The Secret of the Stone House

by Judith Silverthorne

  Reaching the back of the house, she worked out where the hole with the carving should be, near the back door, and found it covered with plants. Kneeling in the flower bed, she pushed aside the geraniums and hollyhocks to reach the foundation wall. The hole was there.

  “What are you doing, Emily?” Her mom startled her, coming around the corner.

  Emily let the flowers go and jumped to her feet.

  “You’ve either taken a very sudden interest in gardening, or you have a weird fascination for stone walls,” her mom continued.

  “Uh, I was just looking at the construction,” Emily said quickly, brushing the dirt off her knees.

  “And you’re in the flower bed because?” Kate asked, perplexed.

  Emily ignored the direct question. “Did you know this house has rough-faced walls? They weren’t all built the same.”

  “I never thought about it,” Kate said matter-of-factly.

  “Some of them were built with smoother surfaces,” Emily edged her way past her mother, hoping to lead her away from the special hole in the foundation.

  “I suppose Donald’s been filling your head full of stone building facts!”

  “I’m just interested, is all,” Emily said, hoping to avoid any further discussion.

  “Well, I guess it can’t hurt,” said her mom.

  Emily tried to change the subject. “Can we call Uncle Ian now?”

  “We already did,” said her mom. “We couldn’t find you when we came back. I thought I told you to stay put!”

  “I was here all the time,” Emily said, crossing her fingers behind her back as she told her not-quite lie. She really had been here at the house, so that part was at least true.

  “Well, we couldn’t find you!”

  “I was probably just poking around somewhere,” Emily suggested.

  Kate shook her head. “You must stop gallivanting all over!”

  Emily walked ahead with a hint of smile on her face as she recalled Kate in the past saying the very same thing to Molly. “So what did Uncle Ian say?”

  “He wasn’t there. I left a message,” said her mom.

  “Then, can I call Dad now?”

  “Give it another hour – until after six – so it’s cheaper,” her mom called out to her retreating back. “You can help get supper on!”

  Emily let the screen door slam as she entered the veranda. Do this, do that; her mom was always so bossy! Her scowl disappeared when she remembered the exchange between Kate and Beth in the past. Things didn’t seem to have changed much from one life to another.

  When she at last telephoned her dad, Emily found him in a good mood.

  “We just heard that we’ve secured some substantial grants for our new research project,” she heard him say.

  “Wonderful, Dad,” Emily responded. “Does that mean you’ll be home more, so I can visit?”

  “Well, sorry pumpkin, but I’ll actually have to travel more often for a while, gathering all the samples and materials,”

  “When will I see you, then?” she asked, feeling a lump growing in her throat.

  Hesitantly, he answered, “I’m not sure, Em, but as soon as I’m done the bulk of the exploration, I could take some time off. We could take a little holiday together, say in a couple of months. How would that be?”

  A huge disappointed sigh escaped from Emily before she could stop it. She felt her eyes watering, and she clutched the phone.

  “Okay, Dad,” she said, trying not to let her voice crack.

  “Great!” Apparently he hadn’t noticed the sigh.

  “I have to go now, Dad,” she said quickly. “Aunt Liz needs to use the phone.” She gave him the first excuse that came to her mind.

  “Well, all right, then,” he sounded surprised. “I’ll talk to you again soon, okay, Emily?”

  “Okay,” she said quietly.

  “I love you, pumpkin,” her dad ended on an upbeat note, although she thought she detected a little sadness too.

  “Love you too, Dad,” Emily said, her voice breaking. She hung up the phone and went upstairs, before anyone could see her.

  She only made it to the second floor before the ache in her throat gave way. Going into the bathroom, she closed the door and burst into tears. She wasn’t important in her dad’s life. She wouldn’t see much of him from now on, she just knew it. Why did her parents have to divorce? Her whole life was wretched.

  “Emily?” her mother’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Are you all right?”

  Hurriedly, she mopped at her eyes with a towel.

  “I’m okay,” Emily’s voice came out muffled.

  “Are you sure?” her mom asked quietly. “Can I come in?”

  “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Let me see you,” persisted her mother.

  “Just give me a couple of minutes,” Emily turned on the tap and splashed her face with water. “I’ll be right down.”

  “Okay, then.”

  She heard her mom going downstairs.

  When she stepped into the kitchen, her mom and aunt looked at her with concern. Emily grabbed a tea towel and began drying forks and knives. She fumbled them into the utensil drawer, unable to see clearly. She kept her head down as she worked, letting her hair fall into her face.

  “What did your dad say?” her mom asked from across the kitchen, obviously trying to decide whether to come to her or not.

  “He’s too busy to see me.” She took a deep breath. “He’s going on a research trip for two months.”

  As Emily brushed past her mom, she struggled to keep her emotions in check. Her mom reached out and put her arm around her shoulders, holding her close. Emily tried to think of other things, looking out the window at the sun lowering on the horizon, looking at the clock ticking, anything to keep from breaking down again.

  Emily felt her mom’s chin resting on the top of her head, as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Em.”

  “I’m okay, Mom,” she said, breaking away and returning to dry the glasses sitting on the drainboard.

  As Aunt Liz washed the plates in the sink next to her, Emily felt her nose begin to run. She swiped at it with her hand, struggling to keep her mind occupied. All of a sudden, tears blinded her and she couldn’t see the plates she was reaching for.

  “Aw, sweetie,” Aunt Liz grabbed the tea towel and quickly wiped the suds off her hands, then gathered Emily into her arms. She hugged her tightly.

  Emily blubbered into her aunt’s shoulder, as her mom snatched up several Kleenexes and pressed them into her hands. She dabbed at Emily’s eyes, and brushed her hair soothingly out of her face.

  “Come sit down,” Kate tugged her gently towards the table, and hastily drew a chair out for her.

  Emily let her mom and aunt coddle her. Her mom pulled out another chair and sat close to her, while Aunt Liz brought her a glass of water.

  “Just because he’s got work to do, doesn’t mean he doesn’t care,” Kate said softly.

  “I know,” Emily nodded her head and blew her nose. “I just wanted to see him.”

  Kate gave her some fresh tissues. “I know, Em, but you can phone him lots.”

  “Okay,” Emily said, knowing it wasn’t the same thing, but that it was the best that could be done.

  Feeling more subdued, she wiped her eyes, gave her nose another blow and took a long sip of water. Then she smiled at her mom and aunt. “I’ll be fine.”

  She stood up.

  “That’s my girl!” her mom patted her on the shoulders.

  Aunt Liz handed the tea towel back to her with a grin.

  “Sympathy doesn’t get me out of the dishes, huh?”

  “Nice try,” said her aunt, laughing.

  Although Emily still felt a deep sadness, she also felt comforted by the closeness of the three of them as they worked in the kitchen together.

  “Guess we’ll have to be up by dawn to make sure everything is ready for the auction tomorrow,” her mom broke the silence.


  “Not a problem,” said Emily, glad to be thinking of something else.

  “Could you be the gofer between us all tomorrow?” Aunt Liz asked kindly.

  “Uh, I guess so,” Emily said, half-heartedly. How would she ever escape to the past if they kept her constantly busy? She wanted to go to Sandy’s wedding. “What would I have to do?”

  “Just make sure the women serving the lunch don’t need anything, maybe run messages back and forth between the auctioneers and us,” said Aunt Liz.

  “Just as long as I get to see everything going on,” Emily added, realizing that she didn’t want to miss anything, anywhere. How was she going to be in two places at once?

  The ringing of the telephone cut into their conversation.

  “Ian, how nice to hear your voice,” Aunt Liz said.

  Hanging up the tea towel, Emily listened while her aunt explained to Uncle Ian about the key and the missing box. He was several years older than Aunt Liz and Aunt Maggie.

  “You remember? Wonderful!” Aunt Liz listened some more.

  Emily felt her pulse quicken. Her mom moved in closer, trying to eavesdrop.

  “I had no idea!” Aunt Liz talked for a few more moments, and then handed the phone to Kate.

  “There’s a loose stone in the fireplace in the living room,” Aunt Liz whispered.

  Excitement bubbled inside Emily as she danced towards the hallway. Kate quickly ended the conversation, eyeing Emily and Aunt Liz as they headed to the living room.

  “Wait up, you two!” Kate caught up to them just as they reached the fireplace.

  “He said it’s...” Aunt Liz stopped abruptly as Emily dropped to her knees.

  She’d suddenly remembered the extra space Jack and Duncan had left in the base of the fireplace as they were building it. She knew exactly which spot it should be in. Would the hidden box be there?

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Emily, how could you know where to look?” Aunt Liz asked her sharply, sinking to the floor beside her.

  “Just a good guess,” Emily said as she pushed on one of the stones.

  “You are one strange kid,” Aunt Liz squeezed in beside her.

  Her mom knelt on the other side, looking at a fine crack in the mortar around one of the stones. “It has to be right here, about where Emily is.”

  “It probably hasn’t been moved for years. I don’t recall Mom or Dad ever showing us this or opening it,” said Aunt Liz.

  They struggled to move the stone, but nothing worked.

  “Maybe we need a crowbar?” suggested Kate.

  “No,” Emily exclaimed. “That would wreck it!”

  “I think she’s right,” Aunt Liz said. “There don’t seem to be any pry marks on the surface.”

  “It’s another one of those mystery latches, I suppose,” Kate said in exasperation.

  Emily moved along the base of the fireplace, pushing and prodding all the stones, but nothing budged the one she knew covered the secret opening.

  “Maybe Ian was wrong!” Kate said, sitting back on her heels.

  “He seemed pretty certain,” said Aunt Liz, tapping at the stones.

  “This has to be it!” Emily declared.

  “How could you know that?” Kate demanded.

  “I just do!” Emily wasn’t about to explain.

  They searched every inch of the fireplace, on the surface, on the mantel, and inside the firebox, looking for some kind of latch or trigger, but after another half-hour passed, they gave up.

  “Maybe we should call Ian again,” Kate suggested.

  “He told us all he knew,” said Aunt Liz. “He had no idea how it worked, just where it was supposed to be. He doesn’t even know if there’s anything inside it.”

  Emily groaned. Wasn’t anyone in her family curious? How could they not know some of these things? She stared again at the fireplace. Everything was solid and immovable. How had her great-grandfather designed the hidden space? All at once, Emily’s face brightened. She could go back in time and find out.

  “Maybe it’s written down somewhere,” proposed Aunt Liz.

  “We went through all the papers quite thoroughly,” Kate answered. “I don’t see how we’d have missed something like that.”

  “Maybe because we weren’t looking for it,” Aunt Liz chided. “I know exactly where the papers are. I’ll get them.”

  Kate followed Aunt Liz out of the room to a second-floor bedroom. Emily had other plans.

  “I’m going out for a walk before bed,” she called up to them, determined to find out how to open the hidden compartment. She just hoped the new plan would work to get her there faster.

  “Don’t be gone long!” her mother yelled back.

  I don’t plan on it, Emily thought to herself as she whisked out the door and headed for the special hole in the foundation. She didn’t waste any time, grubbing through the flower bed getting to the wall in search of Geordie’s carved bird.

  She peered into the dark hole and at first saw nothing. Picking up a small stick from the ground, she prodded gently inside. If the bird was there, she didn’t want to come into direct contact with it. She wanted to be prepared in case she went shooting back into the past. At last, she felt the stick nudge something. She wiggled it towards her, holding her breath in anticipation, as the object neared the edge. She gasped in surprise.

  Yes, it was the carved bird, but it was dull-looking, greyed and weathered – not at all like the fresh carving she had seen earlier. Of course, it had been there for nearly a century, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

  She focused on her immediate task. Rubbing her hands on her jeans, she licked her lips and steadied herself, touching the house for support. Then she reached out and grasped the small carving. At the same time, she lost her footing and fell backwards. She landed on her butt and let out a little screech. She was looking at the same stone wall of the house, but she was in the past, sitting in the rubble and dirt surrounding the construction site, in the twilight.

  Quickly, she got to her feet and looked about. She shook the debris off and crept around to the front of the house, looking for signs of human life. As she rounded the last corner, she heard a low whistle, almost like a birdcall. Peering through the dusk, she made out the dim figure of Geordie at the pigpen, waving to her.

  As she walked across the yard, she admired the workmanship of the willow branches tightly woven into a fence that held the pigs in their pen. How simple, she thought, realizing they didn’t have access to any kind of wire fencing. She laughed quietly over the grunting of the pigs as they rooted at their feed in the trough, reaching Geordie moments later.

  “Your plan worked!” she said.

  “I’m so glad, lass! And so is Sorcha.”

  The dog had appeared from the shadows, licking Emily’s hands and looking as if she’d welcome a run across the prairie.

  “You’re a good dog,” Emily said, stroking her head. “I wonder how you got your name.”

  “Sorcha means ‘radiant,’” Geordie said. “She’s got that little bit of gold in her coat – like a streak of sun.”

  “That’s a wonderful name,” Emily said.

  “And your first word of Gaelic,” Geordie said. “But you’re too early for the wedding. It’s not for two more days.”

  “I know,” she said breathlessly. “I came to ask you a question.”

  “Ask me, then.” He grinned at her, perching on the step that led into the pig shelter. “As you can see, I’m doing my favourite work.”

  Emily grinned at him. “You’ll be doing harder work soon enough, I’d guess, with Sandy getting married,” she said.

  “Aye, you may be right.” Geordie tapped the space on the step beside him. “But I have two more older brothers, and they are almost finished the house, so I don’t suppose they’ll give me anything important to do.”

  Emily sat beside him, absently patting the dog. “I need to know about the secret hiding place in the fireplace,” she said. “How does it work?�
��

  Geordie laughed. “How do you know about it? We haven’t even finished it yet.”

  “But you will, and you must know how it’s going to work!” Emily insisted.

  “Not really, lass,” he said. “My dad is a secretive person; he’s still working out the details and not likely to tell me.”

  “Could we take a look? Maybe we could figure it out.”

  Geordie shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose, but I don’t think there is much to see.” They walked towards the house.

  “Where is the rest of the family? Inside?”

  “No, they’ve gone home for supper, except for...”

  Emily shrieked as Kate came around the corner. She had almost walked into her. Sorcha barked and circled Kate. Thank goodness they hadn’t collided. Emily didn’t know what would have happened, and she didn’t want to.

  “Geordie, are you talking to ghosts now?” Kate asked peering around.

  Geordie shook his head and dropped his hand to his side. Emily kept still, not moving a muscle. Sorcha licked her hand. Emily shook her head, but of course it had no effect.

  “Well, come on then, I’ve finished with those blasted chickens.”

  Emily knew Kate meant she’d been shooing the last of the chickens inside the henhouse, before closing them in for the night.

  “I want to check that the house is secure, and then I’ll come,” he said dismissing his sister.

  “Come now,” she said, “the house is fine, and don’t you know it. Mum will be crosser than a disturbed wood grouse if we’re late for supper again.”

  Geordie looked out of the corner of his eye at Emily. She shrugged her shoulders and mouthed, “Go.”

  Geordie sighed. “Can’t a man do anything without being ordered around?”

  “First, you’re not a man,” Kate chuckled, “and second, what’s so important?”

  In the dim light, Emily could see Geordie blush. “You’re overstepping your bounds, little lass,” he said with a touch of annoyance.

  “What would you have me do?” She stood with her hands on her hips.