“Well next time ask child, I would rather you ask, it is very unladylike to enter someone’s personal bedroom without permission.”
She answered sternly.
I apologized and she left to go to the kitchen.
Where was the locket I thought?
I had knocked it onto the floor, then I found it, opened it quickly, I needed to get back fast before she came back.
The tunnel of light beamed across the room.
This was really happening to me.
However, I did feel safe again, but wondered how I new father, as I had called him, had bought her a pen.
Who knows, I thought, so many strange things I could not keep count anymore.
I then heard shouting in the street below, so turned to look.
It was the teenagers just along, shouting about. One of the girls seemed upset with the boys. Obviously as boys do, they had done something to upset her.
My thoughts returned to the locket in my hand.
I felt it was like a dream when I went back, but real when there, so strange, however it was not safe to keep doing this.
It excited me to go; perhaps secretly I enjoyed every experience.
CHAPTER FIVE
About ten o’clock the bell rang again, and when I opened, it was James, looking very casual, never seen him dressed in jeans.’ How cool did he look?
I invited him, in made him coffee, where he started apologizing, for bothering me, so I immediately interrupted, told him to stop.
I was trying to think about something to discuss.
I realized the locket was in my hand so started telling him the story, which he listened to intently.
He was very concerned about my safety and said if this Geoff ever comes again, you call me directly.
Which I agreed, I would. He asked to look at it.
“Amy would you like me to ask my uncle about the locket he has an antiques shop.”
I agreed that would be a great idea.
The next evening he arrived again, rushing past me up the stairs
“Amy I have something to tell you.”
He was looking a little shocked, what could be the matter I thought.
“My uncle is not entirely sure but he thinks this locket is from the eighteenth century”
He said.
“Do you know just how valuable this locket could be, my uncle said it is possibly priceless.”
His uncle was looking into the history of it and would let us know”
James placed the locket on the fireplace and had to leave as he was meeting someone, I did not ask whom, just said goodbye.
The next day at work, I started researching internet sites concerning the eighteenth century to see if I could find anything at all about it.
I was imagining all sorts, a bit carried away.
Decided to get my work done, had not seen James at all he had not come in. As I was on my own, I managed to clear all the papers, and tidy my desk.
Made coffee then sat at the window of the office, watching the street, not so busy today.
Opposite the office stood the old furniture store, been there for years. Called in once with dad, we were looking for a new dining set, but we soon left after seeing their prices, never been in there since.
I usually left at five o’clock, it was half three, so decided to go, was sure James would be ok about it.
The next morning I was up early as I was off to see my nephews in London, it was their birthday; I was travelling up by train so I set off for the station, rushing a little as I always did when catching a train, even though I had tons of time.
As I turned from my flat into the street, I looked up I almost bumped into a woman, stood in front of me, she touched my arm, she had long black hair, with a scarf tied around it, long skirt.
She said, “Are you Amy?”
I replied, “Yes I am, do I know you?”
“No, we have never met.”, she answered.
“I am Zoë’s mother, can we talk, and I really need to speak to you please”
I had plenty of time so I took her back to my flat, I made her tea, and she told me Zoë had disappeared there was no trace of her anywhere, and the police had no idea where she had gone.
The police had told her they had found her bag and in it, a diary and my name listed. I asked her where she thought she had gone and she said she believed she was dead, as she would have contacted her.
She also said she new Zoë was a prostitute, but had a job recently, as she was trying to turn her life around. She was a loving daughter to her and that is all that counted in her book.
I agreed, thinking of my mum with sadness.
I told her I had not seen Zoë for a few days and I did not really know her. She was just an acquaintance not a friend as such, which made her look sad, but what else could I say to this woman, it was not my place, I did not get to know Zoë, just a passing moment in time I would rather forget.
Suddenly she blurted out,
“Have you still got the locket?”
Before I answered, she said.
“Please can I see it”?
Therefore, without thinking I picked it up, and placed it in her hand.
As I did tears flowed down her smooth rosy cheeks, her eyes full to the brim with tears, it upset me greatly to see her like this, and I had a lump in my throat, I was on the verge of bursting in to tears myself.
Her hands were shaking as she opened the locket; she gazed at the photograph.
Suddenly my thoughts were ‘Why is the room not changing’?
“See it is her, my great, great, grandmother, she is so beautiful her name was Anastasia and look my great grandmother Anna Maria she is the child here.”
She had turned her hand, for me to see the locket more clearly.
We sat and she started telling me the story about their lives.
As she talked, I was thinking.
‘How come nothing happened could not stop thinking about it.’
She said Anastasia was in love with a man, but no one knew who he was, only that he was very famous at that time, and the child Anna Maria was there love child, as well as a son a bit older. That is where she and Zoë came from; they were direct relatives of Anastasia.
This was unbelievable, but it is true I had met them, little did she know, and I was not about to tell her at all about it.
She closed the locket and handed it to me, and said “Take care of it, keep it safe, that’s what Zoë wanted, I know she is lost, but she is with the people who love her and she is no longer in pain.”
I asked her why no one knew of the locket and of Anastasia, and there love relationship.
She replied.
“No one has ever known the secret it has stayed a secret within our family, and it must, forever, please don’t tell anyone, it is imperative to keep this quiet”.
I told her.
“You must take it; it is yours by right.”
However, she replied,
“No I do not want it, keep it.”
She then added,
“You will never ever see me again, take care of yourself, and be happy.”
Then she rushed down the stairs.
I soon realized I had missed my train, so immediately phoned my brother and made my excuses, which I was a little sad about as I was looking forward to seeing my nephews, but another time, I will get to see them soon.
I am sure they would not miss me, with all the gifts they would be receiving from others.
I sat and thought about the locket and tried to think what my mum would have done, it was such a sad story. Should it stay in the past?
I decided I would research thoroughly, somewhere there must be a mention of Anastasia, somewhere in history.
I sat and started the biggest internet search of all time, sending to experts asking if the name meant anything to anyone. All the replies were the same, nobody had ever heard of this name Anastasia.
In fact, I had a few emails back, who thou
ght I was a bit of a nutcase.
I learnt so much, digesting everything I read. However, to no avail, I was back to square one.
Again, I had another thought. Why had the room not dimmed when Zoë’s mother had opened it? Perhaps I would try it again, if nothing happens, I could put this story to rest.
I assume I was fast becoming addicted to this dream.
So I sat on my window ledge and opened the locket once more, as I opened it wider the light dimmed, it was amazing, but the room was a little lighter this time, nobody around, so I rose to my feet and walked towards the fireplace.
The large picture hanging there I now realize was obviously her gentleman friend, he was quite the gentry in the picture, he was holding a walking stick, he looked very elegant, balding on top slightly, with silver grey hair.
As I looked at the picture, the door at the side of me opened, and in he walked, I jumped back startled.
Then he spoke.
“Hello me dear, been looking for you, where’s your mother.”
Then he gazed into my eyes, with so much affection.
He took my hand and gently kissed my palm. I stood amazed, I could not speak, a bit tongue-tied I said.
“Oh father she has just popped along to see Mr. Abbot about some fish, she is cooking us a lovely dinner this evening, and she knows you like a nice piece of fish.”
He replied.
“Oh that is good, how are you Anna?”
I replied.
“Fine father, are you staying long?
He replied.
“No more questions go now let father read his newspaper.”
As I started to head for the door, he grabbed my hand.
“My dear you are looking so much like your mother every day, you are fast becoming the young woman, and the years are taking you through time, relish these days, as they will never be again.”
I went to the kitchen butterflies in my tummy, and glanced around, it was eerily cold, everything so dark, there lay a wooden board with bread, and cheese in large dish. I composed myself, and then returned to the lounge where father sat with his newspaper.
As I entered, he spoke and told me to sit with him, so I sat opposite on the sofa, and he began reading to me a newspaper report.
He read ‘A young man who had lost his life, his name was Sydney Pilkington.
A carriage, in a street in London, had knocked him down; he had received very serious injuries and had died.
He then told me that Sydney was the son of his friends Harold and Iris Pilkington, and that he had met Sydney many times.
“Sydney was not of the smartest appearance.”
He said, and then added.
“Sydney used to wear his shirt unbuttoned at the neck and when he spoke his throat used to jerk up and down as though he had a ball inside.”
Then he smiled slightly.
He wore little round glasses on the end of his nose, and looked up when he spoke to me.
He was very sad to hear of this news. He added he would be writing to Harold and Iris about this to offer his condolences, also to learn the funeral arrangements.
I was very sad to hear this story of a young man like that losing his life, so tragically, funny I thought, it was as though I knew these people.
Father looked so sad.
“Go now child, leave me now, I need to write a letter and I wish not to be disturbed.
I then left father to his newspaper.
Decided to have another look around, there was another door off the hallway, so quietly opened it, I crept in there was another bedroom, but whose could this be?
A painting large gazed at me, there stood a man about twentyish in a police officer’s uniform, very good looking. His hat wedged under his arm, a top hat. His jacket was long with a wide leather belt.
I had not seen him before. Could he be there son?
Thought I would just check around a bit, on the cupboard another picture of a girl, with blonde ringlets.
Opened the top drawer, handkerchiefs, and braces, weird some of these stuff men had at this time.
The bookshelves were bursting, full of books.
Then I heard a noise, people talking, so I tried to peep out the edge of the door.
It was he the bloke in the picture, laughing, with Anastasia, as they walk to the kitchen,
So I scamp out the room tiptoeing.
As I get to my bedroom door, he shouts.
“Caught you, Anna, where have you been?
I was searching for you earlier.
Stuttering I whispered
“Hello John, I must have been in my room, I have been writing a letter to my friend, Evelyn, You know the one who lives in Chatham.”
“Oh I did knock.”
“How would you like, to accompany me to the police station. I have to go there to collect some papers.”
I immediately answered.
“Yes please”
He said, “Better ask Father first, wait there”
Off he went to the sitting room where Father was reading. The door closed behind him. I then recalled that we must always shut the doors, as the cold draught from the stairway travelled into the rooms rapidly.
He then returned saying
“Come quickly, before mother calls you for the chores, you know she will call you soon.”
I grabbed my coat from the hall peg and ran after him, a bit difficult with the dress to the floor.
As we reached the street, he turned.
“Anna, take your apron off, quickly take it off now?
I ripped it off and stuffed it in my pocket and run after him. We went right, started walking, I was here in the street this was amazing.
It must have been around the eighteen hundreds, eighteen fiftyish I reckon by what they are wearing.
Top hats, the women’s dresses to the floor, and they had tiny umbrellas. Urchin kids everywhere, begging,
Women carried little bags on their arms, some had baskets filled with vegetables and bread.
The place stank, like smelly sewers. No one else seemed to notice, but I was reaching.
John did not notice me peering at him as we walked, how did I know he was my brother?
Strange I thought but exciting never less.
.We reached Star Hill, was hard to cross the road, every time we stepped out a carriage roared by.
I call it a road more like a mud track. Only the buildings made it look like a street.
We went round the corner, into Corporation Street. Into a building on the left, I just followed.
As we walked, my boots hurt, my feet were killing me, squeezing my toes tight.
He told me to sit on the bench, so I slowly sat down. Next to me sat a woman, as she turned to me, she glanced at me looking up and down. Then she spoke
”Hello darling, what you ere for then”
As she spoke, I could not but notice her teeth.
‘Boy do you need to see a dentist urgently’
Her teeth black, her face dirty looking, and her hair well, imagine rolling straw into a ball and sticking it on your head, well that is what she looked like.
Her clothing, shabby, dirty but she did have some nice earrings with necklace to match. She wore dirty fingerless gloves, her nails filthy.
I answered her.
“I’m not here for nothing, just waiting for my brother”
She then said putting her hand on mine.
“Don’t trust anyone ere, if you want my advice, tell em nothink, nothink at all”
I turned away from her, thinking she is a nutcase better ignore her. She kept jumping around.
As I glance up, the cop on the desk, smiles at me, then he gives me a little wink. I turn away embarrassed, he must know who I am I thought.
At that moment John appears, smiling from ear to ear-carrying papers in his hand. He ushers me to follow him towards the door.
When we get outside, he had excitement in his voice; he then tells me he has been, promoted to a new job,
patrolling the streets in the high street where we live. Strange I thought as that is what I thought he done anyway, but then he goes on to say, no more travelling to Canterbury and staying for weeks at a time.
Mother will be elated to hear the news.
I asked why he had been in Canterbury all the time and he said he always wanted to work the streets of Rochester, but unfortunately, to work there he needed far more experience than he had, but now his ready for the experience, his dream job at last.
At the hearing of this news, I was very proud of my new brother, so unlike my other brother Tom, John was a little rough around the edges, whereas Tom was clean cut.
It then dawned on me.
‘What the hell are you doing here? This is not your place, go home now’
John told me to link arms with him and off we walked towards home. He was very happy after hearing this news, must have been waiting a long while.
I shared his smiles, as we walked and talked, him telling me of his plans. He then mentioned Isabella, must be his girl I thought.
She worked in a shop selling hats in Strood, her father also was a police officer in the London area, and John hoped to become engaged to her very soon. He also reminded me that was a secret between us as mother and father would not approve at this time, saying they were both so young.
I agreed it was our secret and I would not tell.
We arrived home; John whispered, blowing his fingers
“Remember our secret Anna.”
We entered and removed our coats, as we did father called out. “Is that you, John my son”?
He replied, “Yes father, I will be just in to see you, have some news”.
He grabbed my hand
“Come Anna; let’s share the news with them both.”
They were both seated, father in his chair and mother crocheting on the sofa.
As we went in Mother rose to greet us, then sat as John had told her to.
John then told them about the promotion.
Mothers eyes lit up, she almost dived off the sofa into his arms, almost teary. Father a bit slower also rose up and shook hands with his son.
It all seemed a bit too personal; to me they were not my real family, so I should leave them now to celebrate their news.
I felt a bit like an actor, playing a part in a film, pretending these people were my family, and they doing the same.
Secrets of the Past Page 4
