A Place Called Perfect Read online

  “Don’t worry about me,” he replied, tripping over Violet who was now crawling across the carpet.

  “Oh what a good idea pet!” he said, easing gently onto his knees, “Now I’ll be back soon with help, trust me.”

  Violet heard her father crawl baby like across the room and out into the hall. She didn’t want to trust him. He didn’t deserve her trust. This was all his fault.

  “Ow,” she cried, banging into the side of her parent’s bed.

  “You okay pet?” her mother called from above.

  Violet rubbed her forehead searching for blood but felt nothing watery.

  “Ya I think so,” she said, crawling in beside her Mam.

  The mattress on her side was still warm and smelt like her dad, it made her angry.

  “Good morning!” a voice called from outside her parent’s window, “it’s a glorious day family Brown.”

  “Mam, there’s someone outside.”

  “I know pet, stay here,” her mother whispered, then disappeared from her spot.

  Violet heard her stumble across the room, then the window squeaked and cold air tickled her toes. She pulled them up and wrapped the duvet tighter to block all air holes.

  “Hello?” her mother called.

  “Oh good morning Mrs. Brown, I just stopped by to see how your first day is going and to offer Eugene a lift to work.”

  “Oh Mr. Archer,” her mother gasped, “what a god send you are. I’m afraid we have all woken up a little worse for wear. The effects of the sun have come on sooner than expected.”

  “Oh no,” Mr. Archer replied, “that’s a pity. You won’t get to see our beautiful town through your naked eyes. Oh well, sometimes it happens that way. Not to worry stay put and I will take it from here. We’ll have you back to normal in no time.”

  In a few minutes Mr. Edward Archer, Violet knew it was him because he was the same height as her, had led them from the room into the back of his car.

  “Now onto our spectacle makers emporium,” he called, as the engine whistled into life.

  Violet always thought a spectacle was when she was doing something wrong, her mother regularly told her ‘to stop making a spectacle of herself’, now she knew it meant glasses. Emporium was more difficult but she had a feeling it was a posh word for shop. The Archers seemed to like posh words.

  As Mr. Edward Archer led her by the arm slowly down the stone path towards his shop, Violet decided she never wanted to be blind again. She liked her sight, already she really missed colour, everything in her new world was black and fuzzy. She wished for some orange or purple or even some grey though that wasn’t really a colour.

  “Mind the steps now Violet,” Mr. Edward Archer said.

  Suddenly the black got blacker and she stumbled backwards.

  “Oh don’t worry Violet dear, we’re just coming inside, the light will change a little,” Edward Archer laughed.

  Violet smiled to be polite but inside she was fuming, she was blind and he was laughing. She’d half decided already but his laugh made it a fact, she hated Edward Archer.

  “Now I’m just going to lower you into this chair,” he said, grabbing her hands.

  Violet did as she was told and winced as the cold leather touched her bare legs, she was still wearing her short pyjamas, the furry love hearted pair. She blushed as she pictured the pink and red pattern. She’d told her mam she was getting too old for love hearts but parents never listened.

  “I’m just going to get your mother and father dear,” Edward Archer called, his footsteps fading into the distance.

  Silence filled the shop.

  A lot of the time Violet liked silence, but not this time. Blindness turned silence scary. She pushed her hands in under her thighs, swung her legs and tried to remember a happy song. Something rustled nearby. She turned quickly. Suddenly someone blew in her ear and laughed. It was the same laugh, the one she had heard the night before.

  She gasped, “Who’s there?”

  “Hey you!” a voice shouted.

  Her chair was knocked sideways and she hit her head. Footsteps raced through the shop and glass smashed behind her.

  “Who’s there?” she cried, grabbing the chair arms.

  “Violet dear, what are you doing here?”

  It was a voice she recognised.

  “There was somebody here, there was a fight.”

  “Really?” Mr. George Archer replied sounding worried, “Did you see them dear? What did they look like?”

  “No,” Violet said quickly, “I’m blind but I heard them. One of them blew in my ear!”

  “Ah,” George Archer laughed, “Losing ones sight can play havoc with ones hearing.”

  “No there really was someone here, I swear,” Violet protested.

  “No there wasn’t Violet,” George Archer snapped.

  She was about to argue when she heard her parents shuffle into the room.

  “Mam, Dad is that you?” she said leaning out of her chair.

  Someone grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back.

  “Lots of glass to be broken here Violet,” George Archer snarled.

  “Violet don’t worry we’re here pet,” her Dad soothed, he sounded nearby.

  She wanted to reply but couldn’t, she was still angry with him.

  “Now you’re first Violet,” Edward Archer said, “I do hope these fit. If not we can adjust them, you have a rather large head for someone so young.”

  Violet winced as glasses were shoved onto the bridge of her nose. Then hands cupped either side of her face and adjusted the frames.

  “Now,” Edward Archer said, “Open your eyes dear and tell us what you see.”

  Violet held her breath afraid she might still be blind and slowly opened her eyes. She gasped as colour filled her vision. Rich browns from the dark wood that panelled the shop walls, deep red from the luxurious carpet at her feet and bright gold from the spectacles resting inside sparkling glass cabinets. It was the poshest place she’d ever seen.

  “Is there something wrong?” Edward Archer asked.

  “No,” Violet stammered, “it’s just I’ve never been in a place like this before, it’s amazing!”

  Pride passed between the brothers.

  “We try our best,” Edward replied.

  As the Archers moved onto her parents, Violet took her chance to explore. Everything in the shop was shiny, even the gold handles on the cabinet doors shone. The room she was in was at least her Dad and a half high and glass cabinets filled the shop from floor to ceiling. A huge wooden ladder on wheels rested against one of the walls and George Archer was just stepping off it with a pair of specs in hand.

  “For your mother,” he smiled pushing past.

  Violet moved away from her parents, slipping in round the back of the chair she’d been sitting on. A thin thread of light leaked through a gap in the wood panel in front of her. Gently she pushed on the wall and it gave way revealing an entrance into a room behind.

  The room was stacked floor to ceiling with books. The books were old, their worn covers battered and bruised. They were the type of dusty books her mother hated but her father loved. She pulled one out, An Optical Illusion, then another Blind Mans Bluff and another Seeing Things. She scanned the shelves and noticed all the books were the same, they were all about eyes. She was going to pick up another when she heard a voice.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  She turned quickly and looked straight into the face of Mr. George Archer who was on his knees.

  “Perfect kids must act perfectly!” he scowled.

  Violet froze.

  “There you are George,” Edward Archer said, peeping through the door, “I see you found Violet. We were worried dear.”

  Saved by the interruption, Violet raced past Edward Archer to the safety of her parents.

  There was something different about the Archers as Violet studied them from behind her mother’s chair. Edward the smaller of the two somehow wasn’t so small
and his head not so large. His eyes weren’t bulging and his teeth were somehow straighter. George too had changed, he didn’t look so tall, his eyes fitted his face and his arms and legs weren’t so spindly. He even stood tall without bending his head which was very strange. The changes were small but added together they meant the Archers weren’t as ugly as Violet remembered. You might even say they looked nice. It didn’t mean she was starting to like them; there was still something strange about the pair, she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

  She looked at her parents who now both wore glasses. Her mother was lovely even with the frames but she had always been beautiful and Violet hoped someday she’d be compared to her mother. Her father too looked handsome, he even had more hair. They were the perfect couple and Violet couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before.

  “Violet,” her mother said, “those glasses really suit you. You look beautiful!”

  She returned her mother’s smile, Perfect was sending them all a little mushy. She was even thinking about giving the place a chance, fighting it just felt like hard work. For today, just for today, she’d give in to Perfect.

  CHAPTER 4

  First Sons of Perfect

  The Archers, because of what happened, gave her Dad the day off. So, after a quick visit home to change out of their pyjamas, it was decided the family would head into the town and have a look around.

  The best way to see Perfect was on foot Edward Archer said. So they left their house and followed the directions into town. Violet couldn’t believe how quickly she’d gotten used to wearing her glasses as if they’d been stuck on her face forever. Everything was crystal clear and, she had to admit, kinda nice.

  The road into town was tree lined. The trees were exactly the same distance apart, Violet measured them by counting her footsteps. Every sixty steps there was a tree, except when there was a bench, which happened every one hundred and eighty steps or three trees apart. The sun was shining and the sky, a bright blue, was filled with candyfloss clouds. Everything was neat and tidy. Wild flowers grew in neat bunches and there wasn’t bird poo anywhere though the trees were full of birds. They probably had their own toilet Violet laughed running ahead of her parents. As the family turned a corner about half a mile from their house, the town came into view. Violet stopped.

  It was like something from a fairytale. The streets were narrow and cobbled just like the path that led to the Archers shop. The buildings were white and wooden beams ran this way and that across their fronts. They were all sorts of shapes and sizes, some tall and narrow, some squatty and broad. Each one leaned over a little sheltering the roadways below. It made Perfect look cosy. The town was the prettiest Violet had ever seen. She was afraid she was starting to like the place.

  Everybody they passed in the town smiled at the new arrivals as if they were locals. Some even greeted them by name.

  “It’s a small town dear, something we’ll have to get used to,” her father said, when her mother questioned the friendliness of the locals.

  “Oh I think I’m used to it already Eugene. This place feels like home, it’s what we’ve been searching for. I’m so glad you brought us here.”

  What? Her now gushing mother had hated the thoughts of the move. She’d said loads of times that she was only doing it for the sake of her husband. Her change of heart was quick.

  “I think I could live here forever,” her mother smiled, grabbing her husband’s hand.

  Her Dad beamed and kissed his wife’s forehead.

  “What about you Violet?” he asked.

  “It’s alright.”

  She didn’t want to give in, even answering her Dad was a big step. She’d leave the gooey stuff to her mother. Anyway she hadn’t made up her mind about Perfect yet.

  As they walked through the town she began to notice some strange things. The streets were perfectly clean. She hadn’t seen any rubbish, not even a sweet wrapper but there were no bins anywhere. The people were all skinny, there wasn’t a fat one in sight and though they all looked different there was something similar about all of them. It was like a gloss or shine, somehow everyone glowed.

  “They’re healthy Violet,” her father said, “The Archers told me this is rated as the healthiest town in all the world.“

  Violet believed him, she hadn’t spotted a chippers anywhere and she loved fish and chips on a Sunday evening. She noted that down as another black mark against the town.

  As her parents were busy chatting she quietly slipped off the main road down one of the side alleys. She was dying to explore. Normally side roads were dirty and dark and she would never go down one alone but this town was different. She wasn’t scared at all as she walked the spotless alley.

  A plaque mounted on the wall of one of the houses caught her eye and she stopped to read it.

  Behold The Birth Place of Messrs George, Edward and William Archer, first sons of Perfect.

  It must be the Archers she knew, but she’d never heard of William. She moved closer for a look. Something about the house was not right. A hanging basket over the entrance was crooked and the faded blue paint on the door, worn and chipped. She peered through the murky glass window trying to ignore her mother’s warning voice in her head, ‘mind your own business Violet!’ She wouldn’t normally stare into someone else’s home, but by Perfect’s standards this house was derelict. Her nose had just touched the glass when a ghostly face zoomed forward from the darkness inside. She squealed, jumping back.

  An old woman stared out through the dirt. Skin sagged from her bones and whispy white hair fell from her balding scalp. Her mouth was gapped in blackened teeth.

  Violet tripped over a loose lace knocking off her glasses as she raced from the window. She fumbled onto her knees to search the cobblestone when laughter filled the laneway. The same laughter had followed her since her family’s arrival. She found the frames, shoved them quickly on, scrambled up and sprinted away from the house, not daring to look back.

  CHAPTER 5

  Dreams of Ghostly Boys

  After only two weeks in the new town, Summer was over. Violet didn’t like starting a new school or making new friends. She had tried to make some already but it didn’t work. She wasn’t like them, she didn’t have the shine every Perfect person had. The kids in the town were nice. They talked to her and some even asked if she wanted to play. That was it though, they were too nice.

  Her mother wouldn’t listen.

  “I’m sick of it Violet, too nice, what does that mean? You’ll really have to start making an effort here. You’re embarrassing me in front of all the other mums!”

  ‘Mums’, when did her Mam ever use a word like ‘Mums’?

  Violet’s Mam was never like her friends mothers. She didn’t bake, burnt every dinner she ever made and always wore odd socks. But in this town she was different.

  Everyday she got up early and made breakfast for the family.

  Once she’d said goodbye to Violet’s Dad and cleaned the house, she’d head out to meet her new friends, the ones whose children Violet had to pretend to like. Sometimes it was for bookclub, or cookery lessons or even golf. In her short time in Perfect Violet’s mam had become head of the town’s baking committee. Her mother was delighted, she smiled from ear to ear when she got the phonecall and baked cupcakes for the rest of the night. The cupcakes were nice but it was still a little odd. Her old mother was a terrible cook, hated golf and would laugh at the idea of bookclub. Now she was a “Perfectionist” and shone like everyone else.

  Her Dad had changed too but his change was different. He wasn’t shiny at all. He was dull, lifeless and always tired. Even his smile had faded. He looked older, in two weeks he’d put on five years. Violet had never seen him sad and felt partly to blame. She still wasn’t speaking to him. They used to talk about everything, but for the last twelve days and five hours she hadn’t said a word. In the beginning he tried to talk but by day four he’d given up too.

  The way her parents were aroun
d each other was also different. Before they were never apart, always hugging and kissing which was really embarrassing. Now Violet wanted to be embarrassed even just for a second. Her mother acted perfect and her Dad, who began to look like a homeless person, worked forever locked in his office. They didn’t talk like they used to.

  The night before school started Violet overheard her parents in the kitchen as she climbed the stairs to bed. Her father’s voice made her stop. He sounded worried.

  “Rose,” he sighed, “will you please put that away and sit down. I need to speak to you.”

  “Have a word from there,” her mother replied, “I’m almost finished this pastry. I can hear you perfectly from here.”

  “Rose. Please. Now,” her father almost shouted.

  Violet stiffened. She’d never heard her father that angry before.

  “Just a minute darling, I’m almost finished.”

  “I thought you hated cooking?” he snapped.

  “Oh no, what ever made you think that? I love it. Since I’ve moved here a whole new world has opened up.”

  “I’m worried about this place,” his voice softened.

  What was that darling?”

  A chair scraped the kitchen tiles then heavy footsteps headed across the kitchen. Violet froze.

  “Rose,” he father said, stopping in the doorway.

  “Yes darling?”

  “You know I love you, don’t you?” he sounded lonely.

  “Of course darling. Now do you want sprinkles on your buns or will I make icing? The ladies loved the icing last time round.”

  Her father didn’t reply. He left the kitchen and headed up the hall. As quietly as Violet could she climbed the stairs and jumped in under her duvet. A few minutes later her Dad’s figure appeared in the doorway.

  “Violet,” he whispered, “are you awake?”

  She pulled the covers tight, rolled over and pretended to sleep. Her father tiptoed across the floorboards and sat gently onto the edge of her bed. Violet’s heart beat faster. He rubbed her hair. She wanted to sit up and hug him, she knew he was sad but she couldn’t. He had gotten them into this mess.