Free Three to See the King by Magnus Mills Page A

the other evening. It struck me that this part of the world was becoming quite crowded for the time of year, and I pondered what was bringing them all in our direction.
    ‘I think we’ll have these shutters open,’ said Mary Petrie a little later. ‘Let some light in for a change.’
    This was intended as an instruction to me, of course, and I had to spend an hour or two going round the outside of the house trying to get them all unfastened. In truth, I’d been hoping to avoid the question of the shutters because I knew some of them to be badly jammed. During previous years I’d found it much more convenient simply to prop the door open in mild conditions, and leave the shutters as they were. Mary Petrie had other ideas. Things had to be done correctly, in her opinion, which meant the shutters should be open and the door closed.
    When I’d finally completed the task of unjamming catches and getting hinges oiled, it was quite late in the afternoon. For a while I considered not going to Simon Painter’s to collect the basket until next morning, but in the end I decided a stroll would be a good idea. There was a gentle breeze blowing throughout the house, not a speck of sand anywhere, and Mary Petrie was busy arranging her vases of dried grass. With a general feeling of well-being I set off on my short journey.
    In former times, when I approached Simon Painter’s place the first thing I would see would be his captive balloon, followed soon afterwards by the flagpole, the chimney and then the upper part of his roof. These I would register in a casual way as I drew nearer. More recently I had become accustomed to finding a depleted pile of tin waiting for me. Today I expected to see only a basket containing an empty flask. I was surprised, therefore, when I suddenly noticed that there were three people standing where the house used to be.
    For a moment I hesitated in my step, thinking it was Simon, Steve and Philip. They were still a good distance away, but I could tell from their movements that they’d already seen me coming. For this reason I felt I had no choice but to continue towards them. It was only then that I saw it was three women. They were all looking at me as I walked up, so I adopted a proprietorial air and headed directly for the basket, which had been placed on the ground nearby.
    ‘Do you want something?’ one of them asked, as I picked it up.
    ‘I’ve just come to collect this,’ I replied. ‘I brought it here earlier for some friends of mine.’
    ‘But now you’re taking it away.’
    ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s empty. Well, it’s not actually empty, but it’s got an empty flask inside.’
    ‘Where are these friends then?’
    ‘They were moving the house that used to be here. They’ve gone now.’
    It seemed wrong having to explain myself to these three women. After all, they were the strangers, not me. The one who was asking all the questions seemed especially hostile, so I was relieved when another one spoke in a friendlier tone.
    ‘Oh well,’ she said. ‘I expect you’ve got as much right to be here as we have.’
    Thanks,’ I heard myself say. The three of them seemed to relax slightly, so I carried on the conversation by pointing to the rectangular mark on the ground. ‘The house was right here. It was built entirely from tin.’
    ‘So why has the owner moved?’ asked the third woman.
    ‘He fancied a change, that’s all.’
    They glanced at each other, and the second one even managed a smile.
    ‘Good place to live, is it?’ she enquired.
    ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Great.’
    ‘Cos we’re looking for somewhere.’
    ‘Oh, right. Well, you won’t find anywhere better than this.’
    I then explained in length about how the house had faced west-south-west, which is where the prevailing wind came from, and how I lived about three miles away in one direction, while there were also a couple of other people living further towards the west. Meanwhile they all stood around, gazing at