We drove right up the main street and found the Gold Discovery Centre at the top.
“This has all changed. I don’t remember that building being there—I’m sure it was closer to our house.” I pointed to the large stone structure above the street.
“What is it?”
“Don’t have a clue. Something to do with the mine.” A name suddenly came to me. “The Cornish Pumphouse I think.”
A smiley blonde woman greeted us inside the Gold Centre. She appeared pleased to see us, which made a refreshing change to the overrun tourist places we were used to back home. “Hi, what can I do for you?”
“We’re looking for some information about the Grand Junction Mine. We were told to try here.”
“Okay, I’ll help where I can. I usually have a colleague bobbing about but you’ve just missed him. He knows a lot about the area back then, but he won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“I used to live in the Grand Junction Mine Manager’s house around twenty years ago. I just returned from the UK and wanted to see it, but all that area has changed and is mostly fenced off.”
“Ah, we had quite a major event in 2001. A house slid into a hole—well, a collapsed mine shaft, actually. Most of the area close by was evacuated and the houses bought up by the mine.”
“Yes. The security guard on the gate said a similar thing. Is there any way I can get close to the house? You see my dad died there and I wanted to pay my respects and leave some flowers.” The bullshit just rolled off my tongue, and I could see Pete’s amused face from the corner of my eye.
“I don’t know about that. I’ve heard about the Mine Manager’s house, but, to be honest, if it’s still there it’s unlikely you’d be able to enter it.” She glanced at her watch. “I was going to suggest you try the museum, but it’s not open now until noon on Thursday. I’d say that’s your best bet.”
“Okay. Thanks for that.” I smiled at her, then raised my eyebrows at Pete and sighed.
He put his arm around my shoulders and we walked to the car in silence. “I got a couple of brochures about the mine,” he said as we reached the car. “I knew this was a gold-mining town, but I didn’t expect there to be a massive crater. Where is it?”
I nodded to the Pumphouse up above the road. “If I’m not completely confused, then it’s just up there. Do you want to see it?”
He nodded enthusiastically, and we climbed the steps hand in hand.
Tears pricked my eyes when I saw the familiar sight of the mine. Although bigger than I remember it, it brought back so many memories. Dad and Uncle Declan both worked for the mine when I was a kid, and we didn’t have to venture far from the house to get a view of it. The huge hole was the backdrop to most of my childhood memories.
“Fuck me sideways!” Pete said, his face a picture.
I blinked back the tears and barked out a laugh at my potty-mouthed husband. “Pretty impressive, isn’t it?”
“It’s so well hidden. I didn’t expect anything like this here and I’ve been driving around it all day.”
The vast pit was surrounded by a high wire fence, and the area had all been developed since I was last there.
“Is that normal?” Pete pointed to a huge rock fall at the far side of the pit, before marching over to an information board.
“Not that I know of. Looks like a slip to me.”
“Yes, you’re right. It’s a slip.” A male voice came from behind me, causing me to spin around.
“Oh, hi. Sorry, you startled me.” I laughed.
The gruff-faced gentleman didn’t even glance at me before continuing his rant. “Been like this for a while now. Upwards of fifty jobs lost.”
“Really? Gosh, things have changed around here.” I sidled over to Pete. “I’ve got to get used to random strangers wanting to chat instead of thinking they’re out to steal my handbag.”
He laughed. “Just chill out, baby. You’re home.”
I gripped his fingers and smiled. “You’re right, but it doesn’t feel like home.”
“It will do, just give it time.”
Covering my mouth with my hand, I yawned. “You nearly finished? I need to get back and close my eyes before I drop where I stand.”
“What do you want to do today?” I stretched and lifted my head to look at the clock. “Jesus, Pete—it’s still the middle of the bloody night, what are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. But I’m sick and tired of this jetlag.” I slid from the bed and joined him on the sofa.
“I was thinking we could go shopping for essentials—towels, bedding, kitchen stuff. We get the keys in a couple of days and then we’ll be busy getting ready for your mum’s arrival next week.”
“Good idea. I need to get a new Kindle too. We should go to Tauranga. I used to love going there.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“We can’t go yet though. We’ve got hours before the shops open.”
He pulled me up onto his lap. “We’ll just have to think of something else to do to fill the time.” He spoke the words into my mouth as he pressed his lips to mine.
“Hmm. I wonder what you have in mind.”
The next two days were taken up with shopping in anticipation of getting the keys to our new house on Friday.
“You forgot to go to the museum today,” Pete said on Thursday evening as we tucked into fish and chips in the motel. We ate with our fingers directly from the paper, as Mum always allowed me and Charlotte to do.
“There’s plenty of time. Maybe Mum can come with me next week.”
“That’s a good idea. She’ll probably enjoy that.”
“I don’t know what she’ll enjoy anymore. I‘m dreading it, to be honest.” My stomach twirled. No longer very hungry, I reached for a napkin and wiped my fingers.
“I’m sure she’s doubly nervous. Imagine it—being thrust into a world full of strangers after twenty years away.” He popped a chip into his mouth.
“I know. I don’t mean to sound selfish. Of course, it will be harder for her.”
He placed his hand on top of mine. “That’s not what I was meaning. But once we get through the first few days, you’ll feel better.”
I knew he was right. “Sorry for being so touchy. What time are we getting the keys tomorrow?”
“We’ve got an appointment at the solicitor’s at ten am. He’ll have the key by then, I believe.”
“Good. As nice as this motel is, I’ll be glad to move into a place of our own, won’t you?”
“Yes. I’m excited about this job. I’ve never renovated a wooden house before. I wonder how easy it is to get tradesmen around here.”
“I wouldn’t have a clue—the same as anywhere, I guess. You finished?” I nodded at the last of the food.
“Yeah—I’m stuffed. That was lovely.”
I wrapped the chip paper into a ball and shoved it into the small rubbish bin in the kitchenette.
“Can I ask you why you came back to Waihi? I’d understand it if you still had your family home, but you don’t know anyone here now.”
I shrugged and sat back down on the dining chair. “I just thought it might be easier for Mum if she was to come back to a familiar place. Do you think that was a mistake?”
“No. Not at all. I was just asking.”
“I didn’t even consider going elsewhere. Maybe we should’ve. There’s no doubt people around here will remember what happened. Shit, Pete. Have I made a mistake?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Just calm down, Hilda. You’ll have a nervous breakdown if you’re not careful.”
Chapter 7
We woke at a little after seven the next morning. The worst of the jetlag seemed to be behind us. We showered and then headed out for a coffee and something to eat before the solicitor’s appointment.
“When do you have to pay for the house, Pete?” I asked, then took a bite out of my not-so-healthy chocolate pastry.
&nbs
p; “I’ve transferred the money through to the solicitor already. It’s a little different to what I’m used to. To get it at the price I offered, it had to be an unconditional offer and the deposit needed to be paid right away. So, rather than transfer it over in two separate transactions, which would cost more in bank fees, I paid it all at once.”
“So, we own it then?”
“Not officially, but yes. It’s unconditional.”
“Okay. I don’t understand you, but that’s fine.”
“No, I didn’t either until Ngaire explained it to me the other day. It’s sold. A sold sign will go up, but the sale won’t be finalised for a couple of weeks.”
“Ah, I understand. I’m looking forward to seeing inside. Does it need a lot of work?”
“There’s quite a lot, but it’s mainly superficial. The owner’s done a lot of the grunty work already.”
“Decorating you mean?”
“It needs a new kitchen and the entire back part of the house has been gutted so it needs new plasterboard and finishing off. The ceilings are high—they’re stunning. But we’ll need a scaffold to get up there to paint them.”
“I thought you said the kitchen was okay?”
He grinned. “It has a kitchenette in the small lounge. It’ll do us until we can get the new kitchen installed. Drink up! We’re going to be late.”
Less than an hour later we made our way back to the car with two sets of keys that had cost us a pretty penny. It felt a little strange to be buying a house I’d never seen, but Pete had never bought a lemon yet.
“Are you excited?” he asked.
“A little. You’d think we’d be used to it by now. How many properties is this since we’ve been together?”
“I wouldn’t have a clue. But this is our first in New Zealand.”
Feeling exhilarated, I almost bounced to the car. “Hurry up. I need to see what you’ve spent all our money on.”
Pete drove us straight to the house. I couldn’t wait to get my teeth into something—use up some of the nervous energy that had been building since our arrival in the country.
We turned into the driveway and I was almost on the edge of my seat—bursting to get a look at the place. I was always the same. Buying a new house never got old for me, but this time I could tell Pete was also excited.
Although overgrown, the sweeping driveway was pretty and had been planted with lots of native trees. “There’s a pond,” I squealed.
“There are two. With ducks.”
“It’s lovely. Mum used to love gardening—maybe we can get her involved in the landscaping.”
“Sounds good.”
A steep bend to the right brought with it the first glimpse of the house—white weatherboard with a grey corrugated iron roof and a deep wraparound veranda.
A gasp caught in my throat.
“Lovely isn’t it?” Pete parked the car and turned to face me.
I opened the door and slowly stepped out—the gravel crunching under my feet.
Pete ran around the car and bounded up the wide concrete steps. “Come and see the view from here. Look, you can see that pumphouse thing.”
I couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.
“Come on, Hilda. I want to show you inside.” He fumbled with the keys and moments later the door swung inward. “Shall I carry you over the threshold?” he gushed. “I don’t know about you, but it feels like a new beginning somehow.”
His words sounded like background noise to my internal scream.
“Hilda. What’s the matter?”
No words would form. Shaking my head, I took a step backwards and banged into the still open car door. This couldn’t be happening. How was it possible?
Pete turned, looking suddenly worried, and ran back down the steps towards me. “What is it? Babe, you’ve gone white. Let’s get you inside.” He took my hand and led me toward the house.
I yanked my arm back. “No!” I yelled.
“Tell me. What’s the matter?”
I shook my head. “That’s my house.” My words were no more than a whisper.
“Yes. This is our house.”
“No! You’re not listening. This is my fucking house.”
Chapter 8
It was as though time had come to a standstill.
Pete stared at me, deep furrows between his eyebrows. He grasped my upper arms, then turned away and rubbed his chin. “I don’t get it,” he eventually said. “How can it be? It’s an old house—at least a hundred years old, the agent said. You must be mistaken.”
“I don’t know how, Pete. But I recognise the steps, the deck, the front door—everything.” I staggered—the world suddenly topsy-turvy.
Pete put his arm around my waist and walked me to the steps, easing me down onto the cold concrete. “Put your head between your knees and take some deep breaths.”
My thoughts were in turmoil. How the hell could my house have moved to the other side of town? Was I cracking up? Maybe Pete was right, all the houses could be similar. But this one looked exactly the same. I sat upright and looked over my shoulder. The colour was different. I think it used to be a muddy green, and now it was stark white. Other than that, it looked the same.
“You wanna have a look inside?” Pete whispered.
I gripped his hand. “I don’t know if I can. I just need some time to think.” I got to my feet and turned to walk down the steep lawn. “I’ll be back.”
“Hilda, wait! I’ll come with you.”
I quickly turned and held my hand up, indicating he was to stay. “I’ll be back. I promise.” The tidy lawn gave way to overgrown bushes and low-hanging trees, and the sunlight had to fight its way through dense, overhanging foliage to leave spattered flecks of light on the grass. I almost lost my footing as the lawn gave way to gravel. Taking one final glance up at the house, I walked off down the drive, stopping at the ponds as the first tears fell.
I bawled my eyes out for what seemed like hours.
Thirteen cute white ducks eyed me warily, and, after a while, one of them came up close and pecked at my red toenail. My squeal startled them and they flew in all directions causing me to laugh hysterically. Moments later, my laughter gave way to more tears. What the hell was wrong with me?
Still unable to face the house, I decided to head into town. The walk would help me release some of the adrenalin coursing through my body.
The weather was warm but mild for the time of the year. I recalled November being sweltering as a girl, but no doubt global warming had something to do with it.
“Hilda? Is that you, love?”
I spun around to see a man who appeared to be in his sixties, with short cropped grey hair and a tidy beard, walking towards me, his arms outstretched.
I panicked. I’d never been very good at recognising faces, but if this man knew me it must’ve been someone from at least twenty years ago. I searched his face frantically for something. Anything.
He hugged me, holding me tight as you would a long-lost friend or family member. I didn’t have any family here and couldn’t remember any friends apart from Wendy and Neil.
I gasped, stepping backwards to look at his face again. “Neil?”
He smiled warmly. “I know, I look a little older—but at least you remember me.”
“I didn’t know you and Wendy were still around here. I wanted to visit the house, but our old area has been fenced off.”
“We sold to the mine just after the slip. I live close to town now. I’m not getting any younger and won’t be able to drive forever.”
“And Wendy?”
“She died, love. Bloody breast cancer.”
I hugged him again. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Neil. Wendy was lovely. I remember her fondly.”
“I know. It’s been three years now, but it still hurts. Are you back for your mum? She’s due out soon, isn’t she?”
“Yes! How did you know?”
“I’m still in touch with her. Well, Wendy was, and I took over writing
to her after Wendy died.”
“Really?” Tears pricked my eyes. “I didn’t know.”
“Where will you be living? I hope it’s local.”
“Long story. In fact, are you busy? Do you fancy a coffee? My treat.”
“I’d love one.”
Neil suggested the Ti Tree Café, a quaint little place up one of the side streets. We ordered coffee and found an empty table at the back of the terraced garden.
“Is it good to be back?” he asked, settling down opposite me.
“I guess so. I’m only just recovering from jetlag.”
“Are you here alone or did Charlie come too?”
“Gosh, no. I’m here with my husband, Pete. Charlotte, as she prefers to be called now,” I rolled my eyes and grinned, “is the picture of domesticated bliss. She’s married with three little kids.”
“Heck, I still think of her as a cute little angel. Do you have any photos?”
“Yeah, on my computer. You’ll have to come over one day so I can show you what she looks like now.”
“I’d love to. Which brings me back to my earlier question—where are you staying?”
“We’ve just bought a place. Pete’s a builder, and he’s agreed to spend a year here while we gauge the situation with Mum.”
“Blimey, you didn’t waste any time, did you?”
“Tell me about it. Pete bought this place without me even seeing it, and here’s the thing—I’m sure it’s our old house.”
“Maybe it is.”
“It’s over the other side of town, that’s the mystery.”
“Your house was moved years ago. Just a couple of years after you left to be exact.”
“How the hell do you move a massive house like that? It’s not a bloody caravan.”
“House moving is a regular thing here, love. Don’t you remember?”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t forget something like that. How?”
“Your house was well documented. I remember seeing it in the paper. They cut it in half and moved it at night.”
Legacy of Lies- The Haunting of Hilda Page 4
