Precious

Molly was always losing things,be it jumpers, books, money or once even, her own lunch. It didn’t matter that nametags were painstakingly stitched into items of clothing; they would still disappear with alarming regularity. Her mother despaired, "St Anthony," she’d decry, then recite her mantra, "St Anthony, St Anthony please look around, something’s lost and must be found." Sometimes the patient saint took pity and roused himself from his other duties to join in the search, but most times even he gave up on Molly. Their neighbour Heather Halliday shook her head in dismay on hearing Molly’s mother shouting at her to look harder for another seemingly poltergeist - snatched article; Later that evening she knocked on Molly’s door.

“Here you are dear, I do hope this helps.”
Heather presented Molly with a gold plated pen, Molly held it in her palm, and saw the words – Molly Rowe, 123 Glendale Rd, Picton, dancing along the pen in a heavenly font.

“Oh!” exclaimed her mother, “What a lovely thought, Molly…what do you say?”

Though Molly treasured her brand new pen, its very existence terrified her. What if she lost it? What would Miss Halliday say? Her mother would go mad. She didn't dare take it to school so she left it on her desk, inside an old show box that doubled as a stationary drawer.

Whenever Molly saw her neighbour she’d smile and Heather would ask after the pen.
“Still got it I hope, you’d be very careless to lose it now wouldn’t you?”

Once when Miss Halliday popped over to borrow a gardening tool she cornered Molly in the hallway.

“How’s the pen?”
“Fine.”
“Can I see it?”
Molly must have looked worried, despite the fact she knew exactly where the wretched pen was, and Miss Halliday obviously wasn't convinced of the pen's continued presence either and even asked her mother for reassurance that she still had it.

"Of course, Miss Halliday, she guards it with her life." Molly was made to go upstairs immediately and bring down the pen, which she did unquestioningly. Heather smiled and muttered, "Good."

She first noticed it was missing the day after her cousin Amber had visited.
“No,” said Amber, “Never touched it.”

She didn't dare tell her mother, she begged St Anthony to get off his arse and look around, but to her disappointment, he had other plans.

Every time Molly saw Heather she panicked, when Heather smiled at her, Molly looked away, her guilt clearly visible.

A week passed and no amount of searching then looking again in all the same places produced the pen. The doorbell rang, and to her horror she heard Miss Halliday’s voice.
“I’ll put the kettle on,” her mother chirped.

Molly stayed in her room, her heartbeat seeming louder with every moment. “Don’t come in, don’t come in” she whispered over and over, but the footsteps grew nearer.

Knock, knock.

Molly froze, was there time to hide, no, her door slowly opened.

“Hello Molly dear, “

Molly looked up, her eyes meeting her tormentor head on.

“Are you alright dear?”

Molly nodded unconvincingly.

“Doing your homework?”

Molly shook her head.

“No, I don’t suspect you can be.”

“What?”

Heather shut the door gently behind her and slowly approached Molly.

“It must be very difficult writing without a pen.”

Molly’s breathing quickened as Heather shot her a look of disgust.


But before she could confess, Heather handed her the gold pen, complete with engraving.

"It was in your front garden dear, you must have dropped it on your way to school, tut, tut."

Now the pen stays under lock and key in a safety box bought by her father, of all the things she’d lost the worst would be to lose Heather Halliday’s respect.