes and four leaf clovers, rabbits feet and rainbows and, along its spine, Molly read the words, “Old Mother Doodelum’s Hyperstitious Almanac”.

“What’s a –?”, Molly double-checked the word, “An Alma-Nack?”, she asked.

“Why, it’s an amazing book that tells you all the things you need to know. It predicts the weather. It tells you when there’ll be eclipses or shooting stars; it tells your horoscope and, most important of all, it tells you what’s good luck and what’s bad luck”, said her Aunty.

But then, as Molly’s Aunt was speaking, the book suddenly seemed to fly open, as if a strong gust of wind had entered the room and, looking down in surprise, Molly saw that, on the front page was an engraved picture of an old, jolly, smiling woman, dressed in old fashioned clothes and sitting in a rocking chair and, underneath her picture, were printed these words,

“West is East and East is West;
three times round the robin’s nest,
call my name and I shall come,
Hester Prester Doodelum”.

Molly’s Aunt hadn’t noticed the book open, however, because at that same time the rain had suddenly been joined by the thunder and lightning and her Aunt said, looking out of her window at the storm, “Sounds like the bad lucks getting started already”.

But then, as Molly closed the book and slipped it into her shoulder bag, Molly’s Aunt smiled again and, pinching Molly’s cheeks, as she had the annoying habit of doing, she said, “Never mind. Every cloud has a silver lining and there’s no question of me taking you home in this weather. I shall have to call your mother and tell her that it’s too stormy and you’ll be staying longer. Then I can bake a Rainy-Day cake for you with raisins to take away the raindrops and sweet icing to beat the chill”.

Molly’s eyes brightened when her Aunty mentioned cake because she knew that her Aunt was a very good baker and always made the most delicious cakes for her.

Suddenly, however, there was an enormous clap of thunder and a flash of lightning as bright as the moon and Molly thought that, just for a second, she saw the silhouette of a black cat behind her
Aunty’s venetian blinds.

“Oh, Aunty!”, said Molly, pointing towards the blinds, “Did you see that?”.

“Yes”, replied her Aunty, only half listening, “Worst thunderstorm I’ve seen in years but then, that’s what happens when you go messing with the powers of providence, opening an umbrella indoors”.

But then, as if lightning and shadows weren’t enough to send shivers tingling along Molly’s backbone, suddenly the front door of her Aunt’s house flew open and there, on the doorstep
was a black cat with green eyes as bright as emeralds and, as if it had already been invited, it
strolled right in.

“Oh Good heavens!”, said Molly’s Aunt when she saw the cat, getting hold of a broom to shoo the cat away, “Don’t let it cross your path, whatever you do”.

However, then that cat was followed in by twelve other identical black cats and Molly’s Aunt started to wonder if an ordinary broom would be enough to get rid of them.

“Please do allow us to introduce ourselves”, said the first of the black cats in a sort of miaowing voice, “We are the thirteen black cats, the messengers of Dame Misfortune”.

“Dame who?”, asked Molly, her Aunt too flabbergasted by the sight of a talking cat to say anything.

“Dame Misfortune”, the cat replied, “You’ve heard of Lady Luck, no doubt. Well, Dame Misfortune is her twin sister and it’s her job to oversee the misfortune of all the men, women, little boys and girls of this world”.

“But why?”, asked Molly’s Aunt, finally plucking up the courage to speak, “Why us?”.

“Oh, why must anything bad happen to anyone”, sighed the Cat, looking slightly morose, “It’s something I often ask myself. The reason is, there is no reason. Good and bad seem to suffer
much the same but that’s why we invented superstitions so that people would have some
reason; some explanation; something to blame for their bad luck”.

Then the cat, using its tail, pointed towards Molly, “Officially, this young girl has broken several rules set down by Dame Misfortune herself. Not only did she open an umbrella indoors, which in itself is a grievous offence, but she also did it at One O’ Clock, the thirteenth hour of the day and on a Friday and a bank holiday to boot”.

“Bank Holiday? Is that unlucky?”, asked Molly’s Aunt, surprised and quite bewildered, “I didn’t know”.

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a lot you didn’t know”, said the Cat, now pacing up and down rather like a prosecuting attorney in a court room, “But ignorance is no defence. The rules have been broken
and the fates must be appeased. That is why it has been decided that this young girl shall have thrice times thirteen years of bad luck”.

“39 years?”, asked Molly’s Aunt, shocked, “That seems very harsh”.

“I know”, said the cat, weeping a small tear from its bright green left eye that, getting caught upon one of its whiskers, it had to wipe away with its tail, “But I don’t make up the rules”.

Just then, however, Molly remembered the little rhyme that she had read on the first page of the book her Aunt had given her, the one that said:

“West is East and East is West;
three times round the robin’s nest,
call my name and I shall come,
Hester Prester Doodelum”.

And then, because it seemed like she had little to lose, Molly did as the rhyme instructed and called out the name.

“Hester Prester Doodelum”, she shouted and, in a bright, multi-coloured flash like a rainbow mixed with lightning, there suddenly appeared an old woman who looked just like the picture that Molly had seen in the book and she was holding a large sack.

“Who are you?”, asked Molly’s Aunt, amazed that a day which had already been so strange could get any stranger.

“You seem to be under a bit of a dark cloud”, said the woman, opening her sack before pursing her lips and blowing on a large, brass hunting horn, “I’m the Silver Lining”.

Then, suddenly, out of the sack came a sound like baying hounds and then, not merely one or two but thirteen hunting dogs shot from the burlap bag as fast as greyhounds after a rabbit and, turning
to run, the first of The Thirteen Black Cats called out to his brothers, “Flee my fellow felines! Flee! Mrs Doodelum has the upper hand!”.

But, even though the Cats were now all running away, looking desperately for a dark shadow to leap into like a deep hole, Molly’s Aunt was still not happy.

“Well they’ve gone”, she said to the mysterious but jovial and friendly Mrs Doodelum, “But my poor little niece Molly is still condemned to Thirty Nine years of bad luck, isn’t she?”.

“Perhaps”, she replied, breezily, “But there’s one good luck charm that helps people get through anything, no matter what storms may come and that’s when people stand together, in love or in friendship. Whatever Dame Misfortune may hurl at us; together we make our own good luck”.

Then, the storm outside suddenly subsiding and taking the rain with it; sunlight, bright and golden burst in through the window of Molly’s Aunts house and Mrs Doodelum put on some sunglasses and opened a pretty, silk parasol.