Читать книгу The Pearl Locket: A page-turning saga that will have you hooked - Kathleen McGurl, Kathleen McGurl - Страница 12

Chapter Three

August 2014

The day after moving day, a Saturday, dawned fresh and clear, cool for the time of year but sunny, with the promise of warmth later on once the sun was higher. Thank goodness for that, thought Ali. They could get on with sorting out the house, emptying boxes and filling cupboards. Though if it got too hot she knew she would just want to take a picnic rug and a book down to the beach for the afternoon. Well, maybe if they made good progress she could do that—start as she meant to go on, now that she lived so close to the sea. Might as well make the most of it while they lived here, however long that would be.

She was busy in the kitchen, unpacking endless boxes of kitchen utensils and deciding which of the many shiny new cupboards they should go in. Pete certainly hadn’t skimped on cupboard space when refitting it. He’d done a great job. Now, he was trying to get the TV and hard-disk recorder to work and the kids were upstairs organising their respective rooms. The radio was on, playing cheerful Saturday morning music, the sun was shining in through the window and, all in all, life was pretty good.

Kelly came downstairs. ‘Hi, Mum. My room’s sorted, as much as I can do right now. Did you know the wallpaper’s peeling off, behind that god-awful blue sink in the corner? There’s a bit of a smell of damp in there as well.’

‘The house was tested for damp, Kelly, when we had the survey done. There’s no damp in your room.’ Pete had come into the kitchen and heard her comments. He pushed his way past piles of boxes and grabbed the kettle. ‘I need more tea. Anyone else?’

‘Yes, please,’ Ali said.

‘Even if it’s not damp, will you do my room soon, please?’ said Kelly. ‘I want something really cool and classy. I had to put up with that Barbie wallpaper in the old house for far too long.’

‘Ha, well you chose it,’ laughed Ali.

‘Yeah, when I was, like, six. I grew up, Mum, or hadn’t you noticed?’ Kelly gave her a playful thump on the arm. She was right, Ali thought, she had grown up. So quickly. At seventeen she was almost a woman. What had happened to their little girl?

‘As soon as Matt gets here is it cool if we go out for a bit?’

‘Yes, it’s, er, cool. It’ll do you good. Go down to the beach or something. Make the most of the day.’ Ali gave her daughter a quick hug. She was glad they had a good relationship. Many of Kelly’s friends seemed to barely ever speak to their parents.

The doorbell rang. Ali glanced at her watch. It was too early for Matt to arrive, surely? Kelly went to answer it.

‘Hi, are your parents in?’ Ali heard a male voice in the hallway. Not Matt. She brushed cardboard-dust off her T-shirt and went out to see who it was. Standing on the doorstep was a man in his forties, tanned, wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of loose denim shorts. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Sorry to interrupt your unpacking. I’m Jason Bergmann, your new neighbour from number seven.’ He held out his hand.

Ali shook it. ‘Lovely to meet you, Jason. I’m Ali Bradshaw; this is my daughter, Kelly. Do come in. It’s a mess but we can offer you a cup of tea or coffee.’ She stood aside to let him pass.

‘I was just calling to welcome you to the street. And if you’re free this evening, come round about eight for a glass of wine in my garden? You’ll be sick of unpacking by then, I’d say.’

He had a nice smile. Ali warmed to him instantly. ‘Thanks, that would be lovely.’

‘What would be lovely?’ said Pete, coming out of the kitchen with his mug of tea. ‘Oh, hello.’ He shook Jason’s hand.

‘Jason Bergmann. From next door. Bottle of wine round at mine this evening? To celebrate your move.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Pete said. ‘I’m Pete. We also have a son, Ryan, around somewhere. He’s thirteen.’

‘Kelly and Ryan are most welcome, too. I’ll leave you to your unpacking, and see you later, then.’

‘Seems like a nice chap,’ Pete said, after Ali had closed the door. ‘It’ll be good to get to know a neighbour so quickly.’

Kelly went back upstairs. The new neighbour seemed nice, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go round to his drinks party this evening. Sounded a bit dull. She was barely in her bedroom when the doorbell rang again. This time it must be Matt! She raced down the stairs, almost tripping on a loose corner of carpet on the half landing, and got to the door just as her mother was opening it. It was Matt. She launched herself into his arms before he was even over the threshold.

‘Steady on! What a welcome. Hi, Ali. Settling in OK?’

‘Hi, Matt. Yes, thanks. Lots of unpacking to do, but we’ll get there. Tea?’

‘No, Mum. We’ll be going out in a few minutes,’ Kelly said.

‘Er, no thanks then, Ali. Kells, can I at least have a tour before we go out? I can’t wait to see the house. It’s huge!’

‘OK, a quick one, though. I’m desperate to get down to the beach.’ Kelly took him by the hand and dragged him on a whistle-stop tour of the downstairs. ‘Living room. Dining room, though I think it’s going to be more of a library cum playroom cum office, whatever. Kitchen. Dad’s already done that up. Big enough to have a table and eat in. There’s a coal shed out there. Mum wants it converted to a utility room. Downstairs loo under the stairs.’

She pulled him upstairs. ‘Ryan’s room, Mum and Dad’s room. Bathroom, spare room. My room.’

‘It’s big!’ Matt stepped inside and spun around.

‘Ryan’s is bigger.’

‘This is way nicer than your old room. I like it!’

‘What? Seriously? With this hideous wallpaper?’

‘Better than Barbie. And look at the size, the space and hey, the view!’ He crossed to the window and gazed out at the garden.

‘A view of the coal shed roof.’

‘And that oak tree at the end of the garden. Love it!’

Kelly grinned. His enthusiasm was infectious. She put her arms around him from behind and nuzzled her face into his back. ‘Dad’s going to decorate it soon. I’m going to have cream walls and aubergine curtains, with some hot-pink accessories. It’ll be gorgeous.’

‘Like its inhabitant, then.’ He twisted around to face her, and put his arms around her waist.

‘Charmer.’ She reached up and kissed him, full on the mouth.

‘Hey, slow down. Your mum and dad are in the house! Thought you wanted to go to the beach?’

‘I do. Let me grab my bikini and stuff and we’ll go.’ She let go of him and started rummaging in the drawers she’d so recently filled, looking for her beach gear.

‘You’ve got a sink in your room.’

‘You’re so observant.’

‘Useful.’

‘Horrible. I want Dad to take it out. Look at the peeling wallpaper around it!’ Kelly grabbed a loose corner of paper above the skirting board and pulled. The paper came away in a huge long strip to halfway up the wall.

Matt gasped. ‘God, you’ll get in trouble for that!’

‘No, I won’t. It’s all got to come off soon anyway.’ She tore another strip upwards, screwed up the paper and stuffed it in her bin.

‘Hey, there’s something written on the wall, here.’ Matt moved closer to get a better look. ‘A love heart—how sweet! What’s it say? Joanne, no wait, Joan loves Jack. Aw! Joan and Jack. Wonder who they were? Give us a pencil, Kells. I’ll add our names—Kelly 4 Matt, hey? What do you think, babe?’

Kelly felt a shiver go down her spine. Joan, Jack. Who were they, indeed? One of them presumably lived in this bedroom before her, and had written this on the wall. Mum had said that her great-aunt Betty had lived here alone for fifty years, so it had to be before then, unless it was a visitor. But a visitor wouldn’t write on the wall. It had to be someone who’d lived here. Joan, whoever she was, was probably dead by now. A picture flashed into her mind of a young girl, her own age but from a time way back, with blonde hair caught at the side in a Kirby grip. That was the problem with old houses. They were full of the ghosts of past occupants.

‘Kelly? Are you OK?’ Matt’s voice broke into her thoughts.

‘Fine. Let’s get out of here. I need some fresh air.’ She grabbed her beach bag and ran down the stairs.

‘You’ve got the window wide open. How much air do you need?’ Matt called after her.

But Kelly felt she just needed to escape from the house for a while. ‘See you, Mum. We’ll be back for tea.’ She dragged Matt after her.

‘Er, bye, Ali—see you later.’ He waved as Kelly dragged him out of the front door, down the garden path.

She banged the garden gate closed behind them and took a deep breath. Better already.

‘What’s the matter, Kells? You seem really wound up.’

‘I am. Joan loves Jack. That really creeped me out, you know.’

‘Why? It’s only a couple of names.’

Kelly shook her head and began walking down the road towards the clifftop and beach. ‘I don’t know, Matt. I just thought, what if they were, like, our age when they wrote that, and maybe that was like fifty or sixty or seventy years ago, before Mum’s great-aunt had the house. They’d be ancient now. Or dead. And it’s just weird to think of kids like us, being in love and everything, and then getting old and dying.’

‘Babe, it happens to us all, you know? Everyone gets old and dies sometime. Unless they die young.’

‘Dying young would be better than fading away.’

‘Bet you won’t say that when you’re fifty.’ Matt playfully punched her arm.

‘Fifty’s already old.’

‘You should try to find out who that Joan and Jack were,’ Matt said. ‘Like, if one of them lived in the house, maybe your great-gran would know. Maybe one of them was some relative of yours. You might not feel so creeped out about them if you knew who they were. My mum’s into the whole genealogy thing, you know. She spends hours online, trying to fill in gaps in the family tree. It’s kind of interesting, in a way.’

Kelly considered this. Maybe it would be a good idea to do a bit of research and find out who they were. Joan was such an old-fashioned name. It had to be someone from long ago. But who?

A week later, Ali and Pete had unpacked everything and flattened the hundreds of boxes, which were now stacked in the garage waiting for the removal company to come and collect them. They’d arranged the furniture and hung curtains, and the house looked respectable enough to entertain visitors. It was beginning to feel like home, though Ali could still not believe they actually owned the house outright, after their years of renting. They’d met several neighbours as well as spending a pleasant evening with Jason from next door, the day after moving in. He seemed to be a thoroughly pleasant chap. In some ways he reminded Ali a little of her father.

She had invited her grandmother to tea that afternoon and was busy making preparations. Kelly was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and texting.

‘Kelly, will you help me make a cake for your great-gran?’ Ali asked. ‘You know what a sweet tooth she has. Dad’s collecting her this afternoon. She’d love a home-made cake.’

‘Aw, Mum. I hate baking. I’ve got loads of homework to do as well. We’ve started a module in history about life for ordinary people during the Second World War. I’ve got a stack of reading to do for it.’

‘Oh. All right then, I’ll do it. You should go and get on with your homework now. Get it out of the way before she comes, so you can spend some time with her. Remember it’s going to be a lovely big surprise for her, that we’re in this house where she grew up.’

Kelly looked up from her phone and frowned. ‘I don’t get why you didn’t tell her we were moving.’

Ali began collecting together the ingredients for a Victoria sponge cake. ‘Well, I did tell her we were moving house, just didn’t say we were moving here. She knows we inherited it from Betty, but I’d let on that we were planning to sell it. I thought it’d be a lovely surprise for her to find that we’ve actually moved in, and are bringing the house back to life. I can’t wait to see her face when she arrives.’

‘Hmm, well. I’ll go and do my homework now, then,’ said Kelly. She picked up her phone and tea mug, scraped back her chair and left the room.

At ten to three Pete was despatched to collect Margaret Eliot from her nursing home. Gran was eighty-nine, and as Ali’s parents lived in Spain it had fallen to Ali to make arrangements for her when she’d become unable to cope in her own home any longer. She’d also had to sort out a place for Great-aunt Betty, who’d spent the last couple of years of her life in a different nursing home. Ali had always felt it was sad that the two sisters didn’t get on, but Gran had never said much about why that was. Anyway, it was too late now.

Ali bustled round, putting plates, cups and saucers ready on a tray, filling the kettle, and sprinkling icing sugar over the top of the Victoria sponge. It had come out well. She wasn’t much of a baker herself but it was worth making the effort for Gran, who would certainly appreciate it.

She went into the living room, the window of which looked out onto the street, to await Gran’s arrival. A couple of minutes later, Pete’s car pulled into the driveway. Ali rushed out to the front door, calling up the stairs to Kelly and Ryan as she went.

Outside, Pete was wrestling with Gran’s Zimmer frame, trying to pull it out of the boot, while Gran remained sitting in the passenger seat. He was swearing quietly. ‘Darn thing went in all right. Why won’t it come out?’

Ali went round to open Margaret’s door.

‘Gran! I’ve been so looking forward to bringing you here. What do you think of our new house? Of course, you know it well. I’ll hardly need to give you a guided tour!’

Margaret’s face was stony. ‘Hello, Alison. I think you’ve got a bit of explaining to do. Why didn’t you tell me you were moving into this house?’

‘I thought it would be a lovely surprise for you,’ Ali said. Oh no. Don’t say Gran was upset by it. Had she got it all wrong?

‘Well it’s certainly a surprise, but not a lovely one. I’m here now. May as well come inside, I suppose. Never thought I would have to set foot inside this cursed place again.’

Pete, standing by with the walking frame, raised his eyebrows at Ali. She gave a small shrug in response. ‘Come on then, Gran. Let me help you out of the car.’

Inside, Kelly and Ryan came running down the stairs. Each of them hugged Margaret tightly, and Ali was relieved to see her grandmother smile at them. Whatever had put her in a bad mood, she still seemed delighted to see the children.

Kelly took the old lady’s arm and led her into the sitting room. Gran sat down in an armchair and looked about the room. ‘It’s strange. This room feels so familiar but so different. It must be ten years or more since I was here last. Yes, it was back in 2002, after my poor Roy died. Betty came to his funeral and then a week later invited me for tea. Just a duty invitation, it was. She didn’t really want to see me, but I suppose she thought she ought to. And I didn’t really want to come, but felt I should. Alison, I thought you were going to sell this house?’

‘We were, but, we thought if we modernised it first it’d be worth more. And it seemed sensible to live in it while we did the work, rather than pay rent,’ Pete said.

Margaret nodded thoughtfully. Ali was glad at least that their reasoning seemed to make sense to her.

‘Great-gran, which room did you have when you lived here?’ Kelly asked.

‘Well now, it was the one on the left, next to the bathroom,’ Margaret replied.

‘That’s mine, now,’ Ryan said, triumphantly. ‘I got the big one.’

‘I’m in the smaller one at the back, over the kitchen,’ Kelly said. ‘Whose was that? Was it Betty’s?’

‘No,’ Gran said sharply. ‘It wasn’t Betty’s. She had the one at the front of the house. The back one was…just a storage room.’

‘Who was…’ began Kelly, at the same time that Ali said, ‘Tea, Gran? I’ve been baking. I know how much you like a home-made cake, and though I say it myself, I think I’ve done well.’ She brought in the tray with the Victoria sponge, and smiled as Gran’s eyes lit up.

‘Alison, that looks magnificent. I shall have to visit more often. Though I can’t help but wish you’d sold this house as you said you were going to. You could have bought a lovely modern one with all the money. This house looks so dated. I don’t believe Betty did a thing to it for years.’

‘It is certainly in need of some TLC,’ Ali replied, pouring a cup of tea. ‘But that’ll be half the fun. We can really make it our own. We’ve already done the kitchen. I’ll show you when you’ve finished your tea. And with Pete off work, he has plenty of time to do it.’

‘They’re going to work my fingers to the bone, Mrs E,’ Pete said, rolling his eyes. ‘They’ve already told me I need to do the sitting room, Ryan’s room and Kelly’s room all before next weekend.’

‘You’d best get on with it, then, Peter. Maybe there’ll be a better feeling in this house once it’s been brought up to date. Perhaps it’ll then feel like a home.’

‘It feels like a home now,’ said Ali. ‘To us, anyway. I thought it would to you, as well, as you grew up here.’

Gran took a bite of the cake Ali had passed her, and chewed it thoughtfully before answering. ‘I’m sorry, Alison. I hate this house. I always have done, ever since…ever since I left. I didn’t have a very happy childhood. My father was a tyrant; I think I told you that before. I couldn’t wait to leave home. I’d have gone into digs if I could, but then I met my lovely Roy and he took me away from here. I was so happy to move out. Things happened here. Things you don’t know about and I don’t want to talk about.’

‘Ooh er,’ said Ryan. ‘Is the house haunted or something?’ Ali glared at him, and glanced at Gran. Thankfully she seemed not to have heard.

‘Why did Betty never move out?’ Ali asked, steering the conversation onto a safer track.

‘She never married. And when our parents died, as the eldest she inherited the house and stayed on. She was still in her twenties then. She’d always been Father’s favourite in any case. Whatever he said, she would agree with. That’s one reason I didn’t get on with her. She was too much like him.’

Ali nodded. Gran had told her before about her bully of a father. She watched as the old lady ate the rest of her cake. Gran was looking tired and frail today. Ali hoped it hadn’t all been too much for her—the trip out, the shock of finding out where they’d moved to, and the emotional upheaval of visiting this house. She cursed herself inwardly. She should never have kept it secret. She should have discussed their move with Gran before, rather than springing it on her like this. ‘I’m sorry, Gran, for not telling you we were moving here. I should have done. If you’re not comfortable here, next time we’ll take you out to a café somewhere, or we’ll visit you at The Beeches.’

Gran smiled weakly. ‘Don’t you worry, Alison, dear. I’m just a little tired today. Another slice of that lovely cake might help perk me up a little. And it is lovely to see you all. I’ll get used to the idea of you living here, I’m sure. It’s time I moved on and forgot about it all. It was all so long ago, after all.’

‘Forgot what, Great-gran?’ asked Kelly.

‘Just—the way things were back then. The war. Everything that happened. Ah, thank you, Alison.’ She tucked into her second slice of cake, as Pete began chatting about his plans to knock down the coal shed at the back of the house and rebuild it as a utility room.

‘What do you think your gran meant, about things that happened here?’ asked Pete, as they sat together watching TV later that evening.

Ali shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I feel so bad about the whole thing, springing that surprise on her like that. I should have thought it through a bit more.’

‘You weren’t to know. She’d never said before that she hated this house, had she? Not even after Betty died and you told her you’d inherited it.’

‘No. But I think I said that we’d just sell it straight away. Now I can’t help but wonder what happened here that made her hate the house so much.’

‘You’ll have to ask her. Maybe she’ll talk about it when she’s away from here.’

‘I’d be afraid of upsetting her. She looked quite unwell by the time we took her back to The Beeches. I’m worried about her, Pete.’

He hugged her. ‘She’s a tough old bird, your gran. She was just a bit tired, that’s all. And probably it’s just the memories of her bullying father that makes her hate the house. I doubt there’s anything more sinister than that.’

Ali leaned her head on his shoulder. He was probably right. But she was concerned about Gran. She hadn’t been on good form at all today.