Too Many Secrets

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Too Many Secrets Page 2

by Adele Broadbent


  Deep breaths, Becs. It couldn’t be that hard. There was a fifty-fifty chance I’d go the right way. Anyway, if I was lost for a bit, Mum would see how dangerous it was and we could all go home. There had to be a better way to get me into Ascot.

  I shrugged and started walking, looking for something familiar. Tree, tree. Tree, bush, tree. It all looked the same. Thwack! ‘Ow!’ Something stung me behind my ear. A bee? Thwack! ‘Ow!’ My cheek this time. It wasn’t a bee. It felt like the blow darts boys made at school. I spun around, searching the bush for my attacker. There was no-one there. Thwack! Dragging my hoodie up over my ears, I bolted down the path—but not for long. I can walk round a mall for hours but running through the bush is different. I soon stopped to get my breath. My lungs burned as I peered back the way I’d come. No-one.

  I gazed along the track ahead of me, sure I was lost forever. That’s weird. Something orange caught my eye. It stuck out against the endless green of bush. Concentrating on the splash of orange, I walked closer and didn’t see the branch that caught me across the cheek. But I sure felt it. I sucked in my breath and when I touched my face, I had blood on my fingers. That was it. I hate to admit it but I was ready to bawl my head off. It had not been a good day. I wiped my sleeve across my cheek, looking up into the trees, trying not to cry.

  No way!

  A tree house sat high in the branches of a gnarled, grey tree—the sort of tree house you’d see in a Swiss Family Robinson movie (Mum dragged me along to one once). It was all branches and rope and knots. The orange splotch I’d seen was the corner of a blanket hanging over the windowsill. A ladder was propped against the trunk. Like the hut, it was made from logs and rope. This would be ‘Nick Heaven’, I thought.

  Ladders aren’t usually my specialty but since there was no-one around to see me looking like a demented monkey, I thought it was worth climbing to check it out.

  Squeal! I whirled around expecting a giant boar about to run me down, but again there was nothing but bush behind me. It was probably the bird getting its own back.

  With my heart still banging in my chest, I tried out the first rung of the ladder. I climbed up, testing each rung as I went.

  Wary of anything with more than two legs, I poked my head up through a trap door in the floor of the hut. In the corner, a mattress was scattered with frayed, patched blankets. A few books were neatly stacked on a small table. Books in a tree house? I’d expected cobwebs everywhere like in the long drop, but the hut was swept clean. Weird.

  As I gazed around, the sound of voices came through the bush. ‘Becky! Where are you? Becky!’ It was Mark!

  ‘Becs!’ Nick too. I backed down the ladder as fast as I could, partly because I wasn’t lost any more and partly because I didn’t want them to see the tree house. It was the perfect place to escape Nick, listen to my iPod and read my books. I’d clean out the other stuff. Some kids must have left it there.

  I headed towards the voices before they could come any closer. ‘I’m here,’ I called as calmly as I could.

  ‘Becs!’ Nick ran and threw her arms around me, nearly bowling me over.

  ‘Where have you been all this time?’ cried Mark. ‘Your mum is worried sick.’

  ‘I just needed some privacy.’ I peeled Nick off me. ‘You don’t expect me to use that gross hole for a toilet, do you?’

  Mark turned and trudged back up the track without a word. Nick yanked on my hand to follow.

  I glanced over my shoulder, hoping they hadn’t seen the hut.

  Chapter 6—Becs

  Thank goodness you’re all right.’ Mum hugged me as soon as we reached the clearing. ‘What happened to you?’ She touched my cheek.

  ‘It’s just a scratch. Nothing happened. Just needed the loo.’ I wasn’t going to tell her I’d lost Nick, been scared silly by a bird, been stung by something, then ran into a branch. Too embarrassing.

  ‘Come on, you guys!’ Nick waved from the ute.

  Thank God, I thought. They’ve realized their huge mistake and we’re leaving. My heart sank when I saw the back of the ute was empty. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Into town for supplies,’ said Mark.

  ‘Town! Wahoo!’ We all piled into the ute. I turned to look out the back window as we left. If only we really were leaving. ‘Hey! What the…?’

  ‘What’s that, Becs?’ asked Mum from the front seat.

  ‘I thought I saw…’ I peered into the bush.

  ‘What?’ Nick spun round in her seat. ‘I saw a funny bird with skinny red legs.’

  Mark began explaining what bird she must have seen, and she turned forwards again. I was sure I’d seen something move back near the shack. Much bigger than that brown bird that freaked me out earlier. I turned to the front, shaking my head. I was getting bush fever already.

  ‘Town’ was made up of one shop and three boarded-up buildings. Oh, yay. I trailed into the shop after the others. I needed a top-up card for my cellphone. I had to text my friends to come and save me.

  The shop wasn’t much better than the shack. A thick, musty smell crept into my nostrils. It was like stepping back in time, standing amongst the rows and rows of shelves holding everything imaginable. There was food, of course—hundreds of cans of stuff. There were giant sacks stamped ‘Flour’ and ‘Sugar’ leaning in the corner. There were tools and bottles and clothes and boots. There was even a pair of metal skates—the old-fashioned kind that you buckled on over your shoes.

  ‘They came with the store when I bought it,’ came a voice right by my ear. I spun around to see a guy grinning through his thick black beard. ‘Can I help?’ he asked.

  ‘Um, no thanks,’ I blurted, and scuttled up to the counter where Mum and Mark waited.

  ‘Hi,’ said Mark, when the owner followed me. ‘I’m Mark Burgess. We bought—’

  ‘The old Herrick place,’ finished the guy. ‘Biggest news around here for a while.’

  ‘We’re famous, Dad,’ said Nick with a grin.

  The owner stuck out his hand. ‘Name’s Jeff Cooke.’

  After all the intros, Mum rattled off the list of stuff we needed. It was a long list. While Jeff filled the boxes, he rambled on about the area and who lived there.

  ‘What about other kids?’ asked Nick. ‘Where’s the school?’

  Good question, I thought, hoping there were other kids she could annoy instead of me. Someone my age might be good too?

  Jeff shook his head. ‘No school now. Not since the Herricks left. Not enough kids left in the area. The rest go to boarding school or do correspondence.’

  I slumped against the counter. Yay. Stuck with Nick.

  ‘The Herricks?’ asked Mark. ‘As in Herrick House?’

  ‘That’s right. The folks who sold it,’ said Jeff, ‘now there was a strange lot.’

  Chapter 7—Becs

  I was still letting the ‘no school’ thing sink in when he started talking about the Herricks. But he got my full attention when he mentioned the word ‘murder’.

  ‘But that was all bush gossip,’ he said, waving his hand.

  No-one said a word. I waited for him to tell us more but he disappeared out the back of the shop.

  ‘What did he mean, Dad?’ Nick whispered. Mark shrugged.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked when Jeff came back to the counter. Mum shot me a frown but I knew they were all dying to know too.

  Jeff grinned. ‘You know, small town. Everyone knows everyone’s business, or spends all their time trying to.’ Mum and Mark nodded.

  ‘The Herricks kept to themselves, living off the land mostly,’ Jeff said. ‘They were an odd lot. Eight or nine kids they had. I could never keep track. Except for the kids’ schooling, they hardly came to town.’

  I rolled my eyes. I mean, why would they?

  ‘Mr Herrick was tough on his kids.’ Jeff shook his head. ‘Very strict and religious. You know, “spare the rod and spoil the child” rubbish. He didn’t mind using his belt on them.’

  ‘That’s ter
rible,’ said Mum, putting her arm around Nick’s shoulders.

  Jeff nodded. ‘The murder rumours started when the oldest boy disappeared.’

  ‘What happened to him?’ I asked again. No frown from Mum this time. We all leaned on the counter practically holding our breath while Jeff stopped to make a note of how much we’d spent.

  ‘Out of the blue, he stopped coming to school. Never missed a day before that. Eventually someone saw him in the bush,’ he continued, ‘so we knew his father hadn’t finished him off.’

  ‘Was he wagging like Becs did once?’ asked Nick.

  Jeff laughed when I elbowed her. ‘No. The story was he’d argued with his father and ran away. Typical teenager. Then all the kids stopped coming to school. Herrick House was up for sale soon after that, and they upped sticks and left. Not sure where. Plenty of rumours about that too.’ He closed off a box and started filling another.

  ‘What about the boy?’ asked Mum.

  ‘He hasn’t been seen since they left,’ said Jeff. ‘I’d say he went with them. He didn’t get on with his dad but he was devoted to his mother.’

  ‘It must have been awful for him,’ said Mum.

  Jeff closed the second box and gave us the bill. ‘So that just leaves old Oscar as your closest neighbour.’

  ‘Old Oscar?’ asked Mark.

  ‘Don’t see much of him either,’ said Jeff. ‘No-one knows much about him, just that he’s been here longer than most. His place is north of Herrick House but I’d be surprised if you ever saw him. He’s off hunting most of the time.’

  On the drive back to the shack I kept thinking about the Herricks. What a weird story. Why would they live in that shack when they had a huge house named after them up the road?

  ‘Oh heck!’ I suddenly remembered. ‘I forgot to buy a top-up for my phone.’

  Mark laughed. ‘I’m sorry, Becs. You’re not having a good day, are you? You won’t need any top-ups. There’s no cellphone coverage out here.’

  I slumped in my seat with a groan. ‘No wonder that boy ran away.’

  ‘I don’t think that was the problem, Becs,’ said Mum.

  ‘Isn’t it amazing there were Herricks still here?’ said Mark. ‘All the dealings for the house were through lawyers and agents. I never met the old owners. I thought it was strange but that’s obviously what they were like.’

  ‘A bunch of weirdo greenies?’ I said from the back seat.

  ‘No, Becs,’ said Mum. ‘Very private people.’

  Mark whistled. ‘Nine kids. They might’ve kept to themselves but they certainly kept busy.’

  ‘But what do we do about school?’ asked Nick.

  ‘We’ll have to find out about correspondence lessons,’ Mark began.

  I gazed out the window, tuning them out. Had the tree house I found belonged to the boy? Had he left the blankets and books? As soon as I could, I was going back for a better look—if I could find it again.

  Chapter 8—Becs

  What the—?’ Mark swore. Mum gasped, and put her hands up to her face.

  I sat up and looked through the windscreen as we reached the shack. At first I didn’t see what was wrong. As we got closer I saw my best skirt hanging inside out from a tree branch and my tops littering the bushes. My underwear lay in the dirt all over the front yard. ‘Oh, Mum!’

  ‘We only left two boxes outside. I thought they’d be fine,’ said Mark.

  ‘Look at all my sheets!’ said Mum. A pile of sheets and towels was dumped on the ground and a box of pots and bowls had been tipped out.

  ‘Aw, who’d do that?’

  ‘Possums, Nick,’ said Mark. ‘Just possums checking us out.’ Mum quickly dropped her hands and I saw her and Mark swap glances. There was no way they thought it was possums, and neither did I.

  Mum sent Mark inside with the supplies while I scrambled to pick up my underwear and yank my new bras off the trees. My skirt tore when I tried to pull it from the branch. ‘When I find out who did this—they’re dead.’ I pulled another top from a bush. Typical. It had to be my stuff that was left outside.

  Nick handed me two more skirts. ‘Possums didn’t do this, eh, Becs?’

  ‘No kidding.’

  ‘Damn!’ Mark yelled from around the back.

  ‘Uh oh,’ said Mum. We found him staring at the water pump—in pieces on the ground.

  ‘Possums didn’t do that, Dad,’ said Nick.

  You think?

  ‘Who’d do this?’ cried Mum. ‘I didn’t think this happened in the country.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ grumbled Mark. ‘But when I catch them…’ He picked up the scattered parts and put them in a box. ‘I’ve got to go back to town for some new bits. We need this pump for our water.’

  ‘Can I come?’ asked Nick.

  ‘Yep,’ said Mark. ‘Maybe we should all go,’ he said to Mum and me. ‘I’m not sure you guys should stay on your own. They might come back.’

  Mum touched his arm. ‘We’ll be fine. We need to get things sorted before it gets dark. I’ll keep an eye out and we’ll stay inside if we see anything strange. Besides, I don’t think they’d be brave enough to take on Becs at the moment.’

  Mum and I chucked all the pots, linen and clothes back in the boxes and lugged them inside the shack. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll all wash up fine,’ she said. We slid them onto the grubby table. She stared around the kitchen. ‘It looks like I’ll be doing lots of washing and scrubbing.’ I didn’t know how she could still be smiling. She wouldn’t have been if it were her bras decorating the trees.

  Mum began rummaging through boxes. ‘Do you want to put some of your things away in your room?’

  ‘Where is my room?’

  ‘Grab a box,’ she said, and headed out of the kitchen. Two rooms came off an alcove. I looked for the third.

  ‘There are only two bedrooms,’ said Mum, entering the left one. ‘You and Nick will have to share until we get sorted at the big house.’

  I slumped against the door frame. The bedroom walls were unpainted boards, and the ceiling was open rafters like the rest of the place. Nick’s stuff was spread across the floor next to the window that had no curtains. My side of the room was draped in cobwebs. ‘Oh, Mum.’ You guessed it. I lost the plot and burst into tears.

  Chapter 9—Becs

  Come on, Becs.’ Mum lifted the box from my arms and plonked it on the floor. She led me back to the kitchen. I bawled for ages. Mum let me cry and gave me a huge hug. I have to admit it was nice having her to myself for a bit.

  After half a roll of paper towels (Mum couldn’t find the tissues) and a dozen deep breaths, I finally got control of myself. ‘Did you know?’

  ‘Did I know what?’

  ‘Did you know how bad it was going to be?’

  ‘It’s a bit rougher than I thought but you’ve seen the photos and plans of Herrick House. Mark’s right. It’s worth refurbishing.’

  I shook my head. ‘I can’t remember,’ I admitted. ‘I never really took much notice.’

  ‘I guessed as much. That’s why you’ve been cranky all day. You didn’t know what you were in for.’

  ‘I know it’ll get me into Ascot.’

  Mum sighed. ‘Ascot. Is it really that important?’

  I stared with my mouth gaping. ‘Only the most important thing ever! But I didn’t know it would be this awful,’ I waved my arm, ‘and I’d have to share a room with Nick.’

  ‘I know it’s all taken a bit of getting used to,’ said Mum. ‘Nick thinks the world of you. That’s why she follows you everywhere. Just give her a chance.’ She sighed again when I pulled a face. ‘Mark and I have been married over a year now and you act like nothing’s changed—coming and going with your friends, still doing your own thing.’ She touched my hand. ‘Mark and Nick are our family now. I thought this place would help bring us together.’

  I shoved my chair back from the table. ‘You married him, Mum, not me! Was this all planned? Live out in the sticks, have a worm farm, eat home
-grown veges like hippies and be one big happy family?’

  ‘No, Becs—’

  ‘You thought if we came out here, I’d forget my mates and Ascot High?’

  Mum shook her head, but suddenly it all made sense to me. ‘Just because we have no phone or cell coverage, doesn’t mean I’ll forget them, cos I won’t! I’m only here because we made a deal.’

  I stormed outside to see a pair of undies I’d missed before. Biting my lip against more tears, I snatched them up and stuffed them in my pocket.

  I couldn’t believe it. Mum had wanted me to stay home more and more since they’d got married; ‘To do family things.’ But I wanted to be with my friends more and more. We’d argued about it heaps. And now it looked like Mum had got her way. Well, just because I was stuck with them, it didn’t mean I had to like it. And if Nick thought she was getting the best side of the room, she was wrong. I marched back inside again. I picked up another box of my stuff and headed for my room.

  Mum was already in there attacking it with a broom. Without a word she swept the ceiling free of cobwebs and the floor clear of dust. While I watched, I saw the only shelves were on my side of the room. Maybe once I’d filled them with my books, it wouldn’t look so bad.

  There was no carpet through the shack and I was glad it was the middle of October. It’d be freezing in winter. But we’d be back home by then. That’s what I had to do. Get the job done and get home to my mates. If I stuck to my side of the deal, they’d have to stick to theirs.

  We soon had both beds up and some clothes unpacked. Luckily, Mum dealt to any eight-legged wildlife hiding in the corners. I planned to sleep entirely under the covers anyway. The thought of something crawling in my hair freaked me silly.

  Toot! Toot!

  ‘They’re back,’ said Mum. ‘Let’s see if they found out any thing.’

 

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