Episode 4 - The History of Brandon Gold

Wendy Gold watched her two young daughters playing on the roundabout. They were so sweet-natured, so innocent. "I wonder how Brandon is?" she said. "I do miss him, Richard. Richard?"
"Er - yes. I miss him too," her husband agreed quickly. "Of course. I mean, he is my son. But Granny Gold's is the best place for him at the moment. We just couldn't put up with the way things were, Wendy. And besides, he and your mother seem to have some sort of bond. She's never bothered with the other three, that's for sure."
"But were things really that bad, dear? I'm sure he thinks we sent him away because of his hair." Wendy patted her own dark locks, tucked beneath the sun visor she always wore. (She had once dated a professional tennis player, and she liked the look.) Her husband was strawberry blond and all their children were a bright, vibrant auburn. All of them, that is, except Brandon. He was dark and curly-haired, a bit like the professional tennis player. Which was odd, as she hadn't seen Goran for years, apart from that one time where she had run into him at the Holiday Inn Express fifteen years ago.
"His hair?" repeated Richard. "But that's ridiculous. Doesn't he realise what he did to the girls was serious?"
Amy and Abigail shrieked with laughter on the roundabout. They seemed so much more relaxed and happy these days, Wendy mused.
"They were just larking about like children do," she said.
"Larking about?" exclaimed Richard. "Brandon trapped them under the see-saw and then took photographic evidence - look!" He produced a photo from his wallet.
"But the girls are smiling!" said Wendy uncertainly.
"They're grimacing with pain. And this one. He pushed a tree down on to them!"
"He told me they were playing a nice game of Murder in the Woods," said Wendy.
"Oh, wake up, Wendy," Richard said angrily. "There's something wrong with that boy."
"You're telling me," said a voice. The Golds' eldest daughter rolled her wheelchair up beside her mother.
"What do you mean, Anita?" said Wendy.
Anita glanced at her legs and sighed. "Nothing, Mum. Nothing at all."

Episode 3 - Granny Gold's Evil Plan

"Brandon! Brandon!" screeched Granny Gold.
"What is it now?" mumbled Brandon.
"I need you. Come here when I order you."
Brandon reluctantly left the blackboard he had been defacing and sloped over to Granny Gold. It was quite difficult to slope as he had a football permanently attached to the bottom of his right trainer, but being a disaffected teenager he did his best.
"What is it, Granny?"
"Someone has moved into the house," Granny Gold said. She looked at her grandson with great significance, but he failed to respond. She took a sip from the teacup she habitually clutched to her chest. "A family called the Plastics," she added with disdain.
"What's that got to do with me?" Brandon moaned.
Granny Gold shook her head in disgust. "Do you think it's fair, Brandon Gold, that we should all have to take turns sleeping in this pitifully small schoolhouse, not to mention that disgusting vet's place - we, who have lived in Plastic St all our lives - while they move straight into the big house?"
Brandon's face changed. "That's not fair!"
"They have a fitted kitchen!" Granny Gold paused to let the words sink in. "And a toilet," she added. Brandon still did not look outraged enough. "They have a TELEVISION!" she hissed.
Brandon's eyes widened. His hands clenched.
"Yes," Granny Gold nodded. "That's how I feel, and if everyone else is in their right mind - and I'm not speaking for the vet - they'll think the same. Now, I want you to go and spy on them."
"Spy, Granny?"
"I mean, make friends. Find out how they got that house. Worm your way in. Like a maggot."
Brandon understood. A smile spread across his face. "Yes, Granny."
"They have two children. They look... pathetic."
Brandon moved a hand self consciously to his head. "We can't all help how we look, Granny."
"You're not still upset about not being ginger enough?" Granny said, peering at him suspiciously through her yellow half-moon spectacles. She didn't like to see any signs of weakness in her favourite grandchild. "I'm sure that's not the reason why your parents asked if you could stay with us."
"Stay with you? Live with you, more like. Just because I don't have ginger hair like the rest of them. Well, I hate them all!" Brandon shouted, trying to stamp his foot and failing.
Granny Gold's face softened, like a candle in the shape of an ugly old woman that has slightly melted. "There, there. I'm proud of you. Hate is a positive thing, you know. I didn't get where I am today by liking everyone, did I?" She patted Brandon on the cheek. "Now, off you go. And if everything goes according to plan, the Plastic family will be so desperate to leave they'll be begging us to take the house from them!"
She tipped her head back for a burst of evil laughter, but stopped as her tea was beginning to slop over the edges of its orange plastic cup. And she was a little worried she might wet herself.

Episode 2 - Getting to Know You

"Cooeee! Hello, anybody at home? I'm Joss, live next door. Thought you might want some help unpacking."
"Oh, er, I think we're nearly there, but come in." Ray put down his box of train magazines and opened the door. A middle aged woman with dark curly hair and a bright pink scarf around her neck pushed past him.
"So this is it," she said, gazing around. "The house."
"Yes it's... ours," Ray answered uncertainly. "Would you like a cup of -"
"How on earth did you manage it?" Joss began to poke around the kitchen. "Fully fitted. Nice."
"I'm Ray and this is my wife, Mary," Ray said, politely ignoring the fact that Joss was trying to open the kitchen drawers.
Mary stood up, one hand resting on her stomach. "A neighbour? How lovely. I feel like I've always known you, Joss."
Joss looked Mary up and down. "So that's why you got the house. Things are changing for you."
"Yes, I hope so," said Ray.
"I won't hold it against you." Joss gave Mary a hug. She stood back, surveying her. "I've just had the most fabulous idea! You must join our girl group. Well, lady group. We're all ladies of a certain age. We call ourselves Uterus."
"Er, I think that would be a bit difficult," Ray said quickly. "Mary's nearly due, you see, and -"
"That sounds absolutely delightful," said Mary.
"We rehearse every Wednesday evening at the school," Joss continued. "My sister Wendy is lead vocal and Trisha and I are backing singers. Trisha's leaving so there's a vacancy. We're taking part in Battle of the Bands next month. It's between us and Gore Hell Vandals but I think we capture the zeitgiest. Anyway, can't stop - I'll have that cup of tea another time, Ray!"
"Good," said Ray, who was having trouble opening the fridge.
Tom and Sara climbed down from the bedroom and stood shly looking at Joss.
"These must be yours," said Joss, as though she had just picked up something they had dropped. She looked critically at the children. "They'll fit perfectly into Plastic St."
Tom held a red plastic train close to his chest, while Sara cuddled her toy mouse.
"How old are they? I've got a nephew a little older than the boy," Joss said, eyeing the train.
"He must be..." Ray counted in his head. "Fifteen," he said finally. It didn't seem possible. The children had always been... well, just children. And Tom had always carried that train. It was almost part of him.
Joss was looking at Tom in disbelief.
"They're... slow developers," Ray said quickly. "Give me the train, Tom." He tried to wrench the toy out of Tom's hands.
"Waaaahh!" Tom burst into tears and ran to Mary.
"Well, I was going to suggest he might like to play drums for Gore Hell Vandals with Brandon, but perhaps not," said Joss, raising her eyebrows.

Episode 1 - Moving Day

"The house," Mary whispered, "is perfect."
Ray hoisted up his box of model train magazines. He looked up at the bright red plastic facade. "Yep, it's er..."
"It's home," breathed Mary.
Ray looked at Mary sceptically. The square house with its bright blue roof, matching door and unconvincing faux flowers did nothing for him, but then he wasn't pregnant. Mary was. In fact, she had always been pregnant, as long as he had known her. They had also always had two children, a boy, Tom, and a girl, Sara. It was just the way things were. Pretty odd, really, when he came to think about it.
"What's the matter?" asked Mary.
Ray pulled himself together. "Nothing. I'm just not used to change, that's all."
"Change? It feels like we've always lived here. Don't you feel it?" Mary gazed up at the house again with such adoration that Ray felt he had to do something. He pulled her to him but she looked down modestly and he could only manage to peck her on the cheek.
Ray sighed. He wondered how on earth he had got Mary pregnant in the first place. Oh well, at least he had his model train magazines. He would have a rummage through them later.
He watched Mary squeeze through the door (how many months was she? six? seven?) and dumped his box on the nearest chair. The only chair. God, this place was small.
"Oh, I'm exhausted," puffed Mary. "Do you mind if I...?"
Ray removed the box. "Of course. You are pregnant, after all." He bent down closer to her. "You are, aren't you? I mean, it's not my imagination or anything?"
Mary smiled benignly. "Are you worried about having this baby, hun?"
"Why, are you? Does that mean it's coming?"
"Of course I'm not worried! We have a beautiful life, two beautiful children, and now this beautiful house. What do I have to worry about?"
"But the baby..."
"Relax. Go and check on the kids."
"There's a hospital near here, I saw it on the way. We could take you for a scan, making sure you're really... I mean, make sure everything's all right."
Mary patted her stomach. It was straining through her dress like a ripe apple. "Everything's always all right, isn't it?" she said.
For once Ray couldn't answer. It was this place, it had unsettled him. He had always accepted everything as easily as Mary appeared to. But this move was different. It was change. Perhaps he was changing too. That would be odd, as he hadn't aged since... well, since he could remember.
"You're right. There's no point fretting about things. I'll check on the kids."
Mary nodded and turned on the television. It was the same newsflash he had seen all week. He shook his head to clear it and walked through to the back of the house. There was no back wall and he had to climb up the side to get upstairs.
"Kids?" he called, blinking at the brightness of the electric green bed and pink bedside chest assaulting his eyes. "Is this how you got upstairs, too?"
Tom and Sara walked out of the worryingly open-plan bathroom. "Of course, Dad. That's how we've always gone upstairs, remember?"
Ray gazed over the edge, feeling a sudden swoop of vertigo. "Right..."