Patchwork by Emma Finlayson-Palmer (497 Words)

Rosie looked at the grainy black and white picture in the newspaper, she felt on edge. In the past year eleven women from the local area had gone missing, all of which were a similar age and appearance to Rosie, the thought made her shudder.

Rosie jumped as a tinny click announced the arrival of the post. Bills, oh, this one isn't for me. 'Maureen Smith,' she read from the envelope, she lives across the road. I'll pop it across in a minute, she thought.

Maureen seemed really pleased to see Rosie. 'Come in and have a seat, I'll get the kettle on. I don't get many visitors.'

'Oh, okay, thank you, that would be nice.'

'Come through to the back room and get yourself settled.'  

Rosie sunk down into a peach coloured sofa, white cotton doilies rested across the back. It was cosy, with lots of ceramic animals on every flat surface. Rosie heard the clinking of china and turned to see Maureen with a tray with two steaming cups of tea, and a plateful of biscuits. 'This looks lovely thank you Maureen.'

'Call me Mo, Maureen makes me feel old,' Maureen smiled. 'Help yourself,' Maureen gestured to the biscuits. 'You look a bit pale, everything okay?'

'I've been a bit jittery with these disappearances so close to home.'

'Yes, I can imagine it must be a worry for a young, pretty girl such as yourself. Never you mind, you just drink up that tea and you'll feel all better.'

Rosie sipped at the hot tea, the warmth enveloped her and she began to feel more relaxed.

Maureen spread out a patchwork blanket. 'I've been adding to this for quite some time.'  

'It's beautiful,' said Rosie and stroked her hand across the fabric. 'I love the materials.'

'If you like that you'll love the other one I've made,' Maureen's had an excited twinkle in her watery blue eyes.

Rosie looked at the blanket, she felt there was something familiar about the fabric, it was if she'd seen it somewhere before. An uneasy feeling swept over Rosie, she stood up a little unsteadily, she felt lightheaded. 'I should probably go.'

Maureen gripped Rosie's arm. 'You've only just got here, let me just show you my other patchwork before you go, I do so want you to see it, it's almost finished now.'

Rosie's politeness overcame her unease. 'Of course Maureen, sorry, Mo, I'd love to see it,' she lied.

Maureen opened a door into a small room off the living room where Rosie could see a sewing machine and other craft supplies. Across a table lay what looked like a leather blanket. Rosie held onto the door frame as she became increasingly dizzy.

'Eleven,' Rosie slurred as she staggered then crumpled to the floor.

'And now I can finish the twelfth patch,' Maureen bent down and stroked Rosie's bare arm. 'Skin of course makes the best material for a patchwork blanket.'

1 comment:

  1. OO er, made my skin tingle; well done Emma.