Ruth Writes

It catches my eye straight away. I do a double take, not entirely believing what I am seeing, and put a hand on Lou’s arm to stop her in her tracks. We pick our way through the trees, stepping over their gnarled roots waiting to catch our ankles. Lou, so enchanted by the view, bumps into me as I stop short. My mind reels. It can’t make sense of what this is, and an uneasiness settles in the bottom of my stomach. Settled in amongst the trees, there is a table and two chairs. The chairs are spray-painted golden with flat white cushions tied to their seats. The table is set with a crisp white tablecloth, decked out with two placements with everything you’d need for afternoon tea; cups, saucers, plates, a cake stand. There are no food or drinks in sight.

Transfixed by the unusual sight, it takes us both a second to tear our eyes away to look around. The woods are empty; not many people tend to wander off the trail. It’s eerily still in here. Out on the trail there had been a cool breeze but in here, surrounded by the trees, the air appears to be frozen, time seems to stand still. Any birds or traffic or voices have been silenced by the trees towering above and around us. A shiver runs through me. More intrigued than scared, we move closer to the table to have a better look, see if there is evidence of something. I’m not sure what but just something to help explain this oddity that doesn’t belong here.

On closer inspection, there is something else on the table I didn’t notice before. Two cream envelopes sit atop both plates. My heart hops up into my throat as my stomach twists. Written in neat, block capitals on one of the envelopes, underlined in deep red ink, is my name. My mouth opens in a quiet gasp. My eyes fly up to Lou standing opposite me, the other envelope in her hand, showing me her name in the same blood red ink.

‘What the hell is this?’ I whisper. Lou shrugs, her eyes wide with fright. Her mouth moves but I can’t hear her because my heart is thumping loudly in my ears. I still haven’t picked mine up, but Lou has already started to open hers.

‘Wait! You’ve no idea what it could be.’

‘That’s why I need to open it. C’mon, Jen, two envelopes addressed to us on a randomly set table in the middle of the woods, don’t you want to know what they say?’

I look down at my envelope. I don’t know if I want to know. This is all too weird and my whole body is screaming at me to run away. I hear Lou’s envelope ripping and despite my body’s protests, I grab mine and tear it open. Inside is a matching cream piece of card. In the same red ink it reads, ‘Take a seat.’