'Friday the 14th'- An Only Fools and Horses Episode Review (from 2013)

In terms of overall consistency, I consider Only Fools and Horses' third series to be the single greatest series of the programme rivalled only by its sixth series, however the two series have so many differences between them that it is almost impossible to compare. While series six lounged comfortably within one of the show's many peaks, series three had something to prove; it pretty much had to consolidate the programme to the masses after the slow start of the first series and the sudden interest in the second series. Fortunately, writer John Sullivan was more than able to tackle the issue in providing the fans with the best episodes, some of the most quotable of the show's jokes and one-liners as well as cementing the Trotters' hold of Peckham. The one abnormality of this collection of episodes was the third episode, 'Friday the 14^th' (1983), which shows Sullivan's first foray into experimenting with his formula. For the majority of the five, half-hour length series, Sullivan stuck to the show's main premise, that of three people trying to become millionaires eventually becoming more liberal and expansive with it as the show evolved. 'Friday the 14^th' is one of the first episodes that shies away from the established rules; the only real goal the Trotters have in this episode is to survive. Indeed, the show's concept of Del getting rich by fishing salmon from a stream by Boycie's weekend cottage in Cornwall is a MacGuffin; Sullivan wanted to portray the Trotters as fish out of water and what better way to do that than isolate them in a cabin in the middle of the woods with a crazed axe murderer trying to kill them? 'Friday the 14^th' moved from the established template, threw the Trotters out of the comfort of Nelson Mandela House, and straight into a dangerous unknown.

In spite of it being a sitcom episode, there are a lot of cinematic flourishes courtesy of Sullivan's script and Ray Butt's direction that borrow from the conventions of film noir, thriller and horror films. Sullivan takes these conventions that are deliberately clichéd, such as a thunderstorm, power outage, heavy breathing, a mysterious hand through the undergrowth and shadowy figures to create a truly suspenseful experience; I admit that during my first viewing of this episode around ten years ago, I was watching through the cracks of my fingers, my insular mind pondering whether or not the writer was going to kill off the Trotters. These ambitious ideas were aided by the location filming in Iwerne Minster, Dorset. In one of my favourite images from the entire series, the sight of an abandoned cottage amidst a heavy thunderstorm can make one forget that they are watching a comedy- until the three-wheeled van hobbles its way onto the screen like the anachronistic sight of a car in the distance of a Lord of the Rings shot and the unlikeliest of heroes emerge from it. The cottage set is also well designed making it especially claustrophobic for the climax as well as dangerous with the incessant claps of thunder and flashes of lightning in the background.

Of course, it wouldn't be an Only Fools and Horses episode without comedy and 'Friday the 14^th' has this in abundance. Ironically, one of my favourite scenes is the one where the van is stopped by a policeman who warns them of an escaped axe murderer. Despite it being expository, the facial expressions of the Trotter trio are priceless; Rodney and Grandad display pure terror while Del is simply dumbfounded, inconvenienced that his money-making weekend has hit a snag. The scene where the Trotters first arrive at the cottage is also Only Fools at its best with Sullivan's one-liners delivered perfectly by David Jason, Nicholas Lyndhurst and Lennard Pearce, cementing this threesome as my favourite in the show's history. The three have a perfect sync with each other and never miss a beat; indeed, my favourite lines in the episode are made even funnier because they flow impeccably between the three actors:

Rodney: Oh, he's most probably half-way to London by now.

Del: Yeah, of course he is. He's most probably looking for an empty place up there.

Grandad: Hope he don't find our flat.

Del: Will you shut up?!

The Monopoly scene is a welcome break from the tension. It's novel to see the Trotters talk about something other than money or girls while the thunderstorm still exists in the distance reminding us that although they're playing a 'safe' board game, they are anything but safe. Perhaps as a foreshadow to the climax, Del still adopts his business prattle when conning Rodney out of Monopoly money for putting him in the 'penthouse suite' of his fictional hotel, showing that he is always thinking about money, even in a friendly game. This scene also unearths some facets of Rodney's character: he's a sore loser who sulks like a petulant teenager when things don't go his way. Perhaps Rodney is still reeling from failing after the previous episode 'Healthy Competition' (1983) and still feels that he has to prove himself to Del and Grandad? Regardless of its purpose, this notion reminds one of Harold Steptoe; Rodney has to lose to Del like Harold has to to his father in order to maintain the sense of paralysis and stagnation that all good sitcoms try to instil on their characters: the young has to lose to the old and have to gain experience, but ultimately never muster enough to leave. It shows that Sullivan was not only inspired by films in 'Friday the 14^th', but also other sitcoms like Steptoe and Son. The scene culminates in probably the most famous moment in the episode: Rodney seeing 'the face in the window'. John Sullivan fans would recognise the man as Bill Ward; not Black Sabbath's drummer; but an actor who had appeared as a semi-regular as Reg the barman from Citizen Smith. His somewhat haggard looks are rather startling the first time, especially with the lightning flash emphasising his stern look as he stares at Rodney aimlessly, but the moment returns to comedy after Rodney pulls the curtain back sheepishly and is frozen by fear and disbelief. The moment is a perfect complement to the Monopoly scene because that is so light-hearted while the thought of a stranger nearby is so terrifying. Sullivan allows the drama in this episode to breathe because of the frequency of the comedy and the fact that he can change gears easily and combine them.

The axe murderer (or the 'Madman' as described in the cast list) is an interesting character because he is one of an exclusive club who manage to draw out fear from Del. Throughout the series, Del has been frightened of very few people; Tommy McKay (initially) in 'No Greater Love' (1982), The Driscoll Brothers in 'Little Problems (1989), Eugene McCarthy from 'Stage Fright' (1991) and, arguably, Roy Slater because of his tenacious and illegal efforts to imprison him in 'May the Force Be With You' (1983) and 'To Hull and Back' (1985) are the only few that spring to mind, however, as violent or manipulative as they may seem, they are only gangsters, thugs or bent coppers; the axe murderer, on the other hand, is worse than all of those because he is of course a killer, but he is also insane and unpredictable. He's raving mad of course, but he does speak some logic about how winning can leave one 'open to attack'. The only competition for the murderer would be the Occhetti family from 'Miami Twice' (1991) yet Del never confronts the Don directly nor does he engage with the Mafia after he knows the truth about them, so it makes Del's encounter with the axe murderer in 'Friday the 14^th' one of the more intense moments in the entire series. It is to Sullivan's credit that he can twist such a frightening situation into a classic comedy scene. Sullivan mainly kept the drama and comedy separate save for a few select moments, yet here he writes the scene as nail-biting but also very tongue in cheek. Lines like 'It's all right, it's Barratts!' diffuse the tension and make what could have been a hard to watch scene very watchable. Also amusing is Del's attitude to the whole situation. Del has shown to be streetwise, so this episode highlights how much of a survivor he is; his natural charisma persuades the murderer to give him his axe and he effectively stalls the murderer until the authorities arrive. The crafty facets of Del's personality come to the fore when he progresses from trying to save his life to his taking liberties with the murderer such as wagering on an invisible snooker game. This shows a kind of refuge for Del; he's in deadly danger yet he thinks about money and earning the upper hand. As Sullivan himself said: '...even in his hour of need in a terrifying situation, Del will still try to find a way of earning a fiver! He's in another part of the world, but Del Boy's still trying out his Peckham tricks.'

In closing, 'Friday the 14^th' is my favourite episode of Only Fools and Horses and one of my favourites of any sitcom because John Sullivan did something different and successfully married comedy and various forms of drama to create a perfect example of comedy-drama that films such as Scary Movie should watch and study. The fact that this episode runs at thirty minutes and is nigh on perfect is a testament to Sullivan's accomplished writing talents and his knowledge and faith in his characters. Taken out of Peckham for half an hour, they are allowed to grow a little more and indulge in behaviour they wouldn't normally have to. The joy of 'Friday the 14^th' is other than it being hilariously funny, the crew create an atmosphere that isn't found in any other episode of Only Fools and Horses making it totally unique. While 'Miami Twice' had a very similar premise, basically that the Trotters were under the mercy of killers, it has an entirely different mood, that of consciously being a film; while 'Friday the 14^th' has the quiet dignity of being a drama akin to an episode of Tales of the Unexpected except with far more laughs and this, to me at least, makes it more enjoyable to watch. Less is more after all. It is just the Only Fools episode to watch at Halloween or any Friday the 14^th that happens to be on the calender. It is just one of series three's many gems and a part of John Sullivan's attempts to experiment with mood for that particular year; 'Homesick' was a tearjerker, 'Healthy Competition' had a strong Steptoe and Son vibe, 'Yesterday Never Comes' was a caper, 'May the Force Be With You' was a parody of cop shows, 'Wanted' and 'Who's a Pretty Boy?' were simply laugh out loud funny and 'Thicker Than Water' started to retcon and shape the series' backstory. It was them and episodes like 'Friday the 14^th' that demonstrated that there was more to this series than met the eye and the belief that the series would have a bright future was more than a suggestion.

-John Sullivan quotations from issues 6 and 18 of The Only Fools and Horses DVD Collection.

'A Royal Flush' - An Only Fools and Horses Episode Review

The end of the fifth series of Only Fools and Horses was 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire?' (1986). One of the more dramatic episodes, it almost ended the series with Del leaving Peckham for a chance of a lifetime partnership in Australia. If the next episode 'A Royal Flush' (1986) was indicative of the show's quality after that episode, the proposed spin-off staring Rodney and Mickey Pearce, Hot Rod, sounds almost desirable. Thankfully, just as much as David Jason's opting to remain in Only Fools and Horses was a welcome relief, 'A Royal Flush' was just a misstep in the show's then flawless history and the show would regain its wings a year later with 'The Frog's Legacy' (1987); however this does not wash away the fact that 'A Royal Flush' was written, filmed, produced and aired. 'A Royal Flush' is the unloved child of Only Fools and Horses hated by its writer, John Sullivan and its two leads, David Jason and Nicholas Lyndhurst. It's also the least repeated episode of the sitcom, shown only on GOLD around Christmas time. But why is it hated? The premise, while atypical for the series at the time, owes many opportunities for laughs. Rodney befriends Victoria, the daughter of the Duke of Maylebury, due to their mutual love of art and naturally enough Del smells money and encourages Rodney to propose to her before interfering.

First of all, the positives. Like every other episode, 'A Royal Flush' has some funny one-liners. My favourite has to be Rodney reading a book of peers and Del notices the title as 'Burkes' and asks him if it's a teach yourself book. It also has some humorous scenes; the scene where Rodney fires a rifle at clay pigeons is sometimes classed as one of the funnier moments of the series as is his reaction when he sees the three-wheeled van appear suddenly at Maylebury's estate. The appearance of June from 'Happy Returns' (1985) was also a welcome piece of continuity for the series, making the universe of Only Fools and Horses seem more complete. I also must digress that the moment when Rodney breaks his hand at the end of the episode is actually a moment I still laugh out loud at, but this may be due to me hating the episode so much I never watch it so I forget the little moments that are done right.

The character of Vicky is also well-written. It was an inspired choice by Sullivan to make the upper-class character bored of her status; it contrasts well with the Trotters and their apathy with being at the bottom of the social ladder, and this decision forces her to have good chemistry with Rodney. They're both tired of their backgrounds and they share a symbiotic relationship: Rodney can learn about opera, game hunting and expand his knowledge of fine art, while Vicky can learn about women spitting, greasy spoons and market spiels. She is wonderfully portrayed by Sarah Duncan, and despite my opinions about the whole episode, I think Vicky is the woman most compatible with Rodney in the entire series, even beating Cassandra, and it is refreshing to see Rodney engaged in a romantic friendship as opposed to an intimate relationship as usual. Another thing that this episode excels at is adding another dimension to Rodney's character. Previous to this episode, Rodney claimed that he was sensitive, yet this was seldom seen outside of him mourning the latest ex-girlfriend that wasn't right for him. Here, however, we finally see a distraught Rodney, stripped of his pride in front of the highest company he would ever share. I like to think that the events of this episode are a by-product to the more mature Rodney that is seen from 'The Frog's Legacy' onwards; he wouldn't be able to trust Del as much as he had in the past in danger of him ending up in a similar situation. The final scene between Rodney and Vicky where Rodney suggests that he goes home and Vicky can't finish her sentence that their time together was nice is one of the most heart-rendering scenes in the entire sitcom. The two had a perfectly good friendship that was razed to the ground by the tyrant that is Del in this episode.

The character of Del is the main problem with 'A Royal Flush'. Simply put, he isn't Del, he's a cruel pastiche of the character that makes one doubt that the character seen in this episode was written by Sullivan, but by some over-zealous fan-fiction writer who had exaggerated every negative trait about Del: his greed and zest for money while suppressing his main attribute that he genuinely loves his family. The Del of 'A Royal Flush' will be termed hereafter as 'Evil Del' because evil is what he is throughout for reasons that will be explained throughout this essay. While the Del of every other episode isn't totally intelligent, he has common sense and tact; here he is a total buffoon that embarrasses not only his family, but his social class. To Sullivan's credit, the episode needs a villain, someone to snatch Rodney's dream away, but one would not expect it to be one of the show's principal characters. Granted, this episode isn't 'To Hull and Back' (1985) in which Slater is the villain of an international smuggling ring; it's a personal episode, more to do with emotion, so may be Evil Del's villainy in this episode is necessary. However, this tough love approach had been seen before in the show and had been portrayed better. In series 2's 'No Greater Love' (1982), Rodney falls in love with the wife of a convict. Concerned for Rodney, Del tries to sabotage his relationship and succeeds. Del isn't the antagonist of that episode because the audience is aware that nothing good would have come of the relationship and that Del was interfering in the best possible motives of protecting his brother from a criminal. In 'A Royal Flush', however, his defence of his actions that Special Branch would be checking on Rodney's background is a rather presumptuous and tenuous one. A more dignified approach would have been may be having the Duke be dismissive of Rodney so Del protects him, and, in doing so, burning bridges with the upper class and maintains Rodney's dignity. Instead, this version of Del is at odds with the established one. While he protected his brother in 'No Greater Love', he stoops as low as causing him emotional harm when he totally destroys his brother's pride at the dinner party and physical harm to him when he twists his broken hand; while he was fighting off Rodney's rival in 'No Greater Love', he was selling Rodney's exile from Vicky to Maylebury to make money which leaves one to ponder whether this was Evil Del's intention all along. In doing this, he has destroyed what could have been a fruitful friendship between two like-minded people just so he could earn a few thousand pounds. If this is indeed the case, Evil Del is actually more intelligent than the usual one and definitely more ruthless; he has lied, feigned stupidity and offended his way through several innocent people in order to achieve his own ends. While it is was written to be indicative of Del's occasional mindless nature, his shaking Rodney's broken hand could be seen as a victorious pose of Evil Del that well and truly supplants his defeat of Rodney. Del has had a fun evening in a country estate that has rendered him drunk; while Rodney may have been reeling from emotional scars caused by embarrassment. All of Del's actions leave a bad taste in the mouth because they are so out of character. Derek Trotter is not Edmund Blackadder or Albert Steptoe, he has good qualities that are all but absent in this episode.

Speaking of Albert Steptoe, 'A Royal Flush' bears similarities to at least two episodes of Steptoe and Son. The opera scene is reminiscent of 'Sunday for Seven Days' (1964) where the Steptoes go to the cinema but Albert ruins the experience by making a nuisance of himself. The whole dinner party scene is similar to a scene in 'Loathe Story' (1972) where Harold relays to a psychiatrist how Albert ruined his engagement to an upper-middle class woman. The point is, while Only Fools and Horses can be seen as an '80s equivalent to the '60s Steptoe and Son, Rodney is not as pretentious as Harold nor is Derek as loathsome as Albert; yet, in this episode, they are just like they were written by Galton and Simpson. In the past, Del would call Rodney a 'plonker' and no one would think anything of it because it was obviously affectionate, but his actions in this episode, like Albert's, seem to also stem from entrapping Rodney and appear vindictive and hateful. Perhaps he is reacting to Rodney's attempt to tie him down to England in the previous episode, 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire?'? It is also disconcerting to see Evil Del threatening violence to pretty much everyone who dissents against him; whether it be a potential customer in the market that doesn't buy into his spiel or a furious opera goer who, quite rightly, castigates Evil Del for his obnoxious behaviour during the performance; Evil Del seems angrier than normal Del who seems to revel in the trouble that he is causing.

Unfortunately, loose characterisation and awkward scenes aren't the only flaws this episode possesses: it also suffers from being rushed. The tight schedule ended up with the crew finishing the editing on the day of its broadcast on Christmas 1986 so the episode lacks a studio audience. Unlike 'To Hull and Back' which didn't have an audience because it is more like a caper film than an episode of a sitcom so it's forgivable and perhaps preferred; 'A Royal Flush' however needs the reaction to dilute the discomfort of the opera and dinner party scenes. It is not to 'tell us when to laugh' as the practice is commonly misconstrued, but to maintain the comedic atmosphere and in a show like Only Fools and Horses, this is essential in setting and preserving the mood. On top of that, sound effects are missing. This is mostly prominent in the final scene (ironically my favourite scene in the episode) where the corridor outside the flat lacks the ambient noises one would hear from London. While a minor flaw, it is a perfect metaphor for the episode: it is a cold and nasty episode to watch, just like the unnatural silence that had hit the council estate the night where the Trotter brothers are arguing about their character derailment.

One of the strengths of Only Fools and Horses is that it showcases identifiable characters and, for the most part, uncanny situations. It isn't a 'gentle' sitcom like As Time Goes By or Butterflies neither is it a dark comedy like One Foot in the Grave and Bottom; it fits firmly in the middle. While Only Fools and Horses sometimes explored the darker side of comedy, such as Del's reaction to Cassandra's miscarriage and the misplacement of Grandad's hat at his funeral; it is generally an optimistic comedy; indeed, most of its catchphrases are optimistic: 'This time next year, we'll be millionaires!' and 'He who dares wins!', so this episode, which would have been more at home in the dark universes of One Foot in the Grave and Bottom sticks out like a sore thumb from the rest of the episodes. Even the more reviled trilogy of the early 2000s was somewhat easier to watch and kept the characters consistent.

More interesting is the story behind the episode. While he did write the episode, John Sullivan was away in Paris shooting the third series of Just Good Friends when 'A Royal Flush' was filmed, so he was not on the set and could not write re-drafts for the episode. As stated, he hated the episode and it languished in obscurity for many years, no more prolific than the 'unofficial' episodes such as 'Licensed to Drill' and 'Christmas Trees' until finally released on VHS in 2000. In spite of the release and the fans lapping up the chance of seeing an Only Fools and Horses episode they possibly haven't seen before, Sullivan still remained dissatisfied with the episode and when the story was finally released on DVD in 2004, it was heavily edited under Sullivan's guidance. A whopping 18 minutes were cut from the original, such as cutting out the majority of the opera and dinner party scenes in order to minimise Evil Del's faults. The biggest change however was the added laughter track, which, for reasons already specified, was a welcome addition. That being said, the original version was released on DVD along with 'The Frog's Legacy' in 2005 as part 13 (the irony) of The Only Fools and Horses DVD Collection. To this day the DVD has appeared on eBay for higher prices than the official DVD and is sought after by hardcore Only Fools and Horses enthusiasts to see what the big fuss is.

In conclusion, 'A Royal Flush', while not as bad as 'If They Could See Us Now' (2001), which was the first part of the show's misguided revival, is the absolute nadir of the show's original run; hated by its creators and the fans alike, it is a wonder that fan outcry is large for the BBC to release the unedited version of the show on retail DVD. 'A Royal Flush' is such a pessimistic episode that goes so far from the grain that it is uncomfortable, unpleasant and cringe-worthy to watch and it is not at all recommended for the casual Only Fools and Horses fan. If one does want to see 'A Royal Flush', I recommend the 2004 edit over the original because it is more like an episode of Only Fools and Horses; tracking down a copy of the original is time consuming, rare and, ultimately, disappointing. I like to pretend it doesn't exist. To me, 'The Frog's Legacy' follows 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire?' and 'A Royal Flush' was just a nightmare of Sullivan's that showed him what would happen if the show was written by someone else.

The Puzzle Box

This is a short story I wrote for my Creative Writing course.

‘What’s this, Mother?’ Abigail asked as she cleared the dust off of the bric-a-brac that had entrenched itself in the cupboard. Unlike the other items, the box was not covered in residue. The old woman did not know which item she was referring to.
‘What, this toy sail boat, you mean? That’s Michael’s from when he was a child, don’t you remember? He loved that sail boat as if it was a real one. I always said that he had the blood of a sailor flowing through him. Even when it bobbed in his bath he felt like he was controlling it. Then of course he grew up and he became interested in numbers instead.’
‘No, Mother’, sighed Abigail, ‘I meant this box, this box here.’ The old woman’s smile of nostalgia waned and she grabbed the box and hid it from her daughter’s view. ‘It’s nothing, really nothing.’
‘But it’s unique. It has some kind of pattern on it and there seems to be something in it,’ Abigail insisted, ‘please, let me see it at least.’
‘No and that’s final. This item is precious to me and I’m not having clumsy removal men wrecking it and chipping the paintwork from it.’ The box rattled as she tried to hide it.
‘Okay Mother, I’m sorry’ said Abigail, slightly offended and surprised at her mother’s offhanded curt behaviour. The old woman smiled, thanked her for understanding and retired to her living room, box in hand.

Ariadne Harris had lived a full life. She had two children whom she both adored and her husband, God rest his soul, had died ten years ago leaving the mental anguish that came with death plenty of time to heal itself. She still thought of him, not in sadness, but in resigned nostalgia. Whenever she reached for a book she could see him sitting in his old chair, smiling and recommending her a novel. Sometimes, she could see him staring at her in the corner of her eye, with a similar love he felt when he first met her; a love not dwindled by time and familiarity but enhanced. Although she missed him, she never depressed herself about him gone; she was to join him soon and she could picture him welcoming her with open arms into the land beyond the pearly gates. She had been blessed by the fact that she had not yet succumbed to her heart condition and that the pacemaker she was fitted with was better than a new heart, so much so that her condition was virtually non-existent. She promoted good health and was rewarded with good health. It was only now, in the cusps of her twilight years, that her mind was beginning to desert her. It was a sudden change that brought about a gradual decline. One day she was attending one of the various social events that she had organised and socialised with her many friends and the next, she was reeling in her bed with a chronic headache and most of the etiquette she had learnt about knowledge and behaviour had begun to leave her. It was a reminder that she was getting old. The day after she had forgotten the odd morsel of trivia that she was adamant she knew and for each day, another piece of the jigsaw of her mind had disappeared. Two years later, her intimate knowledge was a small town in her head surrounded by a moat of emptiness that had isolated her from the rest of her mind. Whether the diameter of the moat was large or not was immaterial; it was there and it separated her and essentially evicted her out of her mind.

She sat in her red felt bound chair and fingered the pamphlet for the care home she was destined for. It was unfair. She had started her life dependent on others and now it seems that she will end her life in much the same manner. She scrunched up the leaflet and threw it on the floor like a defiant child so she could forget about her predicament, even if it was only for a minute. Unfortunately, the uncertainty of her future continued to prey on the remains of her mind so she grabbed her box from the coffee table. It was a pretty thing. It had a foundation coloured in tan and it was decorated with a sun on one side and a moon on the other. The other two vertices were concerned with the inner-workings of the box and contained an assortment of knobs, levers and buttons of varying shapes, sizes and sensitivity. Despite their differences, they all suited the same purpose: mocking Ariadne Harris for all of her life.

It was the only thing that her loveless parents had given to her all those years ago. For, while she held fond memories of her life that were gradually fading due to her senility, she felt disquiet about her infancy and it was this that made her life seem fake; she could hide from the truth for as long as she could, but in the end, she would have to confront it if she wanted to leave this world in peace. Ironically, now that most of the memories of her constructed life had almost vanished, the dark memories she had kept dormant for sixty years were as clear as if they were happening in the present. Running away from the past was no longer an option because she had reached a dead end. For a brief moment, she returned to the pose she held as a child, flinching from some invisible force that taunted her and laughed at her impotence. For all of her life she had lived scared, because even in the midst of the bright sun that can only hit the country in the middle of July, the clouds of her psyche left her in the shade. In the past, she could escape these onslaughts. She could find security in her husband's embrace, joy in her daughter’s creativity and pride in her son's achievements. Her receptive behaviour had also acted as a blanket protecting her from scandal. The smiles of her patrons and the fact that the proceeds were going to worthy causes were the only things that kept her going. In spite of this, there was still fear of discovery. How would the chairwoman of the coffee mornings be received when it was revealed that she was a frightened little girl? It would be her ruin. She would not stand the finger pointing, fake sympathy and whispered gossip from her closest colleagues because they would have made her parents martyrs. Even fifty or so years after their death, her fear of them overshadowed her like her father's fist often did.

The reason they gave her the puzzle box was a mystery more veiled than the box's contents; unlike the solid object that had lived in the box for sixty years, it was an idea lost to time. She had considered asking for help with the box, but Ariadne felt that this was her problem and if there was an item in it and the puzzle box was given to her, then it is a fair assumption that the item inside was for her; another thing given to her by her parents. While they were beyond redemption, perhaps there was something in the box, an item, a poem, a sentiment, that proved that they loved her. In spite of her prevailing curiosity, she never cheated and she had committed herself to opening her box fairly and receiving the item by her own wits. In short, the puzzle box was a challenge, and she had always been tempted by the trials a challenge would pose. Her patience was a virtue in that, although the box remained sealed, it had not defeated her, and even now, war-torn and lacking her full mental facilities, she was more determined than ever to open it. Her only deadline was her impending death, but seeing as she no longer had any purpose to her life except to vegetate, she accepted her parents’ challenge.

----

The sunlight was rare but when it hit, it lightened up the room. It amplified the white painted walls and created a spotlight of natural life that separated itself from the stagnant air and artificial light of the facility. It was as if real life was trying to intrude on fantasy. The room was small, but homely. The pictures that adorned the wall were of battles long gone that were confined to history. The furniture was not extravagant either; there was a settee against the western wall and it hardly stood out against the minimalist décor. Below the window was the biggest surprise, the monolithic shadow of a television.

'This'll be your room, Mrs. Harris', said the head carer, Mrs. Dunstan as she guided Ariadne and her daughter, Abigail, into the room. 'It's your home now, treat it as you wish.'

'It's very nice, isn't it, Mother?'

'Erm... yes, very nice.'

'Yes, Mother, I think you'll have a lovely time here.'

Ariadne's eyes filled with tears. 'Are you sure, Abigail? I've heard horrible rumours about retirement homes.'

'We have caring staff here and wonderful people, Mrs. Harris. You're not alone any more', said Mrs. Dunstan.

'See, Mother, they just want to help and look after you. Remember, I'm just one phone call away.'

'Thank you', said Ariadne, 'but I'd rather just sit in here with my thoughts if that's okay.'

'Mother, you have to make friends, you can't live the rest of your life on your own. That's why Michael and I put you here. You were going mad living alone.'

'Mad? I've only just started! I loved the peace and quiet I could get at home. Look at this room! It's devoid of sentiment. I wouldn't have the walls painted cream and I wouldn't have asked for a television set instead of a bookshelf. I'm an old-fashioned person, sure, but I'm proud of it. Here I am, betrayed by my two children, kicking and screaming back into my childhood.'

'Mother, I didn't mean...'

'Get out.'

'Yes, well we'll leave your mother to get used to her room. There's still some paperwork we need you to fill out, Miss Harris. Could you follow me, please?'

'Yes, of course. Will you be all right, Mother? I'll be back soon to help you unpack.'

'Get out.' Ariadne repeated not raising her voice above a whisper. She watched as Abigail and Mrs. Dunstan left the room. She moved to the armchair that hid in the corner of the room. Recoiling from the shock that the chair was not as comfortable as her red felt chair from her home, she searched through her handbag, stopping on the small pine object. With a sigh of relief that she had not lost or damaged it in transit, she began working on it. In the sparse room that she now had to call home, Ariadne devoted all of her energy to the box.

Days, weeks and months passed and Ariadne had hardly left her room. Mrs. Dunstan often tried to ingratiate Ariadne in group activities and introduce her to fellow residents but she would not have it. She qualified time and time again that she preferred her own company and she was only in the home on sufferance. In conjunction with her social life deteriorating, Ariadne's appearance had sunk. Her doll-like features which previously betrayed her age had sagged, creating trenches of wrinkles that decorated her face. Her eyes, which were once warm and open had now shrivelled black balls that resembled currants. Her mouth also suffered injustice. In crafting her receptive behaviour, she had mastered a certain kind of smile that tried to welcome people without actually saying anything. She had no need for that any more as she did not entertain guests. With a permanent snarl, she was the face of determination. The only things that could be heard from the room were muffled curses, sobbing and loud banging of the walls as she threw the box in exasperation which could only be subsided by the doctor sedating her. Abigail and Michael visited her weekly, but she never said anything to them as she preferred to listen. Abigail's art was selling quite well and she had moved to a new house with her fiancé while Michael had got a job at the local university lecturing on mathematics. After a while, her children were conscious of the fact that their mother was becoming distant. Mrs. Dunstan told them of her progress, which was always the same, and they resigned themselves to just observing her. Ariadne, now becoming unaware of her surroundings, recognised the young people who watched her, but were likely not important; after all, they were stalling her progress in opening the box. Likewise, Abigail and Michael knew that their mother was gone and what they were observing was merely a mockery of her.

It was now winter. The falling snow, illuminated by the moonlight, cast its heavy shadow over Ariadne as if she was infested by gnats. She lay in bed with her box in hand. She had attempted the puzzle so many times that she had devised a strategy. After an hour of desperate tampering, she felt satisfied that she was close to opening it. She predicted that the puzzle box was composed of a hundred and one turns and, by turn eighty-eight, this was the closest she had ever been to solving it, at least in her mind. She turned one of the vertices to the left and the patterns changed into something she had never seen before. She was now so close. She pulled a lever. She turned a knob. She pulled another lever. Finally, the sound she had been waiting for: with a click, the box was open. Like a grasping animal, Ariadne grabbed for the item inside the box, the very thing that had taunted her for sixty-four years. Due to her frenzied movements of accomplishment, the box and its contents fell off of the bed. In excitement, Ariadne was about to pick the box up again but she suddenly realised that the exertion was becoming too much for her heart and it was hurting a lot more than before. Cradling her heart, she knew that her time could be measured in seconds. With the last remaining energy left to her, she bent her back and allowed her hand to descend the endless slope of the side of the bed. She clutched the box, still containing its mysterious contents, held it tightly and reeled it back to her with the same effort a fisherman would pull a prized fish. Now, as relaxed as she ever was, she was about to peer into the box. Before she could see inside she fell back and the box dropped onto the floor with a clatter that echoed in the still room.