by Peter Wilson
Jack Gregson & the Forgotten Portal
Copyright 2015 Peter Wilson
Published by Peter Wilson at Smashwords
Cover Illustration by Blake Girven
Smashwords Edition License Notes
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Table of Contents
Chapter One: Dynamite
Chapter Two: The Discovery
Chapter Three: The Attic
Chapter Four: The Rear Garden
Chapter Five: Answers
Chapter Six: The Door Opens
Chapter Seven: Run!
Chapter Eight: Gratins
Chapter Nine: Travelling the Grotto
Chapter Ten: Bowlandose
Chapter Eleven: Chaos
Chapter Twelve: Magic
Chapter Thirteen: Coran
Chapter Fourteen: The Book's Secret
Chapter Fifteen: The Forgotten Portal
Chapter Sixteen: Diamond Lake
Chapter Seventeen: Quick Exit
Chapter Eighteen: Chaos Reigns
Chapter Nineteen: Home
Chapter Twenty: The Wardens of Gregson Manor
Epilogue
Chapter One
Dynamite
Jack ran, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.
Boom!
He twisted his body as he fell, looking back at the door as he landed hard on the ground. Through the smoke he could see it was still there, with not a mark on it.
“No way!” said David, throwing his cap to the ground. “I really thought we had it then.”
“What’d you expect? That you’d be the first Gregson in ten generations to get the door open? Jack, are you OK?” Rosie said the three questions in quick succession as she rubbed her hands together to warm them.
“Yeah fine,” Jack replied as he got up and dusted himself off. The fall had given his jeans and t-shirt grass stains, and some mulch and dirt clung to his curly brown hair.
He stretched his arms and legs, making sure none of the pains he felt were serious.
“It was dynamite,” David muttered under his breath. “Freaking Dynamite! That door shouldn’t be there. The whole wall shouldn’t be there!” his muttering had turned into slight hysteria, and Jack had to stop himself from laughing as his chubby cousin continued his rant while running up to the door. It stood there as it had before, looking as solid as ever. The only evidence that the dynamite had gone off was the plume of smoking drifting up into the sky.
The door in the Western Gardens of the Gregson Manor has been a family curiosity and secret for generations. Jack, like all of the family’s children had been brought up with fantastic stories of what lay beyond the door, told by his aunties, uncles and grand parents.
While other families read to their children from books, Jack had gone to bed with true tales of monsters, wizards and fantastical beasts as his bedtime stories, handed down through his family over hundreds of years.
As he got older, he wondered more and more whether the stories could possibly be true, believing a little less each year. The only thing that kept them alive for him was the door itself. Locked for countless years, no matter what the Gregson’s tried, nothing could get it open. The fact that dynamite had not even left a mark, meant that it had to be magic.
“We need to go,” Rosie said while picking up her bag. “The explosion might have woken mum and dad, and you know they’ll kill us if they find out it was dynamite we set off and not fire crackers.”
“I didn’t set off anything. Jack did,” David casually replied as he bent down and scooped up his cap.
“We drew straws!”
“It doesn’t matter if no one knows. So let’s get out of here.” Rosie finished the argument before it could begin. At eleven years old she was two years younger than her brother David, and her cousin Jack but she had a knack for getting what she wanted.
Except when it came to the dynamite. She’d tried talking them out of using that for hours the previous night, but here they were at six a.m. in the chilly Autumn dawn, freezing their bottoms off.
“Let’s go then. Great Uncle Peter will want to know how we went,” David said as he started off towards the main house.
Gregson Manor was built in the 1500’s, making it extremely old and due to the families finances, a little rundown. The three-story mansion stood in the centre of the property, surrounded by four main gardens: The Western Garden, The Eastern Garden, The Front Garden and The Rear Garden. Considering the place came with a door that was magic, Jack had always thought the family could have put more imagination into the naming of them. He often thought that once he owned and ran the manor, he’d call them all something more exciting.
The East and West Gardens were massive, each the size of a large football field. They were also almost identical in every way. Each had multiple paths throughout them, weaving their way through sitting areas, large statues and garden beds of different plants and flowers.
Both had a great staircase leading down to them from the main house. At the base of each was a long wall; the only difference between the two being that one had the mysterious door and the other did not.
Once you turned from the wall to each of the main gardens, you came to a grand marble table capable of seating eighteen people, which overlooked each of the gardens beyond.
Today was a special occasion. In a matter of hours, the whole Gregson family would sit at the large table in the Western Garden, and have their annual get together with food, drinks and games.
Cousins near and far would travel to the family home and stay for the weekend.
The adults would join together and re-tell fantastic tales from a time their ancestors could travel beyond the door, and then debate between themselves about the history, accuracy and timelines of the stories.
Meanwhile their children would hunt the grounds for the missing key that opened the door, scouring every room in the house, every nook and cranny of the garden. Even though they never found it, it was Jack’s favourite part of the day.
After the hunt they would feast and then the games would begin. Most of them revolved around trying to get the door open. Some favourites were trying to pick the lock, smash it with a battering ram, or coax it open with secret knocks. The same sorts of things were tried every year. Everyone wanted to be the one to get the door open, and the annual event was where some friendly family competitiveness came out.
Jack was pretty sure this was the first time dynamite had been tried though and it was all thanks to his eccentric Great Uncle. It had been his idea to use it and he’d supplied it. Considering that he rarely left the house or had visitors, Jack had no idea where he’d gotten it from. He did know that if Grandma or his Aunty Mauve found out, none of their lives would be worth living.
The kids reached the top of the stairs and turned towards the Front Garden. While not as big as the West and East gardens, it was still very large and the most well maintained of the four. It was a large field of grass, with a 60-metre pebble driveway splitting it right down the middle, from black iron gates at the roadside, right up to the front of the house. There were potted plants, placed at ten metre intervals on both sides of the driveway, a red bloom of roses in each that Jack had helped his Grandma plant at the beginning of sprin
g.
Jack had grown up with his Grandmother and Great Uncle on the property, moving to boarding school when he was twelve. Now when he returned for holidays, he earned his pocket money helping in the gardens driving the lawn mower, sweeping and weeding to keep it presentable for guests.
He found himself doing many chores, as he got older, being told it was character building and that he would grow into a man his parents would be proud of. He had tried pointing out this was impossible as his mother had died on the day he was born. His dad had also abandoned Jack right after her death, so why should he care what his father thought?
He soon learned this tactic resulted in more work as it upset his Grandma, which in turn made his Great Uncle angry with him, so he’d stopped trying that angle and went about doing his chores as efficiently as possible so he had more time for himself.
They continued their walk to the front door and crept into the house. The foyer was designed as a sitting room for guests as they waited for their hosts to greet them. Back when the Gregson’s had more money and could afford staff, the butler would bring them in and seat them on one of the two lounges and offer them tea.
The walls were made of wood panelling and there were racks against them for winter boots and cloaks. In more recent times a bathroom had been added for their guests to use.
“Let’s use the passages,” David said as he walked towards the coat rack. “It doesn’t look like we caused an alarm but better to keep out of sight”.
There were six hooks on the rack and all looked exactly the same. David grabbed the far left one and twisted it to the right until they heard a “click”.
One of the wood panels on the wall suddenly swung open to reveal a dark passageway.
They stepped into the darkness and Jack closed the panel behind them, the coat hook snapping back into place in the now empty foyer.
“Nobody ever puts the bloody torch back in its place.”
“Here, use my phone,” Rosie said while rummaging through her bag. She found it, turned on the light and gave it to Jack.
“Thanks,” he replied grabbing it and pointing it down the dusty, narrow corridor as he continued walking.
“Whoever built these passages should have added lights,” David declared.
“There wasn’t electricity back then moron,“ Rosie replied. “Most of the passages were planned and built when the house was first constructed over 500 years ago.”
“My little sister, the history professor…”
“Shush. Anyway, I found a book in the library that says that some of the upstairs passages were built more recently by our great-great Grandpa William.”
“A book about the house? Who would bother writing a book about a house?” David asked.
“Dunno,” replied Rosie. “It doesn’t say who it’s by, but it’s huge! It has chapters on every room and goes into immense detail. For instance, you know the passageway that has a spy hole into the kitchen? Grandpa William apparently had that installed because he thought one of his maids was stealing pastries.”
“He sounds nutty. Too much time on his hands if you ask me,” replied David.
“Quiet,” whispered Jack as they approached a chair facing the wall, one of the many spying stations throughout the passageways. “I think I can hear your Mum.”
Jack sat down on the chair, put his eye to the spy hole and looked down on the room below. His Aunty Mauve - David and Rosie’s Mum, was in the main living room standing with her back to Jack, wearing a pink floral dressing gown that was easily three sizes too small for her, making her butt look huge. A pink towel was wrapped around her head, with pink slippers completing the brightly offensive outfit.
“Alice! Alice! Where is that woman?” Aunty Mauve yelled out at no one in particular.
“I’m coming Mrs Gregson!” Alice called as she shuffled down the hall. Alice was the Gregson Manors last remaining staff member. She was once in charge of a whole household of staff including a butler, cooks, gardeners and cleaners. Now she was the last one left.
For most of the year she just had to look after their Grandmother and her brother, Great Uncle Peter, as well as Jack for the school holidays, but with all the relatives converging on the house for the annual festivities, she had her hands full.
“Have the flowers arrived? What about the caterers? Bob! Bob get up! I need your help!” Mrs Gregson started walking out of the room in search of her husband, with Alice walking along behind her.
“The flowers and food won’t be here for hours, it’s only 6:15 Mrs Gregson...” Alice called out after her.
“Looks like Aunty Mauve has already started getting everything ready for lunch,” Jack said, getting up from the chair.
“Mum loves organising a party,” replied Rosie.
“And bossing everyone around while doing it,” added David.
“Let’s go,” Jack said as he continued down the passage. He reached the end, coming to a ladder leading upwards. There were no staircases in the secret passages, so this would take them to the second floor and then it was just a short trip to the entrance in their Great Uncle’s room.
They climbed the ladder, walked down another dark dusty corridor, until they reached a small panel in the wall that was open a crack. Jack pulled the it open and crawled through.
“Back so soon?” An old mans voice called out.
“Yes Uncle,” replied Jack as he stumbled out of the wardrobe. Not only was the secret doorway small, the wardrobe it was hidden in was cluttered with a large assortment of clothes, hats, hankies and shoes. Everything stank of mothballs.
“Did it work?” He asked excitedly.
“It didn’t make a dent,” replied David dramatically.
Their Uncle frowned and lay back further into his pillows, of which there were many. The bed was huge, with four large posts at each corner. He wore dark blue Pyjamas covered in comets and stars, which were obviously designed for a much younger man, if not a child. “I was sure it would work,” he said.
“That’s what I said!” David replied annoyed.
“Well,” their uncle said bleakly. “Hopefully someone will manage to open it later today,”
Jack moved closer to the bed and said softly, as almost afraid to mention it, “No one has managed to open the door in hundreds of years Uncle. Not even dynamite worked. Do you really think someone will get it open today?”
“Something has changed boy. I don’t know what but Gregson Manor feels…wrong. I feel that if we could get the door open, we could somehow fix whatever it is.” He sighed, “But the house doesn’t seem to agree and perhaps we should trust it knows what it’s doing and stop trying to force it. If it needs our help, it will guide someone to the door. The stories say it has in the past, so it will do so again.”
“Uncle, what do you mean about the house showing us the way. It’s just a house….” Rosie began, before being silenced by him putting his finger to his lips.
“Later, Rosemary. There are stories you have perhaps not heard before, ones I probably should not be sharing. I will think it over and recall the details of one suitable to tell at lunch later on,” he assured her before turning to Jack, “But perhaps we should hear a story now that we cannot share later. Was it a big explosion?”
“You should’ve seen it.” Jack replied, a smile growing on his face as he recalled. “It was the loudest thing I’ve ever heard! Did you hear it? And the smoke, did you see the smoke? We should do it again another morning and you can come and watch. Do you have anymore dynamite?”
Suddenly a voice roared from the doorway of the bedroom, causing everyone in there to jump, “DYNAMITE!”
Chapter Two
The Discovery
Jack, David and Rosie sat in the library, lounging on the old leather chairs, bored and a little annoyed. Earlier that day, Mrs Gregson had screamed at them for twenty minutes until she was red in the face. She had then turned on Great Uncle Peter and given him the same treatment, for being an “irresponsible, impossible o
ld man.”
Even him explaining the stick of dynamite had actually been tiny, little more than a cracker hadn’t calmed her down. Jack wondered if that had just been a small stick, how big would the explosion have been with a full sized one?
“I still don’t get why Great Uncle got to go to the lunch. It’s not fair,” grumbled David.
“Mum can’t exactly ground her own Uncle,” replied Rosie.
“It’s his fault though. I don’t see why we should be punished for something he made us do,” David fired back.
“I don’t think he made you do anything. You wanted to light that thing the second you saw it.”
Jack was lying back looking up at the ceiling, barely listening to his cousin’s squabble. He was used to them arguing back and forth. They may have been brother and sister, but Jack thought the only thing they had in common was the blonde hair on their heads. Rosie was small and skinny, while David was tall and a little chubby. He loved to play football, while she loved her books. Jack was happy that he liked to read and play sport, as he had something in common with both of them.
He sighed and thought about earlier that day. The three of them had been banned from the day’s festivities and confined to the house. No lunch, no stories and no games. He’d been banned from his favourite day of the year!
After the yelling had finally stopped, the three of them had retreated to Jacks bedroom while the house came to life around them. Family members arrived and put their luggage in the guest rooms of the great old house, talking loudly and jovially as some hadn’t seen each other since the previous party a year ago. While Jack looked forward to seeing them all, they had decided it was better to wait until the evening, when hopefully things had calmed down and their morning adventure had been forgotten about.
Eventually they had heard everyone leave the house and make their way down to the Western Garden for lunch. Only then had they left Jacks room for the library, hoping to find something to do.
