Chapter 2 A Warning Disobeyed

“What is your name?” asked Anais, wondering who this mysterious person was.
“Refill the dog’s water bowl,” replied the woman, obviously deflecting. She turned her back to the unwanted visitor. Anais attempted to stroke the white Maltese. It growled. “Heel, Peony,” the woman called, she clicked her long fingers. “Girl, my name is Lobelia, Lobelia Crocus.” she wrapped a ginger lock behind her elf-like ear, her dog wagging its tail. “You may look around my shop, but you may not, I repeat, not, touch my Book of Mother Nature!”.

A few moments later, Ms Crocus had vanished with Peony, in a quick tornado of ginger and green, which left Anais on her own. In awe, she stared up at the towering bookcase made of mahogany, the bookcase dotted with faded verdant and incarnadine books. ​She longed to open the Book of Mother Nature, but knew she couldn’t. It was forbidden. Though she was bored, she made up games for herself. Bored, and leaning on the bookcase, it seemed to turn, and revealed a door, with a door-knocker with silver-studded planks. It creaked as it turned.​ Anais almost fell forward. Through the oaken door, she saw the book, again, had it teleported?

Bored, and leaning on the bookcase, it seemed to turn, and revealed a door, with a door-knocker with silver-studded planks. It creaked as it turned.​ Anais almost fell forward. Through the oaken door, she saw the book, again, had it teleported? She walked towards the desk and switched on the light.

Without thinking, Anais began placing the fountain pen on the sheet. She etched a red brick cottage with a forest surrounding it. She wrote: ‘ I would love a remote cottage, with a stream behind it and a variety of wild birds for company. Oh, and a path through the forest, so I can explore!’ Soon after, words fluttered across the page. They arranged themselves like soldiers.

The “scrape, scrape” of Peony’s claws against the wooden floor made Anais turn her head. She immediately closes the book; it shook. The dog stood in front of the door and wrote the words:’ OPEN THE DOOR’. Without thinking, Anais followed the Maltese’s instructions. After stepping inside, the dog disappeared. Where had it gone?

Through the door, was the scene Anais had imagined. The stream babbled childishly as the sun filtered through the towering birch trees. Blue tits chirped tunefully as rabbits chewed on wild berries. It was a dream come true. Then the world turned on her. Suddenly, it became stormy and wolves started howling. There was no escape for Anais. She ran, and shoved her bony shoulder into the wooden door;
but all it would do was rattle.