The House of Secrets

by Denise Burdett

  “Oops, looks like I’m in for it now,” she said as the sound of the doorbell rang through the house.

  CAUGHT

  Georgia held Turbo in her arms and looked up at the adults from under her fringe. Mr Bratten’s face was red. His eyes were bulging. Her mum and nan were both trying to calm him.

  “You have no right, no right at all to come into my yard in such a manner. Like a common criminal,” he yelled as he waved a fat accusing finger in Georgia’s face.

  “Excuse me Mr Bratten,” said Beth. “But I do think you’re going a bit over the top about this. I –”

  “I’ll take care of this Beth. This is my house.” Nan interrupted Beth with a look that made her stop suddenly. Turning back to face Mr Bratten, Nan continued. “You’re absolutely right, it was very rude. I don’t know what has gotten into her. You can rest assured Mr Bratten, Georgia will be punished for this display of bad manners.”

  “But I was looking for Turbo. He must have got out of the house. I was scared he’d run away,” pleaded Georgia. She hated having to lie, but what else could she do?

  “Don’t go blaming that poor innocent cat for your bad manners,” added Mr Bratten. “Lucky for you I am very fond of cats; otherwise I would be pressing trespass charges.”

  “I don’t think this warrants police involvement Mr Bratten,” said Nan. “After all she is only a child and no harm was meant nor done.”

  “I’m sure if there are any chores you need doing around your house, Georgia would happy to make amends,” said Beth interrupting.

  “I’ll not have that child step foot on my property. I trust that you will see to it that she remains within the confines of this place for everyone’s sake,” said Mr Bratten and with that he turned and walked down the hall.

  Nan followed him, continuing to apologise. Suddenly Turbo pushed himself out of Georgia’s arms and followed them down the hall. As Nan reached to open the door, Turbo rubbed himself gently against Mr Bratten’s leg. Mr Bratten immediately stopped talking, bent down, picked up Turbo and stroked him.

  “Oh what a sweet cat you are,” he said calmly. Putting the cat down he added, “No wonder you want to run away from that wretched child,” and with that he walked out the door. Nan closed the door behind him then, with Turbo close at her heels, she joined Georgia and her mum in the sitting room.

  “Well, I must say that was a performance and a half,” said Nan pacing in front of the old fireplace. “I’m having enough trouble with that man without you adding to it,” she said angrily, looking directly at Georgia.

  “Mum, that isn’t fair,” snapped Beth rising to Georgia’s defence. “Georgia is not responsible for your problems.”

  Beth flicked her hair behind her ears, rested her clenched fists on her hips, and sticking her chest moved closer towards Nan.

  Georgia knew her mother was angry. She had only ever seen her mum do the hair, hip and chest thing when she was arguing with Georgia’s dad.

  “I don’t understand it,” she continued. “You should’ve stuck up for her. After all she is your grand daughter. She’s had to give up a lot moving here and looking for a cat is not against the law.”

  “That’s right, there is much you don’t know or understand. Bratten has friends in high places. I don’t like or trust him for one minute, but I don’t want to give him any reasons to make my life any more difficult than it already is. I rather you both go if you don’t want to be here. I don’t need your charity,” said Nan whose voice was now starting to quiver.

  Georgia quickly stepped between her mum and nan. She looked up into her nan’s face. Nan suddenly appeared very old and tired.

  “I’m so sorry Nan. I should’ve knocked on his door and asked to search for Turbo. Please Mum, Nan.” Georgia pleaded looking at both of them, “Please don’t fight. Mr Bratten’s just a grumpy old man. I don’t think he likes Mum and me being here.” The women looked at each other.

  “Georgia’s right, Mum. Together we stand, divided we fall, maybe that’s part of his plan,” said Beth realising that the situation was getting out of hand. “We can’t let that man come between us.”

  There were tears in Nan’s eyes but the tension seemed to go from her face. Nan ran her hand gently over Georgia’s face. Georgia smiled. She had seen and heard enough arguments between her parents; she didn’t want any more.

  “I agree,” said Nan, her voice momentarily quiet and unusually soft. “Nevertheless, bad manners will not be tolerated in this house Georgia. Yes, you should’ve knocked on his door and ask permission to look for Turbo. You must be punished.” Nan looked towards Beth and waited.

  “Georgia you are grounded. You are not to leave the house without my permission and on no account are you to leave the yard,” said Beth who looked back to Nan for approval. Nan nodded, satisfied.

  “But Mum,” Georgia began to protest.

  “No buts about it. Now go and get ready for dinner.”

  “And please keep a more watchful eye on that cat!” added Nan as she watched Georgia leave the room.

  Georgia hardly spoke to her mum or nan during dinner; or they to her. It had been quite an evening. After helping with the dishes she excused herself. As she soaked in the bath she thought about all that had happened since meeting Ellie this morning. Something wasn’t quite right. She couldn’t put her finger on it but Ellie was different from the other girls she knew. Why didn’t she hang around after Bratten came out of the house and caught me – she could’ve stuck up for me?

  Georgia finished her bath, put her pyjamas on and went into her room. She picked up her diary.

  Dear Diary,

  I’ve been here for one day and already I have a strange friend with a problem, a grumpy mean old man living next door, and a nan who isn’t very happy with me either. Nan is hard to please most days. But I’m definitely not her favourite at the moment. Where do I start!

  I met a nice girl today. Her name is Ellie; she is twelve years old like me and has lived here all her life. There’s something different about her, but I can’t quite work out what it is. She doesn’t make any noise when she walks.

  I don’t think she is very strong as she wasn’t much help carrying the ladder. Ellie doesn’t like being close either; she pulled away from me today when I got a bit close to her. This girl has a problem with something her dad buried and I got into trouble with the neighbour when I was trying to help her. Nan’s neighbour is even grumpier than Nan is on a bad day. I offered to help Ellie out, now I’m grounded. It just isn’t fair!

  Why do I have to be here? Bet Dad isn’t having all these dramas. Pooh to him. This house is still weird too. This is all too spooky!

  Help!!!! I hope tomorrow is better,

  Turbo was sitting on the floor staring up at the cane chair again.

  “Has that cane chair got you under a spell?” she asked.

  Turbo turned around. Georgia was sure she saw him smile, and he definitely winked. He then jumped up onto the chair and curled up on the cushion.

  “Good night silly cat,” she said turning off her lamp and snuggling down to sleep. Georgia was too annoyed to be scared tonight.

  However, she didn’t sleep well. She tossed and turned most of the night. She dreamed she was riding a horse. It was all lovely for a few minutes, then Mr Bratten was chasing her, but the horse wouldn’t gallop away, it was like slow motion. The horse kept going around and around the gazebo. Her mum and nan were calling for her to stop, and Ellie was sitting in the gazebo nursing and stroking Turbo.

  Georgia woke in fright. For an instant she thought Ellie was sitting in the cane chair watching her. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Ellie was not there, of course. Turbo was curled up on the chair fast asleep. Still feeling tired she lay down and tried to go back to sleep. She must have dozed off for the next thing she heard was her mother opening the drapes.

  GROUNDED

  “Come on sleeping beauty, it’s nearly nine o’clock.”

  Georgia got up and
dressed. She secured her hair into a ponytail with a scrunchie, and then made her way to the kitchen with Turbo at her heels. Her mother cleared the table and began washing dishes as Georgia ate her cereal. The sound of the phone ringing echoed through the kitchen. Beth answered it.

  “Hi Peter. Good, yes she’s here. I’ll put her on. It’s Dad,” said Beth and handed Georgia the phone.

  “Hi Dad,”

  “Hi Princess, how’s it going?”

  “Just great, everything is great,” Georgia said sarcastically. “I’m already grounded, the neighbour hates me and Nan’s not very happy with me either – not bad for one day eh?”

  Her dad was silent on the other end for a moment. Georgia wasn’t sure if he was really listening or just lost for words.

  “I knew you’d like it once you got there – sorry Princess, someone in the office was asking me something. Things are pretty busy around here. What were you saying about Nan and the neighbour?”

  Georgia was right the first time; he hadn’t been listening.

  “Got to go Dad, got lots to do,” said Georgia, she didn’t want to talk if he was too busy to listen.

  “Okay. Ring anytime you want. Love you Princess.”

  “Love you too, Dad.” Georgia wiped a tear from her eye and cleared her throat with a small cough. She didn’t want her mum to see her upset. The last thing she needed was grown ups arguing about her again, and besides she had shed enough tears over her dad. No more.

  “Where’s Nan?” Georgia asked her mum, who was busy making cups of tea.

  “She’s in her study. I’ll be helping her with some paper work this morning, so we’ll be in there if you need us,” said her mum.

  “Mum, who was that man in the ute here yesterday?” asked Georgia. “He seemed to upset Nan.”

  “He certainly did that. He was a surveyor. Bratten had apparently told him that he had all but bought the place and to come and measure up for future development,” said Beth.

  “No wonder Nan was angry last night,” said Georgia.

  “Yes, but her anger is with him and not with you. Anyway it’s grown up stuff you don’t have to concern yourself. Nan’s solicitor and accountant are coming over this afternoon to see if there is any way she can keep the house. Please be a good girl and don’t get into any further trouble, not today,” said her mum with a pleading look on her face.

  “I can’t get into trouble if I’m not allowed to go anywhere,” protested Georgia.

  “That’s right, stay in the house or the yard and we’ll have nothing to worry about. You can sweep Nan’s verandahs if you’re looking for something to do.” With that her mum picked up the two mugs of tea she had just made, smiled at Georgia and headed for the study.

  After stacking her dishes in the dishwasher, Georgia headed outside. She walked around the garden ending up at the gazebo. Turbo, who had followed her, was rubbing himself against her legs.

  “What are we going to do today?” she asked him. “May as well help Nan and sweep,” she said answering her own question. She headed to the rear of the house and picked up a broom by the back door. Nan’s verandahs were quite long; this would take some time.

  Georgia decided to sweep just around each door to begin with. If she didn’t get it finished at least no one would be tracking dust into the house. She swept all the doorways at the rear of the house and then went to the front door.

  Turbo thought it was a game and he tried to catch the broom as Georgia swept. Although this made it harder for Georgia to sweep, she didn’t mind, as it was more like a game and less like work. She swept the cobwebs off the sign by the front door that read Casa d’Amore. It was Italian. Her grandparents named the house when they took over residency shortly after they married. Georgia’s grandfather was of Italian descent. He was born Federico Simeone, but changed it to Fred Simons by deed poll before he married her Nan.

  He had died in the Vietnam War when Beth was about three years old, so she knew very little of her father or his family. Nan always got too upset to speak about him. Georgia had just finished sweeping the front door and steps when something must have caught Turbo’s eye.

  He ran through the long grass stopping at Mr Bratten’s high fence. Georgia dropped her broom and followed. Turbo walked a little way alongside the fence then climbed up into a small apple tree. Georgia watched curiously.

  “What are you up to Turbo?” she wondered out loud. Turbo walked out on a limb of the tree, he looked back at Georgia, blinked and with one great leap jumped clear over the fence and into Mr Bratten’s yard.

  “Turbo!” yelled Georgia. She called out to him a couple of times but he did not come back. Georgia climbed into the apple tree. She was too big to climb high into the tree, as the branches were small and close together. She was just about to get down when she heard a voice.

  “Hello beautiful boy. Have you come for a visit? Or do you just want to get away from that rude girl?” There was no mistaking it. That was Mr Bratten’s voice. “You can come over here anytime you like,” he continued.

  Georgia heard Bratten’s phone ring.

  “Come in if you want, puss,” he said. She then heard Bratten’s voice fade as he answered the phone. Georgia got down out of the tree.

  “Traitor,” she called to Turbo as she walked back to her broom.

  She continued sweeping again, but was starting to get bored with it. Turning the corner on the verandah she remembered the storeroom and how she had not locked the window. The idea of looking at all the old junk in Nan’s storeroom was much more appealing than sweeping. Georgia pushed up on the window but it would not budge. She tried to get her fingers in the gap of the slightly opened window, but she had not left it open far enough and her fingers were too big to fit.

  Looking around the garden she found a flat garden stake. She poked it in the gap and pushed it in far enough so that she could use it as a lever. She then stepped on the length of stake that was sticking out. It worked!

  The window went up a few centimetres, enough for Georgia to slip her hands in, push the window open and crawl through.

  She dusted herself off and started looking through the shelves. She found some old photos. Georgia recognised Nan as one of the teenagers in many of the photos.

  She was often dressed in clothes that Georgia had seen in old rock and roll movies. Tight straight skirts, short sleeved fitted jumpers, always with a brooch at the shoulder. Other women had skirts or dress that stuck right out. There were even photos of young people dancing.

  The photos had been taken in the garden sitting room, the furniture looked the same but most of the chairs have since been removed. The other people must have been her relatives, they looked familiar, but she didn’t know any of them. She recognised the house and the gardens in many of the photos. Just as she had imagined, it did look grand, even the gazebo.

  The family must have been wealthy as many of the photos showed servants. They would be in the background in uniform, or holding onto the reins of horse with a well-dressed rider on its back.

  She found her nan’s wedding photos. Her nan looked just like Georgia’s mum. The groom was the soldier she has seen in other photos. They made a lovely couple. There were photos of her grandparents with a baby. Georgia assumed that it must be her mum. As she was about to turn the page she heard a noise that made her jump and drop the album. Georgia put her hand over her mouth to smother her own scream.

  “Turbo!” she said both annoyed and relieved.

  He had come in through the open window and had knocked down a box spilling the contents on the floor. Georgia quickly began picking up the items. The medals were obviously her grandfather’s. There were pieces of children’s gold jewellery – a bracelet, a brooch and a heart shaped ring – all with initials inscribed EJS.

  Georgia was confused. Her nan’s surname before she married was Macleod; making her initials were EFM. Whose jewellery could it be?

  Georgia suddenly realised she could hear her mum calling her. She plac
ed the jewellery back inside the box and quickly went out through the window. Turbo followed. She pulled the window down, this time leaving enough space for her hand. She started to walk down the verandah as her mother came round the corner.

  “There you are; lunch is ready,” said her mum. “You’ve done a good job sweeping, but come and wash up for lunch.” They walked inside together. Nan had already set the table; three plates with a large helping of tuna casserole and crusty hot bread rolls. Nan made the best tuna casserole Georgia had ever tasted.

  As Georgia reached across the table for the water jug she accidentally knocked her table napkin onto the floor. Bending down to pick it up she noticed Turbo sitting close to Nan’s legs. That’s odd she thought, until she saw Nan’s hand reaching down to give Turbo something to eat. Nan was feeding Turbo at the table! This was so unlike Nan. Georgia was so surprised she bumped her head on the table as she righted herself.

  “Ouch!” yelled Georgia.

  “What on earth are you doing child?” asked Nan who was quickly wiping her hand on her napkin.

  “Nothing,” answered Georgia with a smile. Nan looks guilty thought Georgia; she’s not sure if she has been caught.

  They continued their lunch without further mishap. Her mum and nan reminded Georgia that the solicitor and accountant would be going over some complex details with them later that afternoon. They would both appreciate it if she would keep busy and not interrupt unless it was an emergency.

  “No problem,” said Georgia. “I can find lots to do.” The look she received from both her mum and nan made her add, “I won’t get into trouble or leave the yard!”

  After lunch they cleaned up the dishes together. Georgia couldn’t help but notice the worried look on Nan’s face. She caught her staring out into the garden with tears welling in her eyes. The two women were just about to go back into the study when Georgia ran over to her nan and hugged her.

  “It’ll all be alright. I know it will. I don’t know how I know. I just know,” she said. Georgia felt Nan’s body soften as if she liked the hug, but just as quickly she stiffened again and stepped back.