Strange Tales
by Anton Valdemart
Top Hat and Tales Esmerelda had always had a vivid imagination but it was a chance discovery that took her brain into overdrive. There was a locked room at the back of the house where she had never ventured. “We don’t go in there Esmie - it’s full of junk,” Mrs Parker told her daughter. Naturally, this created a surge of curiosity. They lived in a rambling house overlooking Newsham Park, inherited from grandparents about the time Esmie was born. As an only child, her creativity was fed by all kinds of relics from a stuffed crocodile to vellum documents covered in copperplate writing. These objects helped stimulate her vivid imagination. She thought up all kinds of tales which became an attraction at family parties. “Where does she get them from?” was a typical reaction. Some were funny, others intriguing while most were too far-fetched to be believed.
There were finely dressed people in smart carriages. A wedding flashed before her eyes then she felt two invisible hands trying to pull the hat away from her. Mother gave Esmie a mild ticking off for going into the room but allowed her to keep the hat. Esmie was astonished at the visions the hat conjured up, even just looking at it. These intensified when she held the headgear. She told her stories to family and friends with the hat on a table in front of her. “Here comes Esmie with her top hat and tales,” became the cry at parties and get-togethers. One tale stood out. The topper was the focus of a prank - it ended up in a sooty chimney. “What if these stories are true?” Esmie thought to herself.
The locked room revealed something that would take Esmie’s talents to new heights.
One day mother announced a special visitor. Great uncle Kynaston, grandfather’s brother, was visiting from far away.
She located the key to the sealed room hung, rather obviously, behind a cupboard door.
After a jolly meal, the elderly man was given a seat by the roaring fire.
She bided her time and, when everyone was out, carefully turned the key and entered the room.
He seemed distracted and stared at the blazing coals as Esmie told her latest tale - complete with top hat.
Esmie was disappointed not to find something sinister like a skeleton or cobweb-festooned furniture like Miss Havisham’s.
She was halfway through when great uncle Kynaston suddenly sprang into life. His face went bright red and his eyes almost popped out when he saw the topper.
It was indeed, as mother had said, full of junk. In the centre of the room, on an old table, stood the top hat.
He spluttered with fury: “You’ve got my hat!”
Esmie picked it up and admired the silk covering and ornate coat-of-arms on the inside.
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She put the topper on but it was so big it almost reached her nose. Immediately, all sorts of images materialised in her mind.
Read my next Strange Tale in the Link: The Disappointment.
