The Bentleys: Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE
The Bentley’s were not your average mice. True, they were terrified of cats, large knives, and humans. But they lived in number 602, a four-story house on Crumberry street.
In their neighbourhood were many other mice families that were just as respectable as them. The Bentley’s were proud of having a large, comfortable, clean, and of course, lavishly furnished home. The Bentley’s had four children, whose names were arranged in alphabetical order. Alexandra, Beatrice, Charisse, and Evelyn. The Bentley’s did their very best to think of a good name for a girl that started with D, but all they could come up with was Dolores, which was the name of Mrs. Bentley’s aunt, and goodness knows they did not need another of those, so they settled with E.
The Bentley’s house had a large kitchen, a back parlour, a middle parlour, and a front parlour, a grand dining room and a smaller dining room, eight bedrooms (not including the guest bedrooms or the nursery), and fifteen bathrooms, not to mention their many extra sitting rooms that they didn’t know what to do with. They had fourteen maids, two cooks, four butlers, and a housekeeper. As you can see, they were most definitely wealthy. Mr. Bentley was a lawyer. And though you may be wondering, ‘why on earth would a mouse need a lawyer?’ you would be quite surprised.
Mrs. Bentley visited boring ladies all day and grew plump on tea and crumpets. Her daughters stayed at home, the youngest one cared for by a nanny and the older ones watched over by a governess. Evelyn always received the newest playthings, and Alexandra, Beatrice, and Charisse were never without the latest mouse fashions in dresses, hats, jewellery, and such. So up-to-date were they that often new fashions were started by them. Mr. Bentley, however, worked late many nights so as to pay for all of these things. Not that working was bad, for he adored his job. Many a night would he come home, tired but triumphant, when his client won a case, and the whole family would go out to town to celebrate.
Their life was almost perfect. So when trouble came around, the Bentley children were completely blind to it. It all started one cloudy afternoon…

“Mother! There’s a salesman at the door.” Alexandra’s high pitched yell pierced the quiet atmosphere of Bentley Manor.
Mrs. Bentley answered, “Tell him to leave… we don’t buy from cheap salesmen.”
“Aww. Why can’t Bea do it?”
“Alexandra, just do it. Oh, and tell Macie to make tea.”
“Alexandra, who was at the door?” Charisse said, as she flounced down the stairs.
“Just a salesman. Anyway, his goods are cheap and ugly.”
“Alexandra! Did you take my floral dress? Where is my scarlet scarf?” Beatrice shrieked.
Evelyn wailed, “Mummy! My mouse doll broke; the new one! Get me another!”
“QUIET! I am having Mrs. Finchfilly over in twenty minutes! And I expect you all to be on your best behaviour. You know what a snoop and a gossiper she is,”
“But Mother!” Said all the girls simultaneously.
“I mean it! All of you, go straight to your rooms.”
The mice sighed and skittered up to their lavish rooms where they all proceeded to complain about everything in sight. As you can see, they were all as spoiled as milk that sat on the counter too long. They had never been refused a single thing, and that can make anyone act as if they own the world.
The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Bentley rushed to the door, smoothing down the front of her dress. “That must be Mrs. Finchfilly, come early! Oh, I do hope we are all ready.” She fluttered to the door and opened it graciously. “Oh… hello, sir. I am Mrs. Bentley. What is it that you require?”
A mouse in a pinstripe suit stood at the door, carrying an overlarge briefcase with papers sticking out of it. “Ah - ah - I am Cornelius D-duffle, ma’am. From the Big B-budget B-bank. I h-have some news for you. Is Mr. B-bentley at-t home?”
Mrs. Bentley, looking slightly worried, answered, “Yes, he is. Shall I call him?”
“Ah - yes, that would-d be best,” said Mr. Duffle. Mrs. Bentley ushered him in.
Mrs. Bentley said, “Alexandra-”
“Bea can do it!” Alexandra’s squeaky voice yelled back.
Mrs. Bentley sighed.“Beatrice!”
“Yes mother?” Beatrice said in a silky voice, often used for flattery.
“Go and get your father, and tell him to come into the front parlour immediately.”
“Yes mother.”
As Mrs. Bentley nervously did her best to make Mr. Duffle comfortable, Beatrice hurried upstairs and through the hallways till she reached the largest bedroom.
“Father? Mother says to come down at once.” Beatrice squeaked.
“Why? Never mind. I shall come as soon as possible.” What Beatrice failed to notice, which might have saved her some astonishment later on, was that her father’s eyes were red, and it looked like he had not had much sleep. When Beatrice scurried back down the stairs, Mrs. Bentley was saying,
“Oh, Mr. Duffle, would you like some more tea, or pastries?”
“N-no thank y-you. I am q-quite satisfied.”
A few minutes later Mr. Bentley arrived. He greeted Mr. Duffle, and invited him into his office. Mrs. Bentley followed. About an hour later they came out again looking anxious and thanking Mr. Duffle. As soon as the door closed behind Mr. Duffle, Mr. and Mrs. Bentley hurried back to the office. Muffled shouts could be heard through the office door.