CHAPTER NINE – THE SEARCH BEGINS
When we left the pub, we hugged and went our separate ways home. I couldn’t stop thinking about all that had been said, though, as it did seem to be a tantalising mystery and one in which I felt I was going to become entangled as time wore on. Tara’s theory about the family treasure was obviously absurd for all the reasons I had spouted, with some pleasure, to her in the pub. On the other hand, I couldn’t think of a single solitary idea to replace the fairytale. I pulled out the leather-bound notebook Mr. Tempole had passed to me and inspected the clasp again to see if by chance it was loose. It was not. It was firmly fastened and the leather strap was thick and strong. It would have to be cut open, but the thought of destroying it in any way didn’t really seem right. Instead, I slipped it away again and resorted to wondering if its pages would reveal any answers.
I decided to stop by Acacia on my way home to see if a key could be found anywhere. As I pulled into the drive of Nellie’s home, I nearly collided with the back end of Tara’s red sports car. She had obviously had the same idea as me and had somehow beaten me to it, despite leaving the pub in completely the opposite direction. I made a mental note to chastise her about the speed she drove her little car, then decided that I sounded like my mother, even in my head, so I resolved to say nothing.
‘How the hell did you get here so quickly? You must have broken every speed limit between the pub and here. You’ll get caught one day you know, either that or you’ll end up killing someone.’ Did I mention my propensity to change my mind within seconds?
‘Oh, shut up James,’ she stepped from the verandah door into which she had been about to disappear, ‘you sound like your mother.’
Told you!
‘So what are you doing here anyway? I thought you were going home.’
‘Funny, I thought the same about you too. So what’s your excuse?’
I decided that I could safely tell Tara about the notebook, despite Mr. Tempole’s veiled warning not to mention it to anyone unless I was sure they could be trusted. Anyway, if I couldn’t trust Tara, then I really did have a problem. I pulled the book out again and showed it to her.
‘Oh, that old thing, how come you’ve got it?’
So much for keeping it secret! ‘How did you know about this? Old man Tempole told me not to mention it to anyone. He made out that it was a dire secret never to be revealed.’
‘Well I don’t know why, Nellie showed it to me many times. It has heaps of her poems and short stories in it; mostly girlie stuff though, which is why she obviously didn’t bother showing you. Strange that she left it to you though, I can’t imagine you would enjoy it very much.
‘Are you sure it is the same book?’ I couldn’t understand all of the secrecy if it only contained some poems.
‘Fairly sure; let me have a look though.’
I passed it to her and she peered at it with a small frown on her face. ‘Actually, it does look somewhat different. I don’t remember it being quite so battered, and there is something strange about the clasp as well which doesn’t quite ring true.
‘She obviously had two of them then. So I wonder what’s in this one.’
‘I assume there is no key? I’m sure that even you would have thought to open it by now rather than die of intrigue.’
I frowned at this little jab, but decided to ignore it for the moment. ‘Yes, well, that’s why I’m here, to see if I can find one somewhere. How about you? You haven’t told me why you’re here yet.’
‘I just wanted to measure the dressing table to see if I could get it in my car actually.’
I wasn’t sure if she was joking about this. I studied her closely for a second before realising that it wouldn’t have occurred to her that a large piece of antique furniture was probably not going to fit into a two-seater Japanese sports car with a great deal of ease.
‘Uh-huh. I can see that you’d need to do that,’ I told her with mock seriousness, which she didn’t pick up on. I decided to humour her for the moment and get my own dig in when she realised how dumb she had been.
‘So, shall we go in or will we stand here on the doorstep yabbering all afternoon?’
She pushed the door open and gestured for me to go in first. Who said manners maketh a man – it works just as well on women!
While Tara headed to Nellie’s bedroom to check out the dressing table, I started to poke around in the obvious places an errant key may have found itself. I checked in the drawer in the kitchen – everyone has one of these, where old bits of string, dead batteries, battered dinky toys, and the odd knackered screwdriver come to rest for years on end. Next, it was onto similar drawers in the sitting room, dining room, verandah, and finally, in the shed. However, there wasn’t a sign of any key, never mind one to fit the clasp on my book. This, I reflected, was typical of Nellie. Things like keys were too important to be discarded and lost. She would have known where every key belonging to every lock was located and they would never find their way into the various bits and pieces drawers around the house. I finally checked the large bunch of keys hanging behind the airing cupboard door, where they had always been, but as I suspected, there was nothing there. So, another little mystery to add to the growing number surrounding Nellie now that she had passed on.
Tara came back into the verandah where I now sat and pondered, looking, it must be said, just a little sheepish. ‘Yes, well, I may need the help of someone with a slightly larger vehicle than my own little sweetheart.’ I didn’t have the heart to get in my jab by then, I was too disappointed that I hadn’t been able to get at the book’s contents.
‘No luck with the key then?’ she asked, looking around as if it might suddenly appear to her.
‘No, nothing at all. I may just have to cut it open, but it seems such a shame to damage it, as it seems so old. I may just hang onto it for a while and see if something turns up.’
‘Fine idea.’ Tara suddenly turned on her little girl lost look and smiled sweetly at me. She was after something, I could just tell.
‘James?’ she drew my name out in that way women do when they’re after something.
‘What is it? What do you want? How much will it cost me?’ Cynical? Moi?
‘I was just wondering if we might be able to get the table in your car, and then maybe you could pop it home for me, just when you were able, of course.’ She added this last bit in a rush as if she was doing me a favour by letting me set my own timetable on the task.
I pursed my lips and stroked my chin, gazing at her as if assessing the request, but not sure yet of my decision. This little play-act immediately had the desired effect. ‘Of course if it’s too much trouble for you then fine, just say so and I’ll get a friend to help me.’ This was delivered at pace with the emphasis on ‘friend’ as if demoting my status to that merely of family, to be endured, but certainly not necessarily liked.
I laughed out loud at the ease I had managed to wind her up. She, of course, thumped me and told me to get my A-into-G and help her out with the table.
I drive a large 4x4 with a tailgate and acres of space in the rear, so getting the table in should have proved easy. Unfortunately, as the banter flew back and forth between us, we managed to scrape the edge as it went through the rear door. I was actually very sorry at that point as I knew how much this piece of furniture meant to her, but she graciously waved my apologies away, saying that it was as much her fault as mine and anyway, she knew of a great antique restorer who would fix it up in a trice.
With that sorted out, we locked up Acacia and once again headed off in separate directions after agreeing I would drop the table off during the week when I was going to be in the area anyway, as Eden lived not that far away and our talk was long overdue.
A week later, Tara called and as soon as I answered the phone, I knew she had something to tell me. However, she was going to make me suffer a little before she actually spilled the beans. I knew this principally by the cheery greeting she gave me coupled with a vague enquiry
into my health and well-being, something that Tara never did until well into a conversation.
‘So what’s up Cuz?’ I was determined not to rise to her bait.
‘Oh not much, you know, just mooching around and doing stuff. How about you?’
‘Oh, about the same, not much, you know.’ I had a feeling she was going to get the better of me, but I persevered anyway.
‘So have you being doing anything special?’ I asked politely and innocently.
‘Not really.’ Okay, this was just starting to get to me now.
‘So what are you calling about then?’ I could hear the slight tetchiness in my voice and knew that she would have heard it too, but I stayed calm, breathing deep breaths and all that.
‘Just to say hi and see how you’re holding up. After all, we’ve all been through an emotional time recently.’ She sounded almost hurt and for a moment I wondered if I had misjudged her this time.
‘Yes….well…sorry…I…I’m fine, thanks for asking. And you?’ There was a slightly repetitive nature to this conversation I just couldn’t quite put my finger on, and I wasn’t sure how to break the cycle at the moment. Luckily, Tara decided to feed me a little something. Good of her!
‘So, I got the guy in to take a look at the table yesterday.’
I had dropped it off when Tara wasn’t at home, but had still not talked to Eden as she had also been out when I called round. I probably should have checked she was going to be there I know, but in my own mind, at least I had tried. Others may see it differently of course. It wasn’t all just male idiocy though. There was something that was telling me that the timing just wasn’t right; that I needed to wait and make sure that whatever I said to her was going to be sincere and heartfelt. Right now though, another woman in my life needed attention.
‘Oh?’ I tried to sound nonchalant, although I was immediately intrigued.
‘Yes, he took it apart a bit, just to get at the whole thing, you know.’ This was like pulling teeth, and finally I snapped.
‘Oh, for god’s sake will you just tell me what it is you’ve phoned for and put me out of my bloody misery!’ There was a slight pause at the other end, during which I swear I could hear her smile.
‘Yes, he pulled the drawers right out to check them out and at the back of one of them he found something.’ Then, can you believe it she just stopped? I mean, she just stopped talking and waited for me to ask her what it was he had found. There’s a definite nasty streak in this woman.
Through gritted teeth I asked, ‘And what did he find Tara?’
‘Well..’ she still wasn’t giving up, ‘there was a little sliding door with a shallow space behind it.’ This time I didn’t say a word and she soon got the message, finally blurting it all out. ‘And in the little space there was an envelope. It must have been there a long time because the tape that held it in had gone completely brittle and the envelope itself was yellow and stained. The guy doing the work said it must have been at least forty or fifty years old. So I carefully opened the envelope and there were two things inside. One was a note and the other was a small key, which I am sure will fit the lock to that book you have.’
I could feel my heart beating a little faster at this revelation, but wondered why Tara was so convinced the key would fit the book’s lock.
‘Well, the note gave it away actually,’ she continued, ‘although it was a bit strange. It said that it was our turn to bring things to an end and also that maybe the book would show the way to the acacia.’
I was confused by the way Tara had read this out to me. ‘What do you mean “our turn”? Did it literally say the words “our turn” or did it say “your turn” or did it mention us by name? What?’
‘No, keep calm there detective, it says “The two of you will take a turn to bring things to an end. Use the book as your guide to the acacia”. That’s literally what it says.’
‘What, nothing else at all? What the hell does it mean?’
‘Well I don’t know do I? That’s why I’m phoning you. Perhaps we should meet and try and figure it out.’
‘Yes, good idea, but one thing Tara.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Don’t mention this to anyone else just yet. I don’t know why but I have a feeling about this and I think we should just try to keep things to ourselves for now. Agree?’
She hesitated for a second, but then agreed and said she would meet me at Acacia after work the following day.
Being at work the next day was a waste of everyone’s time as I churned everything over in my mind again and again. I even called Eden at one point, but the conversation simply went nowhere and we gave up the attempt in exasperation with each other. Eventually, I gave up the ghost and left for Acacia in the late afternoon with the book sitting on the seat next to me. As before, when I pulled in to the driveway at the bungalow, the little sports car was sitting there already. Tara must have left work at noon in order to get here before me. Things were obviously getting to her too.
As I climbed the couple of steps to the glass verandah door, I could see Tara sitting on the ancient leather sofa, her gaze fixed on a point of nothingness not far from her face. She jumped as I pulled the door open and immediately got up and held out a small brass key. Without a word, I grabbed it and inserted it into the lock on the outside of the book. It fitted perfectly, but just wouldn’t turn.
‘Come on James; stop messing around for god’s sake. This is not the time for it’
This had obviously got to her more than I had imagined and the thought that I could get my own back for yesterday’s phone conversation occurred to me. But, I really couldn’t turn the key and I wanted to get into the book as much as she did. ‘I can’t turn it, it’s completely stuck. Maybe it’s just not the right key after all.’ I kept jiggling both lock and key as I spoke and thought that I could feel a slight movement.
‘Hang on a minute.’ Tara shot off into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of cooking oil. ‘Rub some of this on the key and drip a little into the lock.’ I did as I was told and inserted the key again. It was definitely moving now and after a second or two, I felt it click., My nature got the better of me though and I murmured ‘no, it isn’t moving at all; it just is not the right key. Sorry mate, it was a good idea though.’
Tara sagged back down on to the sofa, head drooping. ‘I was so sure it would be the key for that damn book. I mean what else could it possibly be for?’ She looked up and for a second, fell silent before leaping to her feet and delivering a telling right hook to my arm. Luckily, it was the opposite arm to the one with which I was holding the now opened book or I may have dropped it. The grin of victory instantly left my face as I grabbed my rapidly numbed arm with my other hand. Tara always could pack a punch and I made a mental note to always take a step or two away from her after winding her up like that.
She made a grab for the book, but this time I was too quick. ‘No you don’t. My book, so I get to read it first. Just back off there Rocky!’
‘Ok, sorry, let’s sit down and see what’s in it together shall we?’ She was giving me the look again, so I complied. The first thing that struck me as I started reading the first page was the date at the top. March 1877. ‘My god, it really is old,’ I exclaimed, ‘and look at the name on the inside front cover, Frederick Braughton. Do you know who that is?’
‘Yes of course, Nellie has talked about him before.’ Tara had forgotten our little joust completely by now and was peering over at the first pages, intently reading what was there. She looked up at me and said, ‘he was the first Braughton to head out to Africa. He must be a great, great, great something or other, but I thought he left England before 1877. I’m sure Nellie told me it was the 1860’s when he went out there.’
Something stirred in the recesses of my childhood memory. ‘Yes I do remember now, it was definitely the ‘60’s because I remember Nellie talking about it and I saying that it was over a hundred years before I was born. So I wonder why this is dated ov
er ten years after he got there.’
‘How about you read on and maybe we’ll find out?’ There you go, the Braughton common sense gene coming to the fore again. Smart girl, my cousin!
The first page described how Frederick, accompanied by a group of men, had set out from Cape Town on a hunt for “the riches of the interior”. This was exciting already, more than hinting at treasure on just the first page. We looked at each other with shining eyes and then read on. A couple more pages on, after descriptions of men, horses, and supplies they were taking with them, there was a hand-drawn map. It seemed to mark out a valley not far from Cape Town to the northeast. Below it were simply the words; “the most beautiful place in the world in which to make a home”. ‘I wonder if that is where he lived.’ Tara gazed off into the distance again, repeating the words from below the map. ‘Wouldn’t it be great to go and see it?’
‘Yeah it would, wouldn’t it? Perhaps we should go out there soon. After all, we have to spend the money Nellie left us on a trip to Africa.’
‘God yes, I’d forgotten all about that, when shall we go?’
‘Well personally, I think I’ll wait at least until I’ve finished reading this. What do you think?’ She looked at me sheepishly. ‘Sorry, getting a little ahead of myself there. Well, go on then, read some more.’
After the map of the valley, there were a number of pages that dwelt on the journey the group had taken through what is now South Africa and described the terrain and the settlements they passed through. Under the heading “Kimberley”, Frederick talked of the huge quantities of diamonds that were being dug from the ground there and he also wrote about an encounter with a “native” worker at the Big Hole. He said that, “his eyes burned with a hate I have not seen since I have been in this land and I will wonder for a long time what has inspired these feelings from one I have not met before now.”
‘Strange,’ I said thoughtfully, ‘I wonder what prompted that little episode. But this time I carried on reading without any interruption from Tara. The pages after this dealt with a breakup of the group at Tati and the decision by Frederick to go on without Selous.
‘That would have been either a brave or stupid decision back then I would have thought,’ Tara aired her thoughts; ‘I don’t think there would have exactly been any signposts or even any reliable maps to show them the way, and more importantly how to steer clear of trouble with the locals.’
‘True, you can’t say the Braughtons were ever scared of a little adventure can you?’ I looked at Tara in what I considered a meaningful manner that she chose to ignore for the moment.
‘Just read on Tonto.’ These little pet names Tara regaled me with were getting just a little irritating now, but I stored it and continued with the task at hand. ‘Hey, this is starting to look a little more like it.’ I pointed at the next page heading which read, “The road to Lobengula”. ‘Wasn’t he a Zulu king? I asked, feeling that we were getting closer to whatever we were expected to find in these pages.
‘Matabele, dummy. The Zulus are much further south, miles away from here.’ Tara’s knowledge put me in my place again. ‘But you’re right; it would be exciting if he had managed to meet with Lobengula, or any other king for that matter.’
So, once again, I read on and for the next hour. Both Tara and I were utterly enraptured, thrilled, excited, and totally, totally focused on what was written on those pages.
THE PAST
Acacia - Secrets of an African Painting Page 10
