The House of Secrets

by Denise Burdett

  Nan’s home was a large rambling red brick house with verandahs all the way around. The windows were as big as doors and when they were fully open you could walk straight out onto the veranda. Paint was peeling off many of the surfaces, and some of the surrounding fence was missing palings. New houses flanked the property on both sides and four large Norfolk pines grew alongside the rear fence that backed onto a laneway.

  The lanes were used many years ago by merchant vans before supermarkets came to the area.

  Nan had told Georgia many stories of the baker, grocer, fruit and veggie man, and milkman all delivering their goods via the back lane.

  As the car came to a stop, the front door of the house opened. Out came a fat bald man followed by Nan. The man looked agitated, his face was flushed. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief and glanced up briefly towards Georgia and her mum. He then proceeded to stomp down the steps, marching past the car and down the driveway, muttering to himself as he went. Nan came down the steps to greet Georgia and her mum as they got out of the car. She was holding a piece of paper.

  “I’m pleased you have arrived safely. It’s a long journey for the two of you,” she said as she hugged and kissed them both.

  “Who was that?” asked Beth turning her head in the direction of the fast retreating man.

  “That thief is my neighbour. He wants me to give him the house,” said Nan.

  “Give him the house?” asked Beth in a disbelieving voice.

  “Well, for the price he wants to pay for it I’d be giving it to him,” said Nan waving the piece of paper she held in her hand. “I may be old but I’m not a fool. Come on, forget him, and let’s go inside.” Georgia picked up Turbo in his cage.

  “Where shall I put him Nan?” she asked.

  “Put him in the storeroom opposite the room you always stay in,” said Nan rolling her eyes as if annoyed to have the cat in her house. “I’ve put out some things for him. He can stay in the west wing for a couple of days until he gets used to the smell and the noise of the house. You may take him into your room with you at night if you like.”

  Georgia thanked her nan and headed into the house with Turbo. She walked down the long hallway, through the garden sitting room and into another long hall, which was the west wing of the house.

  Georgia’s room was the last on the left. Turbo’s room was directly opposite. Georgia checked to make sure it was safe to let Turbo out. On the floor were toys, a soft blanket and a kitty litter tray.

  “See Turbo, Nan really is a softie. Look at all these nice things for you,” said Georgia, stretching her fingers through the wire to stroke Turbo’s head. Along with the toys there were also two bowls containing water and dried cat food. The window was opened allowing fresh air in. Georgia pushed against the flywire screen to make sure that Turbo couldn’t escape. When she was sure everything was secure, she opened the cage. Turbo wasn’t a very happy cat. He waved his tail in a quick whipping fashion, jumped up onto the windowsill and started to groom himself.

  “See you later,” she said and left the room. She almost bumped into her mother who was just coming out of her bedroom.

  “I’ve put Turbo’s basket and your suitcase in there, darling. You can unpack later if you like. But come now, Nan has made some afternoon tea for us.” The two of them went to the garden sitting room.

  Nan had already placed a tray with freshly baked biscuits, two cups of tea and a glass of milk, on the coffee table. After she had finished her afternoon tea, Georgia walked around the room. She liked looking at all the ornaments, bric a brac, and the photos on the large sideboard and numerous tables. Most were photos of herself, her mum and her nan.

  Georgia’s mum and nan looked very much alike. They both had straight blonde hair, which they wore in a bob, though Nan’s hair was now more grey than blonde. They were both thin and tall, with long slender hands and blue eyes. They had very similar mannerisms – like straightening their clothes when they sat, or sitting with one hand resting on the other. They were different however in the way that they carried themselves. Nan’s movements were very straight, stiff and upright, whereas Beth was fluid and relaxed.

  Georgia looked more like her father. Her hair was like his, brown with a slight curl. It became even curlier when it rained. She was of average height and weight and had green eyes like her dad.

  “I think I’ll go and unpack,” said Georgia excusing herself, leaving her nan and Mum to catch up. Unpacking didn’t take long as her mother had only packed a few clothes and some toiletries. Georgia had kept her iPod and diary in her backpack that she carried with her in the car. The rest of her belongings would be coming in the removalist’s truck tomorrow.

  The contents of the truck would be stored in one of the many sheds on the property. Her mum had told Georgia that she could go through the boxes and get out items, as she needed them. Beth didn’t see the need to unpack all the boxes until they were in their own home.

  Georgia looked in on Turbo who appeared to be content sitting on the windowsill. He pushed his head against her hand and purred as she stroked him gently; the purring coming from deep inside his chest. Georgia’s father had named him as a kitten; he said his purring sounded like an idling engine. Georgia decided to explore the garden; kissing Turbo on the head, she left him to sit and watch the birds outside. She followed the many overgrown pathways all of which led to a neglected garden feature, or a bench or statue. She stayed outside until the sun was low in the sky.

  After dinner and a bath, Georgia collected Turbo and went to her room. She listened to music on her iPod while Turbo checked out every inch of the room. It was as though he was sniffing or hunting for something. Georgia had never seen him act quite so strangely. Beth came in to say goodnight.

  “Look at Turbo, Mum,” she said. “He’s acting weird.”

  “He’s in a strange house. It’ll take him a day or two to get used to his new surroundings,” said her mum, tidying the room as she spoke.

  “You can listen to your music for a little longer, but not too long. You’ve had a big day today and I want you to get a good night’s sleep.” Her mum kissed her goodnight. Leaving Georgia’s touch lamp on, she left the room. Beth was careful to close the door securely behind her to ensure that Turbo couldn’t escape. Turbo wasn’t the least bit interested in escaping. He seemed mesmerised by the old cane chair in the corner. He sat on the carpet and just looked up at the chair as if watching something or someone. Georgia took out her ear phones and reached for her diary and pen that were on her bedside table and wrote:

  Dear Diary,

  Today I was made to leave all my friends to come and live in this boring old town and weird house. I love my nan heaps, (even though she can be a grumpy old bat). She can be happy one day and sad the next. It’s hard being with her when she’s sad. I don’t know how to make her happy. I know she loves me. She often sends me little gifts for no reason. She signs all her cards with love hearts and kisses.

  The stuff she sends is pretty cool too, and there are photos of me all over the house. She seems to have more sad days than happy ones so I don’t want to live here forever. I think she loves me better at a distance. Can’t say that I’m happy about any of this, but as usual I have no say in it. Dad’s no help either, ‘but Princess you’ll have a good time, and you can ring me whenever you want.’(Yeah whatever Dad!) That’s all he said when I asked him if I could live with him! Life happens and right now I don’t like what’s happening!!!!

  The air suddenly felt very cold on her arm and hand as she reached out to put the diary back on the side table. Georgia could see her white warm breath in the cold air.

  In one fast movement she touched her lamp so that it turned off and quickly snuggled down pulling the doona over her head. She pulled her lucky key out from under her pyjama top and clasped it tightly in her hand. Closing her eyes she concentrated on listening to the soft purring sound coming from the big fat fluffy cat, and in no time at all she was fast asleep.

&nb
sp; A BIG HOUSE

  As she was beginning to wake, Georgia felt the weight of Turbo sitting on the bed beside her feet. Not bothering to open her eyes she sleepily called to him.

  “Come here,” she said and gently patted the top blanket close to her chest. “Here Turbo,” she called again, this time opening her eyes. She felt the weight near her feet lift off the bed, but when she looked Turbo was nowhere near. He was all curled up in a ball fast asleep in his basket.

  This strange house freaks me out, thought Georgia as she got out of bed. She went to the window and pulled back the old heavy dark green drapes. It was spring, but the hills were covered in fog and she could only see a few metres into the yard. She sat down in the cane chair and looked around her room. Everything in it except for the touch lamp was very old, but the room had a nice feel about it. This had been Nan’s bedroom when she was little.

  Nan had told her that nothing had changed in all these years except for a coat of fresh paint.

  By now Turbo was meowing at the door looking for his breakfast. Georgia quickly dressed and put Turbo in his room. She then went to the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her hair.

  “Good morning darling, did you sleep well?” Nan asked Georgia as she walked into the kitchen. Nan appeared in one of her distant moods. Her words were thoughtful, but her face remained expressionless.

  “Yes thanks Nan,” she answered as she sat down at the big wooden table in the centre of the room. Her mum gave her a kiss on the cheek and placed a bowl of cereal in front of her.

  Georgia and her mum chatted over breakfast about their plans for the day. Her nan watched them closely but only joined in the conversation when asked a question, and whenever possible answered with a simple yes or no, or a nod of the head.

  Over the years Georgia loved to sneakily watch her nan’s face. Sometimes she’d catch Nan smiling when she didn’t think anyone was watching. Georgia could always tell if Nan was happy because her eyes would smile. Georgia volunteered to clean up the breakfast dishes and tidy the kitchen, while her mum and nan planned to supervise the removalists and the storage of their goods in the shed.

  “Listen,” said Nan. They stopped chatting and listened. It was the truck coming up the driveway.

  “Once the truck has gone you can go through your boxes if you like, Georgia,” suggested her mum.

  “Maybe later,” replied Georgia, as the two women left the room.

  Although Nan’s house was old, it had lots of modern appliances. There was the dishwasher, a microwave, wall oven and hotplates. Georgia cleaned up the kitchen. Satisfied with her efforts she decided to explore the rest of the house. Georgia had explored the house briefly many times before, though it had always been with either her mum or her nan. This time she had no one to tell her not to touch, or that certain things were of no interest to a child.

  The house would have been quite grand in Nan’s younger years. As you entered the front door a long hallway separated two rooms on either side. These rooms were formal rooms used for entertaining in the old days. Nan’s study was also in this part of the house.

  At the end of the hallway was the garden sitting room. There was a television in this room, so Nan used this room the most. The kitchen was to the right of this room. There were fifteen rooms in all. Georgia’s bedroom was one of the rooms in the west wing. Nan’s bedroom was in the east wing. Georgia decided to explore the east wing. These were the rooms that she had seen the least of over the years. She opened the door and entered the hallway.

  A tall window at the end of the hall allowed enough light in so that Georgia did not need to turn on the hall lights. The first door to the left was Nan’s bathroom. It was similar to Georgia’s but a different colour scheme. Across the hall was Nan’s bedroom. Georgia peeked in for a quick look. The furniture in this room looked as old as the furniture in Georgia’s room. She went over to the window. Georgia could see the removalists going in and out of the back of the truck. They reminded her of ants arriving at a picnic empty handed and leaving carrying a load on their backs. Nan and her mum would occasionally appear out of the shed for a minute to supervise the proceedings.

  As she was watching Georgia noticed a ute pull up in the driveway. A man alighted from the vehicle and was gathering things out of the back. Her mum and nan came out of the shed and walked over to him. Georgia watched, as her nan seemed to be arguing with the man. She was pointing to the gate and appeared to be telling him to go. The man threw his stuff back into the ute, waving his arms. He was shouting but Georgia couldn’t hear what he was saying. Beth put her arm around her mum, as if comforting her, and together they walked back into the shed.

  “Wonder what that was all about?” said Georgia out aloud. It was unusual for her Nan to allow someone to comfort her like that. Georgia watched the shed for a few more minutes to make sure the women weren’t coming back into the house. Satisfied, she continued her exploration. Georgia looked down at the table beside the window.

  The lamp on the table had long crystal droplets hanging around the edge of it like a fringe. The crystals would catch the sunlight and reflect rainbow-coloured patterns on the walls.

  On the table beside the lamp was a photo of a handsome man in uniform. Georgia knew this was her grandfather. She had seen him in a few photos her mother had, but this was the only photo she had ever seen in Nan’s house. Her nan didn’t believe in having photos of the dead on display in the house.

  “Makes me too sad,” was the reason she gave.

  Not wanting to disturb her nan’s personal things she went back out into the hallway. As she closed the door something caught her eye. She was sure she saw someone going into the storeroom at the end of the hall.

  “Hey,” she yelled, and hurried down the hall to the storeroom; reaching out she grabbed the doorknob. It was icy cold to touch causing Georgia to pull her hand away and step back from the door. Her heart was beating fast.

  She was about to turn and run from the hall when she felt a warm sensation coming from her lucky key. The warm feeling instantly washed over her. One more try she thought and shook her hand before placing it on the knob. The knob was no longer cold, so she quickly opened the door. No one was there. The room was still and silent.

  “Anyone here?” Georgia asked, her eyes glancing around the room from the doorway. A shiver went down her spine; she hesitated for a moment. ‘Spooky house.’ she thought to herself, but immediately dismissed the idea.

  “I must be seeing things,” she whispered. She entered the room, walked over to the far window and pulled back the partially opened drapes. The sunlight brightened the room instantly. There was so much good stuff to look at and Georgia wasn’t sure how much time she would have.

  There were boxes and bookshelves, trunks and old furniture, knick-knacks and toys. She looked over the many items on the bookshelves. There were Nan’s tax returns for about the last twenty years – all in manila folders with ribbons tied around them. Sifting through the old books was causing the dust to rise. Georgia decided to see if she could open the window a little to let in some fresh air.

  The windows were very big, from floor to ceiling. Georgia found an old footstool and placed it at the window so she could reach the latch. To her surprise the latch turned easily. She got down off the stool and grabbing hold of the bottom handles on the window, she pulled up as hard as she could.

  At first it didn’t feel as if it would budge. She wobbled it a little. It looked as though it had not been opened for some time given the dust and the cobwebs on it. With her hands holding tightly onto the handles she gave one almighty heave and the window began to slide up. She pushed it up about half a metre, leaned down and took in a deep breath.

  The air in these hills was so fresh. She turned around looking back into the room then back again at the window.

  “If I don’t lock you,” she said looking at the window, “then I’ll be able to sneak back in here anytime I like.” Georgia started looking through some of the boxes. Ther
e were baby photos, school photos, ribbons and ornaments. There were baby clothes and one box full of clothes that would fit Georgia, but they were a bit daggy and old fashioned. She had been there for a while when she heard the removalist truck start up. Her mum and nan would be coming in soon. Georgia quickly put things back so the room looked as it did when she entered it.

  She pulled the window down, leaving it open a few centimetres and closed the drapes. She would come back in through the window if she got the chance. She dusted off her clothes and stepped back into the hall closing the door behind her. She had just walked into the kitchen when she heard her mum and nan coming down the front hallway.

  “Still here in the kitchen?” asked Nan as she entered the kitchen. Not waiting for an answer she continued. “Well then make yourself useful and put the kettle on.”

  Georgia nodded and her nan proceeded to get out cups and tea bags. Georgia wanted to ask who the man in the ute was but thought she’d better not. She excused herself and left the two women fussing over their teas. She went down the hall to let Turbo out. Georgia decided it was time for him to explore this end of the house. The sooner he got used to the smell of his new home the sooner he’d settle down.

  She went into her room leaving her door open so that Turbo was free to come and go. She flopped onto her bed, kicked off her shoes, put her ear phones in her ears and turned on her iPod. Turbo came in and jumped up on the bed beside her. He meowed, blinked his eyes a couple of times as if to tell her something, then jumped down and sat looking at the cane chair by the window.

  “What’s up Turbo? What do you like about that chair?” she asked. Turbo turned his head towards Georgia tilted it to one side, meowed, then turned around and continued to stare at the chair. A few minutes later she noticed a shadow pass by her window. Georgia hurried over to the window. She looked in the direction the shadow had gone, but could see nothing. Turbo was now at her feet.