It all started at the garden centre.

Betty's Garden Emporium to be exact. Now, a quiet, Cornish garden centre filled with pensioners and tacky water features isn't exactly the most magical place to begin a story, but it's where mine unfortunately began.

"Look darling! Half price Tulip bulbs!" Mum called over to me, pointing frantically at a basket of soil-covered flower bulbs. I glanced up from my book and flashed her the fakest smile I could muster.

"Wow mum, I can hardly bear the excitement! Next you'll be telling me there's twenty-five per cent off garden gnomes." Mum's forehead furrowed in anger.

"I've had quite enough of your attitude for one day, can't you at least pretend to look happy for Ivy's sake?" Ivy was my dad's mother, otherwise known as my barmy Grandmother, crazier than Britney Spears after a couple of double vodkas.

"You try looking happy when instead of living it up in Barcelona, you're sent to bloody Cornwall to spend the Summer with a welly-wearing fruitcake!" You may think I'm being overly harsh, but after saving-up a year's worth of the money I made from my part-time job at the local supermarket, I finally had made enough for a Summer of partying Español style. Sadly for me, my parents had other ideas. At sixteen and three quarters they weren't convinced I was old enough to holiday unaccompanied and so decided to pack me off to the south of England, whilst they enjoyed a six week cruise in the Caribbean. Alright for some, eh?

"Flick! Don't ever call your Grandmother a fruitcake!" I rolled my eyes and turned back to my book. That was a cheek coming from her! She had never gotten on with Gran, my Mother of all people should understand why the prospect of spending my school holidays with Ivy Winters was so unappealing. I wasn't even sure Gran liked me, she usually spent the time we were together barking orders at me, making vicious digs at my taste in clothing and forcing me to bake scones. Not really my idea of fun.

"I'm sorry." I muttered, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "I'm going for a walk." I leapt up from the wooden bench I had been lying on and made a break for the pottery section before Mommy Dearest could give me another of her legendary lectures on minding my manners. It was only a matter of hours before I was dumped at Ivy's cottage in the middle of nowhere, Mum had stopped at the garden centre to try and pick her up a last minute present as she knew Gran was a keen gardener. Tucking my paperback in my pocket, I wandered around a jumble of terracotta pots until I came out from the glass building and onto a little pebble-marked pathway. The sun beamed cheerily down on the assortment of trees and flowers on display outside, forcing me to slip my aviators off my head and onto my nose. It was a beautiful day, shame I was about to be imprisoned with Cruella De Ville for the rest of the holidays. Strolling onwards I stopped in front of a pastel-pink sign.

Betty's Crazy Maze

Since Betty was the perfumed fossil that had greeted us at the entrance, I was having trouble believing that her maze would live up to it's intriguing name. Looking up, I saw tall fir trees grown together to create the so-called 'Crazy Maze'. I shrugged to myself and stepped through the entrance, maybe if I was lucky I would get lost and not have to go to Gran's house? After about twenty minutes I began to feel slightly disorientated, who could of thought Betty's maze was actually this hard? I chuckled to myself and shook my head, if I ever got out of here I would totally have to congratulate Betty on her supreme labyrinth-making skills. Lost in thought, I turned a corner and walked straight into something that wasn't a hedge.

"Oh sorry, I wasn't looking where I was…" I halted abruptly when I saw who it was. It the maze-master herself! "Hey! I'm loving your maze and all, but you don't think you could show me the way out, do you?" The old-woman stared at me, an eerie smile plastered across her face.

"Why of course dear, just follow me." Despite the fact she was grinning like a wrinkly version of the Cheshire cat, I dutifully followed behind her. After another twenty minutes, I began to wonder if even Betty knew her way out of the maze?

"Excuse me Mrs…Eh…Betty? I'm not being rude or anything but you do know how to get out, right?" The old woman stopped abruptly and muttered to herself.

"Here we are, his highness is going to be just delighted." I raised my eyebrow. Was it just me, or was this woman a few sequins short of a purse? Betty pointed down at the grass-covered ground.

"Well, Felicity dear, here's where we say goodbye." Wait, how did the wacko garden centre lady know my name? Also nobody ever called me 'Felicity', not even my Gran.

"Right, well I think I'm just going to find my own way out thanks," I laughed nervously, jabbing my thumb in the opposite direction. "Seeya later." As I turned to leave, Betty grabbed my wrist, her freakishly sharp nails digging into my skin.

"No, no dearie, you're not going anywhere." I tried to pull my arm away, but to no avail.

"Let go of me!" I shouted out, genuinely shocked at how strong this frail-looking lady actually was.

"Get your filthy claws off her!" Betty's grip didn't even slacken for a second, as her bloodshot eyes darted about in search of the mysterious voice's owner. "If that's the way you want to play it…" Seemingly out of nowhere, a blue mosaic plant pot flew down and landed directly on top of Betty's head, knocking her to the ground instantly. As she lay there groaning, I hastily backed away and caught sight of my pot-slinging saviour. Sitting jauntily on top of a nearby tree was a silver-haired youth, his lips curled up slightly when he noticed me staring. "Just a hint, never trust old women who hang around in mazes."


Yes it's rather silly...R&R would be very much appreciated :)

More 2moz xxx