It had been almost three years now since that night Jamie and I were whisked off from our beautiful little home and brought to this horrid place.  It was a nightmare, full of the worse things that you could ever imagine.  Of course being small children, no-one bothered or cared enough to try to explain, just what was happening, how at the tender age of twenty-four our mother had suffered a massive brain haemorrhage and having no other surviving relatives we were to spend the following years in an orphanage.   No, all we knew at the time was the two rather and unsympathetic women had come to take us away and that Mother had abandoned us to our fate.   I was just six years old at the time, and Jamie only three.

I am sure that you can not imagine the great trauma of that terrible journey, away from the people and places we had come to regard as home and family.  But the truth was we had no family to call our own, not a proper family anyway, and the house that we lived in was one of a succession of houses that we seemed to drift through whenever our mother felt the urge to move.  We never had cause to ask why this was, for it was our way of life, and we never knew any different.

But to get back to the story, we were bundled bleary eyed and frightened, into a dark ominous carriage that clattered down the empty cobbled street.  The old woman sitting opposite me cradled my young brother in her arms, rocking him gently to and fro, uttering soothing noises to calm his fears, while I scrambled on the leathery seat in order to look through the back window at my receding home.

Rising up to choke away the screams in my throat, and the dark empty street that was to I remember the tears tasting bitter on my tongue as I cried out for our mother, the panic be the last glimpse I would have of our former happy life together.  From that day forth we never saw our mother alive again.

Sunlight filtered through the trees as I awoke to the dawn of a new day.  The lady sitting next to me looked down and smiled warmly as she tucked the blanket around my shoulders.  I looked across at my younger brother, who was still fast asleep in the old woman’s arms.  When I asked my companion for my mother all she could say was that she had gone away and would never be coming back.  Of course I did not believe her.  My mother loved us both very much and would never leave us like this.  Once she knew we were gone she would come and find us and take us home again, I just knew she would.

The coach stopped shortly at a lay station where we were allowed to breakfast and stretch our legs, but the two ladies were always close in attendance preventing me from taking Jamie in my arms and running off down the road from whence we had come.  Looking back now, I realise it would have been a fruitless gesture to do so, as we had no idea where we were.  I looked on my younger brother with his corn coloured hair and sparkling hazel eyes and marvelled at his blissful ignorance as he rolled and tumbled on the rich green grass,  It seemed to me that it was one huge adventure for a small boy who had known nothing of the wonders of the countryside, having lived his three young years trapped in the confines of the big city.  He picked daffodils in bunches and with laughing eyes thrust them in my lap before turning on his heels and scampering off once more.  I could not begrudge him the pleasure he was creating for himself for all I had to offer was an aching heart.

We were on our way once more and before long came to a huge old house that stood in it’s own grounds with fencing and a large  rusty iron gate that groaned when it was opened.  The carriage trundled up the driveway and came to a halt outside the house.  The door was immediately thrust open and out came a stout gent with a stock of white hair and a huge beard to match.  He was dressed immaculately in a black three piece suit with highly polished shoes and a big bow tie clinging to his throat, a pair of rimless spectacles completed the outfit.  His voice, like his appearance was sharp and to the point, no hint of friendliness escaped from those lips.  His name was Mr Strong, and like his name his manner was powerfully overbearing.

Mr Strong spoke sharply to the two ladies for five minutes, totally ignoring the fact that we two children, of whom he was discussing, were actually there at all.  It was all grown up talk that went way over my head, but one word stuck out above all the others.  Dead, dead, dead.  He couldn’t understand why it was that when his attention finally wandered to us, I was sobbing my heart out, and because he didn’t understand, his only reaction was anger.  Shouting to someone inside the house he grasped our hands roughly and marched us indoors.  It was like stepping into another world.

It wasn’t as bad for Jamie as it was for me.  Because he was so young he didn’t understand what was going on.  He cried for his mummy often of course, but as with all young children, he adapted quite easily to orphanage life.  After a while he even stopped asking about mother altogether.  But it was I who suffered, I who cried constantly, I who had bad dreams at night and I who was burdened with the sad memories of that fateful night.

As soon as we entered the house on that first day we were subject to all manner of degrading rituals that were to become an everyday occurrence in our new life style.  All our possessions. what little we had, were removed and taken away.  Even to this day we have not seen or heard tell of their whereabouts.  One item I truly miss, and that was the gold locket chain given to me on my fifth birthday. I remember my mother’s words when she placed the chain around my neck, so long ago now.  “This is a very special gift my darling and you must take good care not to loose or damage it,  my mother gave it to me, and her mother gave it to her.  I don’t know how long it has been in the family, but it is very, very special.”  And now it was gone perhaps forever.

We were made to have a bath that first day and a grumpy old lady checked our hair for lice.  It made not the slightest difference when I told her we came from a very clean home and took pride in our appearance, she still rifled our hair roughly with a fine comb.  Then, when we were judged “clean” we were given old clothes to wear, the material of which was rough and prickly and made our skin itch.  God knows why we could not wear our own clothing.

The most heart rendering aspect of that first day was when we were told we could no longer sleep in the same room, but would be split up in different dormitories.  We had never slept apart before, and I remember that first night, in a room full of strange girls, laying awake fretting over poor little Jamie.  He must have been terrified.  Thankfully, the next day I befriended a nice boy who promised to look after my little brother at night.  All the same I couldn’t banish the thought of little Jamie waking in the middle of the night crying and me not being there to rock him to sleep again.

The children at the orphanage, no matter what their background or how they came to be there, all were bonded together by one mutual aspect.  They were all without parents.  Knowing this to be true helped me realise that our mother must have passed on.  It was very hard to accept at first, but time went by without our mother coming to claim us and so, it was the only plausible explanation.

The day to day routine never altered, all the time we stayed at that house in the rolling countryside, never altered, never changed.  It was very hard to adjust at first, and sometimes very painful.  I well remember the day when, after our evening meal, I accidentally dropped the plates whilst carrying them back to the kitchen.  The cook came rushing out and began to hit me across my back with a very large stick she kept for just such occasions.  That was one of many beatings I was to receive in our short time at the orphanage.  It was a harsh cruel world and life was a constant struggle that made you leave all your childhood dreams behind you, you had to concentrate fully on survival.  I was six when we first came to this house of horror, and now after almost three years I feel much older than nine, and Jamie, poor, poor Jamie, he has no precious memories of any happiness to cling to.

CHAPTER 2  

THE VERY SPECIAL VISITORS

It was on a Wednesday that we were called from our duties and ushered into Mr Strong’s office.  Could it be that after all this time our mother had finally found our where-abouts and had come to collect us and take us away from this awful place?  Jamie held my hand tightly as we stood at attention behind the big oak desk.  It must be something very important, for it was almost unheard of for anyone to venture into the confines of his private sanctuary.

Mr Strong sat behind his desk, shuffling papers and reading through files before glancing up to look as us in his cold calculated manner, that was his trade mark.  “I have some news for you children” he said with a faint smile threatening to mar his image.  “Tomorrow we are to have visitors coming to this house, very important visitors I might add.  They have expressed a wish to see you, though why I can’t imagine.  I have been looking through your files.  I understand you have no surviving relatives, is that correct?”  Without waiting for a reply he ventured on.  “Well, no matter, now, tomorrow you will rise early and attend to your toilet diligently.  Mrs Kite will make sure you are properly dresses and well turned out in clean clothes.  That will be all.”  With that he resumed his reading, totally ignoring us.  There were so many questions rebounding in my head that my feet refused to move even though Jamie was tugging on my arm.  Mr Strong’s head moved slowly upwards and our eyes made contact.  “Is there something else girl?” he shouted angrily.  Although my knees were knocking together and I was shaking, I stood my ground and mustered all the courage I had left to ask the question which had caused me so much pain since we left our home in the city.  “Pardon me sir,” I said sheepishly, “but is our mother still alive somewhere?”  A look of alarm came across his face at my words, and he sat straight in his chair, watching my face.

“Stupid girl!  Why would you be here if your mother was still alive?  Be off with you before I get annoyed!”

So we had finally been told the truth.   Our mother was dead.  I remember the invisible weight crashing down upon me, threatening to crush the life out of my body.  There seemed no hope left for us but to spend the rest of our days in this place.  We were alone in the world, no-one to care whether we lived or died.  All we had was each other.

That night was the worst I had experienced since arriving there.  The tears I cried soaked my pillow, and sleep eluded me till early morning when the nightmares returned to haunt me.   I saw my mother laying in her bed with Mr Strong bending over her body and strangling the life out of her.  He saw me at the door and came over and lifted me off the floor.  He carried me to the bed where my mother lay dead and made me kiss my mother goodbye, before taking me to the cellar and locking me in that cold place.  I screamed, and the screams were answered by maniacal laughter.  I scream again, unable to stop.  Something grasped at my shoulders and began shaking me, calling my name over and over and over.  With a start I opened my eyes and saw Mrs Kite’s angry face hovering  above me like a ghost.

It was dawn.  In my state of postponed mourning I had forgotten the reason why we had been called into Mr Strong’s office the day before, but now I began to wonder just who there important guests could be, and what they wanted with Jamie and me.  I was almost unheard of for a child in this establishment to be adopted by a family.  If this was the reason, then why did they express a wish to see us specially.  There where many children in this place, so why us?.  No it must be something to do with our mother, a will perhaps.  I tried to cast the enigma aside, but it was almost impossible.

Mrs Kite was on hand to make sure I was properly presentable for the interview with the strangers.  New clothes were laid out especially for the occasion, and to my utter delight Mrs Kite brought out of her pocket, my most treasured possession, my mother’s gold locket.  She placed it round my neck, scooping up my hair in a bun to highlight the beautiful piece of jewellery.  For some reason she talked to me like a proper human being, for the first time in three years, even managing to joke occasionally.  I couldn’t help but wonder what had brought about this distinct change of attitude in her.  Perhaps this would be a special day after-all.

Jamie and I breakfasted alone that morning (a rarity in itself).   My little brother was so resplendent in his new set of clothes that I felt a tinge of sadness for the wasted years of his life (that was gone forever).  He was six now, already that childish toddler image had passed him by, and anyone looking deep into his eyes could discern a growing hardness that only time and tender love would ever erase.  It was a tragedy for him that he hardly knew the love of a mother he could not remember.  At least I had that, a place locked in my heart, a special place growing there, keeping me safe whenever this life threatened to smother me alive.  But not so for Jamie, all he had was me and the hardness of the orphanage life.  I cried inside for the hurt of my little brother.

At eleven o’clock they came for us.  We were waiting in the dorm when Mrs Kite breezed in and led us to the door of Mr Strong’s office.  She knocked lightly and waited for permission to enter.  “Come” I heard from inside the room.  She opened the door slowly, building up the suspense.

Mr Strong sat, as always, behind his desk, and seated to one side of him were two more gentlemen and a lady.  In the space of a few moments we appraised each other.  The elder man seemed in his forties with greying hair and a drooping moustache, his eyes were wide and sparkling, a hint of sadness played on his thin mouth.   He was a stout man from what I could see, and his dress was that of a real gentlemen.  Somehow I had the feeling that we had met before, how or when I couldn’t say but the feeling was very strong.

The other man was slightly younger in appearance.  His neat black hair sleeked off his forehead, his eyes had an air of cool calculated precision.  Unlike his elder companion, he seemed quite at ease in his manner and gave us a warm smile.

The lady I also felt I had met before.  She was fortyish and it was obvious that she and the first man were married, by the way they leaned on each other’s shoulders.  Her hair was so beautiful, the colour of rich corn in a summer breeze.  It hung round her shoulders in long ringlets and a lovely neat red velvet ribbon was tied in a bow at the back.  She wore no makeup that  I could discern.  Her face was naturally dark, her eyes the deepest blue.  Her hand fluttered up to her mouth on seeing us, and a whisper of astonishment escaped her full lips.  All this in a space of a moment (frozen in time).  We entered.

We walked toward Mr Strong’s desk but before we had reached halfway the woman was off her chair and crouching down beside us.  She clasped her tender arms around us and hugged us to her bosom.  I turned to look at this strange woman only to discover that she was in tears.  Her voice shuddered in my ear, “Oh my babies, my poor, poor babies”.  Instinctively I put my arm around her.  Although I didn’t know this lady I felt a strange stirring in my heart for her.  Jamie too clasped her round the neck.  I don’t know what it was, maybe it was just the need to be hugged and fondled the way our mother used to do, but the tears stung my eyes and it was as though the hurt of three year of heartbreak had finally bust upon me.  The elderly man joined his wife on the floor and wrapped his arms around us.  He too was crying now, and I hugged him with all the love I had.  It was very moving for although we couldn’t understand their behaviour, we wallowed in this rare show of affection.

After a while, our tears finally subsiding, the old man scooped Jamie up in his arms whilst the beautiful lady sat me on her knee.  All at once it came to me, why I felt I had known her before.  The lady bore a startling resemblance to my long dead mother.  I couldn’t stop staring into her face, it was so beautiful.  Mr Strong broke the spell with his voice.

“Well sir, I trust these are the children of which we spoke?”

“Indeed they are sir, there’s no mistake about it”

“Then sir, all that is left to do is fill in the necessary documents.”

I will leave all that to Mark here,” he said patting his companion on the shoulder, “He’s my attorney and well qualified to act in such matters as this.  All I ask is for my wife and myself to have a few minutes alone with the children.”

“Of course, feel free to use my office if you will.  I will return shortly with the release forms”.  With that he strode out of the room closely followed by the young attorney.

“George” exclaimed the lady after the two men had left, “aren’t they just so beautiful!  Just like I knew they would be!  Just like their .........”  The man called George cut his wife off with a loud cough.

“I know Anna, I know” he said soothingly.  ”Now then children, may I ask you a question?  Do you like living here?  I didn’t know what to say.  If this man was a friend of Mr Strong’s then I couldn’t say no, for fear of a beating when they had gone.  What could I say?  Jamie, not dwelling on the consequences blurted out the truth.

“We hate it here!  They beat you when you wake up crying, and they won’t let us go home, or even out for a picnic!”  The nice lady hugged me even closer.  The old man continued.

“We have a very big house, far too big for Anna and myself.  There is lots of room and it’s in the countryside too,  There’s horses and cows and thing,  Servants too”

“It sounds beautiful sir, but why are you telling us this”.

“Because my dear, dear child.  What my husband is trying to say is, if you want to, really want to, you could come and live with us.  We so much would love to have you live at our house.  In fact I am sure my heart would break if you didn’t.”

“Live with you” said Jamie excitedly, “in your house, really!”

“There is nothing more in the whole wide world that would please us so,” said the man.

I couldn’t help but ask why they were being so nice to us, after all, we were total strangers.  A funny look passed between them, a sad look, one that instantly made me regret my words.

“Well.....” said the man “long ago we had a daughter of our own.  We made a big mistake and she went away.  They were crying once more and I felt terribly sad for them.  “we realise we had made a mistake, but it was too late.  We loved her so much, but we never had chance to tell her.  She died some time ago.”

“Like our mummy” cried  Jamie.

“Yes” said the lady, “just like you mummy.

“Now we are getting old, and ever so lonely, we need someone to help fulfil our lives.  And that someone is you two.  Please say you will live with us,” the man sobbed.

It seemed to me like the sun had suddenly burst into rose petals.  I cried tears of absolute joy and happiness at these two people wanted us in their lives.  I knew they would love us, for already there was that cherished bond between us.  I felt a looseness that I had never felt with anyone but my brother Jamie, and my dear lost mother, and these two wonderful people felt it too.

Mr Strong tapped on the door and entered followed behind by the young man.  “Everything seems in order Mr Baltimore, all we need now is you signature on this document.”

George Baltimore looked up at Mr Strong.  “Please have their belongings packed away.  We shall be leaving within the hour.”  We stood up and the man and woman took our hands.  “Katy, Jamie, shall we go home now? “ asked the lady.

“Oh yes please,” said I bubbling over with excitement.

CHAPTER THREE

THIS HOUSE, OUR HOUSE

It was all happening so fast.  Not but two hours ago we had little of no hope of ever leaving this terrible place, and now we were on the front porch with our suitcases, filled with memories, saying goodbye to our friends.  Even Mr Strong shook our hands and wished us well.  There where a few tears shed at our departure.  I remember thinking, this house brought many bad experiences to us, but there were some good memories too, although few and far between.   The saddest part of all was saying goodbye to Josephine who I had taken under my wing on the occasion of her being rather slow in the head.  We had become great friends in the three years we had stayed and she had come to depend on me greatly.  I worried how she would cope without my shoulder to lean on, but (then) we had learned a lot together an (now) maybe she was strong enough (now) to survive.  I vowed to write to her each week.

At last, the goodbyes all being said, Mr Baltimore waved to a man who immediately disappeared, only to return moments later driving a real motor car.  It chugged up the driveway and came to a halt in front of the porch.  Everyone squealed with delight at the sight of the olive green car with it’s shinny brass lamps and gleaming silver hood.  The driver wore a funny kind of uniform and he smiled at the amazement of all the gawking children.

“Your carriage awaits you children” said Mr Baltimore laughing.  We scrambled into the back seat alongside the nice lady and waved to our friends out of the window.  I don’t know about Jamie, but I felt like royalty sitting in that big car with it’s plush seats and large windows.  It was the very first time we had rode in an automobile.  It was always the transport of the very rich and famous who owned such cars.  It wasn’t the only delightful experience we would undertake on that momentous journey that day, there were many more suppress awaiting in store.

With a final flurry of the last goodbyes and frantic waving of hands, the car trundled out of the grounds of the orphanage.  I couldn’t help but seal one last glance out of the back window (for the very last time) mixed feelings played on my mind.  I was happy to be going away, yet sad for that which I left behind.  In that place a little girl and boy grew up faster than they ought to have had, they lost part of their childhood to the call of responsibility.  Undoubtedly, it had changed their lives, for better or for worse, only time would tell.  The last glimpse faded and I sat back in my seat to think on what lay ahead.

The rolling countryside sped past the window as I remained deep in thought.  Jamie was engrossed in a game of ‘I spy’ with Mr Baltimore, who for all his efforts couldn’t guess what Jamie had seen.  I almost told him that Jamie couldn’t spell, so it could be anything, but my mind was elsewhere.  A gentle hand snaked around my shoulder and I nestled in the arms of Mr Baltimore.  I tried to smile, but for some reason it was very hard.

“Don’t look so sad Katy, all that is behind you now.  From now on you will always have someone who cares for you both.  I hope that, given time, you will love us just as dearly as we love you.”

I looked into those wonderful eyes and asked that question which had been nagging in my head “Are you going to be our new mother and father?”

“Sort of, sweetheart.  But I think that I am too old for you to think of me as mother don’t you?  I would like it very much if you could look on me, not as a new mother, but rather a grandmother.  Yes, I would like that very much indeed.  I think my husband would prefer grandpapa too, instead of sir.  Sir seems so formal, don’t you agree?”

“I never knew my real grandparents,” I said, “mommy said they died a long time ago when I was only two years old.”  Mrs Baltimore was very sad and even began to cry.  It was rather touching that she understood so much.  Mr Baltimore came and sat by his wife who sobbed on his shoulder, making his pale grey jacket all wet with tears.  When she had clamed herself she turned to me once more and said “Please, tell us about your life with your mother, what was it like, and where you lived.”  But just then we pulled into a railway station, we were actually going to ride on a train.  Mrs Baltimore would have to wait to hear out story, at least until the excitement of this new experience had run it’s course.

We stood on the platform, watching the distant horizon for the tell-tale puffs of smoke that would herald the approach of the locomotive.  It seemed to take forever, but finally our patience was rewarded, when in the distance smoke rose in the air, and the distinctive clickerty clack of the engine grew louder and louder until it thundered to a halt at the station.  We entered as close to the mighty engine as we could get, so Jamie could pretend to drive the train.  When all the passengers had boarded, it moved slowly out of the station.  It whistled twice before moving on it’s way and we pressed out noses to the windowpane and waved enthusiastically to the driver of the car who was left behind.

Not long after leaving the station, Jamie fell asleep in “grandpapa’s” arms, lulled by the gentle bumping of the locomotive.  I too felt sleepy, but I was reluctant to miss anything that passed by the window, pointing out this and that to grandma.  She indulged me with all manner of information concerning the different towns and villages we passed through.

“Mrs......grandma,” she smiled warmly at this, “where are we going?”

“Home sweet, we are taking you home.”

“Yes but where?  And what is it like?

“Well,” she said pulling me close to her.  “It will take us seven hours to get where we are going because it is far away.  Our house is in the Yorkshire Dales on a hill called Mullberry Hill.  It’s surrounded by open country for as far as the eye can see, lovely meadows full of colour at this time of year.  It’s so beautiful it almost makes you cry.  There are cows grazing in the field, and sheep too.”

“Is it a farm then grandma?”

“Well sort of dear, at least part of it is.  There’s more to Mulberry Hill than just farming.  We live in a huge house that has been in our family for centuries, ever since Cromwell.  I know you’ll just love it when you see it sweetheart, everyone does.  It’s got twenty-three rooms and  lovely gardens.  There is quite a number of outbuildings too.  Both of you will have the times of your lives exploring.”

“Can Jamie and I sleep in the same bedroom, because I’m sure he will be frightened sleeping on his own after all this time.”

“Well sweetheart, you won’t be sleeping in the same room, but Jamie will only be next door to you.  And, there is a joining door in your room straight into his, so you see, you will be practically in the same room when the door is open, won’t you?”

“We’ve never had a room of our own.  In the orphanage all the girls slept in one large room,” I told her.

“From now on, things are going to be quite different.   Tell me, did you not have a room of you own when you lived with you mother?”

“For a while Jamie slept in mommy’s room, when he was a baby, then when he was old enough he slept with me in my room.”

“Do you remember your father Katy?”

“Only vaguely.  He died just before Jamie was born.” 

A look of sadness swept over her face, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s Jamie I feel sorry for, at least I knew him for a short while, he never knew him at all.  Mommy used to tell us stories about him, she always said  what a great man he was.”

“Yes I am sure that he was.  And  what of your mother?”

“Well she had to work very hard when daddy was gone.  Sometimes, when she would come home late at night from working hard, I’d hear her crying downstairs on her own.  We never stayed in one place very long, always we seemed to be moving around.  Just when we got settled our mommy would decide to move on.  Then she got ill, always coughing and getting chills.  One night we left her downstairs, she seemed all right, no worse than she’d been on other occasions.  That was the last time we was her alive.  They came for us then, the people from the orphanage, and that’s where you found us.  Don’t cry grandma, grandpapa, please.

I’m sorry my dearest” Mrs Baltimore sobbed, “but it is so sad.”

I took the locket from around my neck and opened the clasp to show them the photo inside.  “This was my mother, she looks so pretty doesn’t she.”  As I passed it to them they both broke into renewed anguish, so much so that tears streamed down my face too.  I hugged them both tenderly.  Could it be that these two people understood my heartache.  The bond was every growing.

The sun was going down when the train pulled into the station.  Lengthening shadows cast an eerie gloom over everything they touched.  We scrambled off the locomotive onto the platform.  We stretched our aching limbs, groaning as stiff muscles creaked in there joints.  Grandpapa carried the suitcases to another waiting motorcar similar to the one we had left at the station. 

“Almost home now children,” he said cheerfully.  “Soon be up at Mullberry.  I expect your tummies are quite empty,  I know mine is, It’s been grumbling for ages now.

The Yorkshire moor land slipped by the window almost unnoticed as the darkness crept silently upon us.  We were quite tired out by our long journey.  Even grandpapa couldn’t keep his eyes from closing occasionally.  Jamie was wrapped tightly in his blanket far away in dreams.

After about an hour of driving ever upward, we were there, Mullberry Hill.  We drove through a large iron gate, up the winding driveway, which overhung with trees, finally into the open gardens of the house.  There it stood, not a house, but a huge mansion, resplendent and awe inspiring, even the gloom of nightfall couldn’t hide it’s splendour. It was all, and more, that I had imagine it would be.  Standing tall and noble against the background of swaying trees.  It looked like a house from a picture book story.

The car drove up to the pillared doorway and halted.  Immediately the door opened and light cascaded onto the front porch.  A man dressed immaculately in the uniform of a butler came rushing out to open the door of the car.  Sleepily, we eased our weary bones onto the gravel pathway and stood looking up at the mighty building.   Mr Baltimore scooped Jamie into his arms and once his was in a comfortable position he then put his free arm about my shoulders.

“This is Mullberry Hill children, your new home.  I hope you will always be happy living here with us.”  I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a great bug kiss.

CHAPTER FOUR

DAYS OF EXPLORATION

Sunlight flooded into the bedroom as I lay in my bed in a state of half asleep and wakefulness.  The bed was very soft and comfortably inviting, unlike my hard bed in the orphanage where you always felt cold and restless.  A small voice was whimpering softly in the next room.  The door was slightly agar,  I padded across the plush carpet and peered into Jaime’s room.   Last night after the meal he had fallen asleep whilst talking about our new house.  Grandpapa had to carry him upstairs to bed and tuck him up tight.  We talked until I too felt very sleepy and asked to be excused.  I fell into bed and my eyes closed as soon as my head touched the pillow.

Now it was that Jamie had woken in a strange room all alone and was a bit confused as to where he was, I walked over to his bed and touched his shoulder. 

“It’s all right Jamie, I’m here.”  He looked up into my smiling face and reached out his arms for a cuddle.  “Move up so I can get in with you.” He shuffled his body to one side so as to give me a bit of room.  I snuggled under the bed covers next to him.

“Don’t like sleeping on my own Katy,” he complained “nobody to talk to.”

“My room is right next door to your, and do you see that door,” I smiled pointing to the adjoining door, “that’s a very special door, it’s ours.  It leads straight to my room.  So you aren’t alone are you?  That door will always remain open so that we can visit each other whenever we like.”

“When is breakfast Katy?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe we have to wait here till someone tells us.”

“Are the old people going to be our new mommy and daddy.  I like them don’t you?”

“They’re very nice,” I said “very nice.  This house is our home now and they are going to take care of us.  Would you like that Jamie?”  Before he could answer a knock came on the door, a moment later it swung inwardly and in stepped Mrs Baltimore followed by another lady of about fifty with a warm friendly smile.  Mrs Baltimore breezed across the room, sat on the bed and gave us each a warm hug.

“Good morning little sweethearts,” she said happily, “I hope you slept very well.”

“Yes thank you ma’am” I said

“Please grandma, Now this is Mrs Pritchard, she is going to be your nanny.

“What is a nanny” interrupted Jamie.

“Well a nanny is someone who specially loves children and takes care of them, makes sure they come to no harm and see to it that they are not late for breakfast.  Speaking of which.  It is time you got out of bed and came to the dinning room.”

“Are we late?” I asked.

“Well just a little, but you seemed so exhausted we decided to let you sleep a little longer.  Now, Mrs Pritchard will stay to help you was and dress and I’ll see you downstairs.  It’s a lovely day outside and later this afternoon I’ll have a suprise for you both.”

Grandma left the room leaving us alone with Mrs Pritchard.  “Now children,” she said with a smile.  “let’s be getting you nice and clean ready for breakfast.”

“We can do that ourselves,” grumbled Jamie.

“Oh I’m sure you can,” she said, “but I have a special bottle full of foaming bubbles to put in you bath so it will be fun.”

“Bubbles in a bath?” queried Jamie.

“Why of course, and inside each bubble is a little fairy who tickles you all over.”  That was it, she had won my little brother’s trust right from the beginning.  He took her hand and skipped merrily into the bathroom.  Moments later I hears squeals of laughter and water splashing.

It only took us half an hour to be ready to face our first day in this new house.   We ate a breakfast of oatmeal with hot milk, and tea from a silver service and afterwards, toasted crumpets.  It was all scrumptious. 

“Now” said grandma, “what do you say to a little tour of the house/”

“Oh yes please,” we both said together.

So off we went.  The two women took us into the next room which was a library filled from floor to ceiling with rich bound books.  A roaring fire blazed in the hearth, even though outside the sun was shining strongly.  A large mahogany table took up most of the floor space. 

“We are having this room converted into a small study for you both, where you will be tutored by Mrs Pritchard in basic schooling.  You will spend a minimum of four hours each day learning to read and write.  I’m sure Mrs Pritchard will make it very interesting.”  Next we moved into a large room where all the furniture was close to the wall.  An ornate crystal chandelier sparkled gaily on the ceiling and the floor was polished to a slippery surface.  Beautiful paintings hung on the walls. 

“In here we hold parties where people dance and sing.  Perhaps we can invite some of the local children and have a party in your honour.  Yes I think that is a good idea.  It will give you a chance to meet other children.”

Jamie was getting decidedly bored by this time and made no bones about saying.

“Can’t we explore on our own Katy? Can’t we go and look for ourselves?”

“Why of course darling” laughed grandma, “this is your house too now.   You can do anything you want, within reason.”

So, that  was how we went off exploring. To be quite honest, it was much more fun to go off by ourselves although, being more respectful than my little brother I would never have voiced my opinion to grandma.  It was funny how soon the name grandma was so easily spoken to Mrs Baltimore.  Having never had one of our very own, I tried to emphasise it readily.  I suppose it made me feel part of our new family.  The need for security and stability were uppermost in my mind.  It pleased her no end to hear me speak that name.  The look of ecstasy in her eyes was just reward for my efforts.   I wanted us to be happy here, but happiness was a two way thing and I vowed I would make our new guardians happier than they has ever been. 

We wandered into the kitchen, then the conservatory and back to the dining room.  We were surprised by the appearance of an elderly valet, who we later learned was named Hodgkins, when he rushed down the hall in the direction of a room we had yet to investigate. We decided to follow him and see what he was up to.  The door was slightly ajar as giggling  we peered inside.  The valet was pouring a drink out of a decanter into a large glass, he then turned and spoke to someone out of sight.  The voice of grandpapa came to our ears so we decided to enter.  He sat at a large desk busily writing in a book, the valet hovering at his shoulder.  On hearing us enter he turned and smiled warmly.

“And what do my two little friends want in here?  Have you come to watch an old man at work?

“We’re exploring,” said Jamie excitedly.  It was easy to see that Jamie felt a strong attachment to grandpapa.  “I see, and have you found any secret passages or anything?

“Oh no, just some old rooms with old furniture in them.”

Grandpapa laughed heartily at this, “I think you will find they are called antiques Jamie, but yes you are right, it is old furniture.  Don’t forget upstairs, and the gardens too.”

We left grandfather to his work and trundled off upstairs.  There was nothing of note we could find, but for a mystery door that was locked and the key was no where to be seen.  Grandmother’s voice floated up the stairs, bringing to a halt our fruitless investigations.

“Katy, Jamie, could you please come down here for a while.  I have a suprise for you both.”  We scrambled down the stairs as fast as we could, almost falling over each other as we went. 

“In the drawing room sweethearts.”  The suprise was piled high in cardboard boxes, about fifteen to hazard a guess.

“These have just been delivered for you both.  I hope they are all right.  That pile is for you Katy, and this one is for you Jamie.  Here, let me help you.  I think Katy can manage on her own.  Well, what are you waiting for?  Let us see what is inside.”

I grabbed the topmost box.  It was covered in pretty paper with a large pink ribbon on top.  I undid the bow excitedly and tore away the pretty paper.  Opening the lid I brushed aside the tissue paper and gasped at the thing inside.  I took it out to hold it up in front of me.   Instantly I felt the tears begin to collect in my eyes as I looked with pure delight at the most wonderful dress I had ever seen.  It was Lilly white satin covered in lace, high necked with lacy sleeves and pearl buttons.

“Oh look grandma, look at this beautiful dress,” I exclaimed.

“Well, I have never seen a more pretty dress in my whole life! And look at Jamie’s new suit.  Won’t he look grand wearing that.”  It wasn’t as pretty as my dress, but I had to admit, it was very, very nice.  A grey flannel jacket with trousers to match and a smart peaked cap.  Jamie didn’t seem too please with it though.  He didn’t much care if he was dressed nicely or not, a typical boy.  I opened another box, a heavy gabardine coat, another, a pair of sturdy black shoes and another, a cardigan.  Tissue paper and boxes were scattered about all on the floor, but the garments I folded into a neat little pile.  I was so pleased with my gifts I cried with happiness.  But not so Jamie, at least, not until grandma revealed two more large boxes that were concealed behind the couch.  When he opened his he squealed with delight, for inside was a wooden miniature fort complete with a number of small figures.  He tore at the box greedily to extract his prize, a broad grin fixed on his face.  He hugged grandma tightly before turning his full attention on his new toy.  I undid the ribbon on my box very slowly, savouring the mystery of what lay inside.  Taking away the gaily coloured wrapping paper, I folded back the cardboard flaps.  A red wooden triangle top came into view followed by a small window.  I too gasped aloud, as the full model was revealed.  A beautiful doll’s house sat squarely on the floor, painted with the brightest summery colours and complete in every detail, even to the petite intricate furnishings inside.  Little porcelain figures stood awaiting my attention, a complete family.  Only now, years later, can I fully comprehend the symbolic gesture of that beautiful first gift, a complete family in a new house, a new beginning.

The new beginning had begun.   We were here to stay for ever.  These lovely people had taken us to their hearts without reservation.  After all this time there was hope for a better life in my heart.

But, it wasn’t always to be happiness, for the fickle hand of fate cast a tinge of sadness in our path the day we discovered the old barn and the little girl who played there.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE OLD BARNHOUSE

We spent a delightful summer at the house, meeting the many friends of our new grandparents and going for long walks with a picnic lunch packed away in a little basket.  we even went on a trip to the seaside for a day.  Jamie and I had never seen the sea in real life, only in picture books stuffed away in the library where Mrs Pritchard taught us lessons.  No books could ever explain the thrill of that first glimpse of the ocean, that salty breeze whipping in your hair, or the sparkle of many shades of blue when the sun gleamed on it’s surface.  I felt humble in the presence of that vast expanse of water.

We had a lovely time, wading in the shallow water and walking along the promenade.  After a picnic lunch on the sand Jamie and I fed scraps of food to the gulls who practically hopped on our hands to feed themselves.  When it was almost time to go Jamie got lost and it took us almost an hour to find him again.  He was playing with two other young boys with a ball and couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

Jamie quite excelled himself in Mrs Pritchards class room, quickly learning the basic rudiments of reading and writing.  Art too seemed to come natural to him.  Often I would find him drawing pictures, alone in his room with his paints and pencils scattered on the floor.  His paintings hung on the wall like a private exhibition in a gallery.  In the paintings I saw bright colours, yellows, oranges, greens and reds all happy colours reflecting the joy he felt inside.

I too found hidden talents waiting to be tapped inside me.  With me it was poetry.  I pored over every book of verse I could find in the extensive library.  Keats was my very favourite.  He seemed to capture all the beautiful aspects of his themes so that you could almost reach out and touch them.  Try as I might there was always something lacking whenever I tried to copy his style.  But having said that, my own attempts captured a sense of originality in them, even if they weren’t up to Keats standards.  Mrs Pritchards liked the anyway, and it was she who suggested to grandma the I should read some of my work to the ladies of the ‘Townswomen’s Guild’ the next time their meeting was held at our home.  Modesty forbids me to say what their reaction was when I did.

It was the beginning of autumn, when the leaves turn to a crispy golden brown and the flowers are on the wane, that we first encountered the house.  We came upon it quite by accident whilst taking a walk through the grounds.  Grandpapa had always told us that the  buildings dotted about the gardens were strictly out of bounds.  Some were in disrepair and it would be quite dangerous if we fell through a rotting floor, or something fell on top of us.  But to Jamie this was always an invitation for adventure.  He was never naughty, just boisterous, like all young lads of his age.  He would think nothing of climbing a tree to it’s top most branches, hanging precariously from a thin branch.  And always you would ask him why, you would get the same reply. ‘To see if I could.’  The day would come when he would find that he couldn’t and get stuck, then what?  Sometimes he would sneer at me and dare me to do the kind of things he was good at.  I got no praise when I succeeded, but I sure got scorn when I didn’t.  His favourite rebuke at these times was ‘You’re just a girl.  Girls can’t do anything’  I would get so infuriated sometimes that I’d storm off on my own and sulk.

Anyway, this particular day we were engrossed in a game of hide and seek.  Jamie had just managed to find my hiding place quite easily.  He seemed always to have the nose of a bloodhound, when it was his turn to be ‘on’, and he could hide just like a chameleon when it was my turn.  It took me ages to find him and then only when he got bored waiting he would make noises to give me a clue.

I leaned against a large tree and squeezed my eyes shut tight.  I began counting aloud as quickly as I could, but before I had finished I heard his voice calling from nearby. 

“Katy!  Come look and see what I have found.”  He stood about fifty feet away, waving his arms frantically.   “Katy!  Look at this!, he cried again.  I ran towards him, eager to see what was making him so excited.  When I was by his side he pulled back a clump of bushes and clambered through the hole. What I saw made my eyes grow wide with astonishment.  Hidden by the green foliage and long grass was a miniature house.

It stood, perhaps about eight foot high and was made of wood, brightly coloured, with little windows with bright yellow curtains.  It was about six foot square with a bright red roof and red painted door.  A soft crooning voice came from within, singing a sad lullaby.  It was strange how the small house was so much surrounded by twisting weeds and overgrown grass, when the house it’s self look beautifully new and gaily coloured.  It was sure out of place in  this part of the grounds.

We stared at each other is disbelief.  Who had built this lovely house and for whom?  Someone was definitely playing in it now, who could it be?

“Hello” I shouted.  “Who are you?”  The lullaby suddenly stopped and a sinister silence prevailed.  “Hello! I called once more, no answer came.  I tried peering through the windows but the curtains were shut tight.  Before I could prevent him, Jamie grasped the handle of the door and pushed.  The door swung open on well oiled hinges and sunlight flooded into the one room house.  At first we could only see a little of the room.  There was a carpet on the floor and we could see part of a small table.  Jamie was all set to enter but I held him back with my arm.  “Pardon us for intruding,” I called through the open doorway, “we mean no harm.  Don’t be afraid.” Still there was no reply.  We’re sorry for disturbing you, honestly.  Is this your play house?  It’s very beautiful.”  We waited and waited but so sound came in reply.  I looked at Jamie, then at the house.  “OK, we shall leave you alone if that’s what you want.  Come on Jamie, let’s be on our way.”  I turned to go, but then a soft voice called from inside the house.

“Please don’t go.  Don’t go.” it was the voice of a little girl, a sad mournful voice, full of anguish and pain.  A small white hand curved round the door and opened it wide to reveal the full extent of the room.  The girl shuffled to the doorway and I gasped aloud.  Apart from a few minor differences it was like looking at a mirror image of myself!  Even Jamie stepped back a few paces on seeing her.  It was remarkable.  If I didn’t know better I would swear she was my twin sister.  The girl too was surprised. 

“You......... you look like me,” she whispered.

“Who are you” I asked.

“I....I don’t know,” she replied dumbly

“Where do you live?”

“Why, here.”

“Come now, you can’t possibly live here.  You must know where you live.”

She bowed her head sadly.  “I can’t remember.  I’ve lived here a long time.”

She looked so sad I instinctively put my arm around her shoulder.  “You mean you can’t remember who you are or where you live?”

“I get confused,” she muttered.

“Katy!  She’s an idiot like some of the kids in the orphanage,”  Jamie exclaimed.

“Hush, don’t be so rude.  It’s not nice to talk that way.”

“But Katy, anyone who can’t remember their....”

“Do shut up Jamie!  Please!”  I scolded.  “Now, do you know your first name little girl?”

The girl began to sob.  “All I know is that I have to stay here.”

“Ugh.... a monster,” cried Jamie.  I gave him a warning glare.

“Who is holding you here?”

“No one, at least I don’t think so.  When ever I try to leave.  I find myself back in this house.”

“You’re not playing a game are you?”  The worried look on the girls face told me she wasn’t.  Maybe she was an idiot like Jamie had said.  I think I was getting as confused as she was.

“Can we look inside your house?,” asked Jamie.

“Jamie!, don’t be so rude.”

“Oh I’m sorry, please come in,” said the girl.  We entered.

The inside walls were painted just as gaily as the outside, with pretty flowers and painted on the furniture that made the room look larger than it really was.  The only real furniture was a small table and two small chairs.  Sat on one of these was a large doll dressed in pink chiffon.  One of it’s eyes was missing and it looked positively ancient.

“If you live here,” said Jamie, “then where do you sleep and what do you eat?.”  It was a good question, for no where was there a bed to be seen.

“Sleep, I can not sleep.  It eludes me these days.  As for food, I have no need for it, for I’m never hungry.”

She was a strange girl and no mistake, and yet, yet I felt she truly believed her words.  It wasn’t until much later that I realised who and what she was.

A voice was calling out in the distance, the voice of Mrs Pritchard.

“We have to go now,” I said to the girl.  “Will you be all right?”

“I think so,” she replied.

“If you’re here tomorrow we will come and play with you.”

“I’d like that,” she said.  “It’s so lonely on my own with no one to talk to.”

“Until tomorrow then.”

We ran towards Mrs Pritchard and surprised her with a loud “boo”

“Goodness gracious,” she exclaimed.  “Wherever have you been?  I’ve been looking ages for you!”

“Well,” said Jamie, “we’ve been.....”

Never mind, never mind.  Just get up to the house.  Dinner is ready and there are guests waiting!  Hurry now or your grandfather will be cross with you!”

And so we rushed to dinner and forgot all about the little girl until it was time for bed.

CHAPTER SIX

HALF  TRUTHS

Mrs Pritchard ushered us into the bathroom to wash and change for dinner.  It was funny how we always had to put on clean clothes for this meal as an hour or so later we would be tucked up in our beds for the night, grandma’s favourite saying was always ‘a good night’s sleep is essential to a growing child’, although unbeknown, or perhaps not, we would always wait for Mrs Pritchards footfalls receding down the stairs before creeping into each other’s rooms and having a natter.

“Are my hands clean nanny?”  asked Jamie holding them out for inspection.

“Well, let’s see, oh, well I suppose they’ll do.  Now hurry children, hurry along to the dining room, and be sure to remember you manners at the table.   The good Reverend is a guest today, so be especially nice.”  I exchanged a grim look with Jamie.  Ever since coming to live in this big house we had been treated once a week to a booming sermon on the evils of wicked ways at the local parish church by ‘the good Reverend’ and always it seemed he would address us personally, though why, I can’t imagine.  I suppose that all the congregation had a little fear in their hearts during his Sunday tirades about sin and what would happen if we weren’t good little children like the man on the cross.  Jamie once said that if that was what you got for being good then he’d rather be a little bad, but he was but just a child and didn’t understand these things.

We knock on the door and waited politely for permission to enter.  Grandfather opened the door side and smiled at us warmly.  “Ah there you are.  Just in time too, we have company to dinner today children, the good Reverend no less.”  The Reverend stood by the window holding his sherry glass close to his chest as though someone might take it from him any minute.  Grandfather steered us toward the large dining table and there we waited for the guest to take his place.

It was a scrumptious meal the did the cook proud.  Even though the effort to avert our gaze away from the good Reverend’s piercing eyes was disconcerting at times, we enjoyed the light humour that circulated round the table, which went to show that perhaps the Reverend was human after all.

After every scrap of food had found a new home in our stomachs and the plates were whisked away as id by magic, grandfather and ‘the good Reverend’ retired into the parlour for sherry and cigars.  When the two men departed, grandma called us to her side and scooped Jamie onto her knee while hugging me close to her bosom.

“Well what have my two little petals been doing today?”

“Playing in the garden grandma,” I answered.

“Yes and we found a secret house where a little girl lives all by herself,” Jamie claimed.  I flashed him a warning to shut up but he either didn’t notice of didn’t care because he carried on telling all our secrets.  “She doesn’t know her name or nothing grandma, and she doesn’t eat anything either.  Can we invite her for diner like the Reverend?”

Grandma looked questioningly at me and although I had no wish to betray Jamie, I felt I had to try and dismiss what he had said.  After all, the little girl was to be our secret.  If they found out about her they might send her packing.

“Jamie don’t be silly, that game is over now.”

“But Katy....”.

“We’ll play again tomorrow.”  Grandma seemed to understand without having to tell her a white lie and that made it all so much easier.

“Perhaps we can invite some real children over for a picnic.  Would you like that?”

“Oh grandma, that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it Jamie?”

“Can we have sticky buns and home made toffee and things,” he asked.

“Well we will have to have a word with cook about that, but I think we can manage it.”

So we spent the remainder of our day thinking up things to do and games to play.

“Can we have the little girl in the woods granny, can we please?”  Grandma smiled and hugged him close. 

“If you like Jamie,” she said, “anything that makes you happy.”  And thank goodness that seemed the end of that.  I hoped.

Mrs Pritchard’s feet shuffled down the corridor and faded on the stairs as usual.  Two minutes later the joining door to our bedrooms swung open and Jamie came skipping into my room and launched himself on my bed.  I frowned at him,  trying my hardest to look cross, but as always it was a hopeless task.   Those sparkling eyes could melt even the coldest hearts without even trying, and that appealing smile radiated happiness.

“Isn’t it exciting Katy?  A party just for us!”

But I refused to answer, he wasn’t going to get off that easy.

“What’s the matter Katy?  Are you annoyed with me?

This was the opening I needed, before my resolve totally crumbled.  “I thought it was going to be our special secret.  I thought we weren’t going to tell anyone about the girl in the woods.”

“I didn’t mean to tell Katy, honest I didn’t.  Don’t be cross with me, I didn’t mean to tell.”

Then I was sorry for shouting at him, after all, he was only a child.  What could I expect?  “Oh Jamie,” I crooned as I held him close.  “I don’t blame you.  It’s just that we are the only ones who know about her.  Perhaps we can help her find out who she is.   If the grownups find her they might think she’s mad and lock her away.  We know what it’s like to be locked away, you wouldn’t want them to do the same to her, now would you?”

“No I guess not,” he said softly.  “I’m sorry Katy.  I’ll try to keep my mouth shut from now on.

“OK.  Let’s forget it for now and get some sleep.”

Next morning we asked Mrs Pritchard if we could take a picnic lunch out into the woods and play there till tea time.

“What a splendid idea,” she beamed.  “It would be so nice to sit on the grass in the sunshine.  We could even make it a nature trail if you like?”

“P..r...  well...... we thought we would go on our own,” I said sheepishly, not wishing to hurt her feelings.

“Oh I see. OK.  I’ll stay here.  I’m sure I can find lots of little jobs to do on my own.”  We had hurt her feelings now and I don’t know about Jamie, but I felt really horrid.  I wouldn’t have hurt Mrs Pritchard for the world.  I decided then that we would have to put off our visit to the barnhouse till we could slip away some other time.

“But there again,” I said to nanny, “a nature trail sounds super.  You could tell us all the names of the different trees and shrubs.  Perhaps we can pick some flowers too and give them to grandma.”

“Well... if you are sure you really want to.”

“Why of course, don’t we Jamie.”  Before he could open his mouth to protest I trod on his foot.  It seemed to do the trick just fine.

So that’s how we came to be sitting on the grass after a long walk through the woods and a picnic lunch of sandwiches and milk.  Nanny sprawled on lazily while Jamie scampered about trying his best to catch butterflies, without much success.  I sat by her side and got to wondering about our new grandparents and why, at their time of life they felt the need to foster two strange children, when they seemed to have everything they could ever want.  I asked nanny.

“Oh Katy, I’m not sure if I should tell you.  It’s a very sad tale.

“Please nanny,” I begged, “please do tell.”  After a brief pause, she seemed to come to a decision.

“Well,” she started, “a very long time ago.  Mr and Mrs Baltimore had a daughter, a beautiful daughter.  Her name was Eva.”

“Our mother was called Eva too.  It’s such a pretty name.”

“Yes, well, things weren’t easy for the child, what with Mr Baltimore working very hard and Mrs Baltimore bad with her nerves.  They couldn’t spend as much time as they  would have liked with her, mind you, I’m not blaming them in any way at all.  No one could have foreseen what would happen, not even me and I was very close to her.  Oh but she was beautiful.  Everyone would comment on how lovely she was.  Because your guardians couldn’t spend too much time with her, they tried to make it up in other ways.  Everything Eva wanted, she got, no matter how big or how costly.  She became very spoilt, and resentful.  What she needed was her parents, but they couldn’t see it, and I must admit, neither did I.

Soon she wasn’t young anymore, she bloomed into quite a young lady, independently so.  All the young gentlemen in the area showered her with invitations to dine and to go to parties.  Then one day something bad happened.  I don’t think you are old enough to understand, but, It was bad.  Things changed after that, some for the better, some for the worst.  Mr and Mrs Baltimore tried very hard to forgive Eva, but by then it was too late.  Eva was beyond help, she needed no one.  Things deteriorated over the next two years, despite the kindness shown to her.   Eventually she ran away with a boy from the village.  Ever since then Mr and Mrs Baltimore tried their best to locate her, but to no avail.  Then they were informed that she died.  Mr and Mrs Baltimore have never forgiven themselves for what happened.  They blame themselves you see.  There....  I feel better now that I’ve told you.  Perhaps that goes part way to answering your question.”

“That’s a very sad tale indeed,” I whispered.

“Yes it is. Now, I think it’s time we packed our things together and went home, don’t you?”

But it didn’t stop there.  All night I wrestled with what I had learned about Eva.  For instance, why was there no evidence that she had lived in this house?, and what was the bad thing that caused her to leave?  Where was she buried?  All this kept we awake till the early hours of the morning.  There was something missing.  I knew it.  But just what it was seemed to mock me from the shadows of half dreams.  I slept restlessly.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE SECRET IS OUT

For the next few days we played in secret with the little girl in the barnhouse.  Although she was continually in a state of confusion, she tried her best to join in the little games we played.  It was as though we had been there forever, and could see no sign of herself ever leaving.  She kept saying the this was her home and that she was waiting, but what for, she could never remember.  A strange feeling grew within us, that somehow we were all linked together, Jamie and I, this house and the sad little girl who had no where to go and nothing to do.  And maybe, just maybe, we were all overshadowed by the sad death of Eva.

The day of the party arrived and a great many children flocked on Mullberry Hill, with their chaperons in tow.  They were all strangers with laughing eyes and runny noses, smiling faces and ragged clothes.  They joined in the games and scoffed the cakes, but hardly any of them tried to make friends with us.  They ran round the gardens with wild abandon, playing tag, kiss and chase, and leap frog, but no one asked us to play.

After a while Jamie and I crept away into the wood to the little barnhouse where we knew we would find a true friend.  We had decided to call her Janice for want of a name to call her, although she insisted the it was not her proper name.  We came to the barnhouse and found our little friend sitting at her table playing with her doll.  She was so glad to see us that she clasped us around the waist and hugged us.  We had grown very fond of Janice right from the start.  It almost seemed that she was ours, a part of us and we a part of her.  Oh what secrets lay hidden in that dormant mind of hers, what mysteries she could tell.  She was like magic in her own world.  She could be anyone she pleased.  We were proud of have her as a friend.

I helped to dress her doll while Jamie sat eating a cream bun he had stuffed into his pocket from the party.  Janice rocked gently back and forth in her chair singing a lullaby that sounded vaguely familiar to my ears.  It had a haunting melody that for some reason made me sleepy.  It brought back fleeting memories of ages past, seen through a heavy black veil, obscuring all but faint glimpses of my mother’s face bending over me, rocking me to sleep in her arms.

We stayed far too long with Janice in the barnhouse, so much so that when eventually we ambled our way back to the house the party was all but over, and people were leaving in the hired coaches that had brought them earlier.  Grandma spotted us and called over that we should bid goodbye to our guests.

After waving the last coach off, Mrs Pritchard ushered us into the study where our guardians were our guardians were engaged in their afternoon topple.  I could tell b the look on grandma’s face that we were about to be told off for leaving the party and wandering off on our own.  After all, they had gone to a lot of trouble on our behalf, and I suppose it was a bit irresponsible of us.  But before grandma could say a word, up piped Jamie.

“Oh grandma what a lovely time we’ve had at the party.  Can we do it again soon!  Oh please grandmar.”  That seemed to break whatever tension there was in the room, because grandmar put out her arms and lifted him up onto her knee and hugged him.

“But where did you get to children?  We couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Well grandmar,” he exclaimed, “one of our friends couldn’t come to the party, so we took the party to her.  She’s ever so lonely on her own.”

“Who petal, who do you mean.”

Our friend Janice, she lives in the wood.”

“But Jamie,” I laughed, hoping they wouldn’t see the deception, “we only pretended.”  He looked at me in amazement, but grandmar seemed to understand.  It was very common for children to make believe that they had a secret playmate that only they could see and no one else.  She laughed and then cuddled him even closer.  That was close.

The next day it was raining so we had to stay indoors.  We got tired of cutting things out of paper and playing with our toys, so we decided to have a game of hide and seek.   let Jamie hide first, but his incessant giggling made it all too easy to discover his whereabouts.   Next it was my turn and I hid upstairs behind a cupboard in my room.  He seemed to take forever before he entered the bedroom, but I was well hidden and he didn’t spot me.  He opened the adjoining door and entered his own room.  Quick as a flash, I crept out of the cupboard and crept into the hallway to hide once more, but once outside I banged into a small table making a slight noise as I did so.  I was passing the locked door at the time when I heard Jamie’s footfalls coming out of the bedroom.  He would surely find me now.  If only the door wasn’t lock I could hide in the room.  I grasped the handle.  It turned.  The door swung slowly inwards.

Quickly I threw myself inside the closed door, putting my back against it for support.  The inane smile on my face froze as my eyes grew accustomed to the dim light.  For there, hanging on the far wall directly opposite me was a large painting of a woman in her finery.  The shock paralysed me, from head to toe, I began to tremble and sweat.  Without realising it I began to cry, silent tears ran down my cheeks like icicles.  My head began to swoon and the last thing I remember before crumpling on the floor was the smile on the face of my mother as she gazed back at me from the rich colours of the painting.

Jamie had long since given up on finding me and alerted out guardians and Mrs Pritchard that I was lost.  It hadn’t occurred to him to try and open the door, as in the past it had always been locked.  They searched the house from top to bottom, whilst Mrs Pritchard looked outside.  Soon there was only one place left unchecked, and Jamie said afterwards that a peculiar look came over our grandparents before they both rushed upstairs to the locked room.

I was told later that grandfather had trouble opening the door, on account of my fallen body being in the way, but when he had, they found me laying on the floor in a state of shock.  Jamie got quite upset when grandfather came out of the room holding me in his arms.  I guess he thought I was dead, and it was all his fault for leaving me on my own.  Poor Jamie.

Grandmar fussed about my bedside awaiting the arrival of the doctor from the village.  I am not sure If I was dreaming, but I am sure a few heated words were exchanged between our grandparents on my account.   Something about the mysterious room and the door being unlocked.  Anyway I know that grandmar cried a lot in those few hours that passed between me entering the room, and the doctor arriving.

The doctor pronounced a mild case of shock and suggested I spend the next day in bed, and peace and quiet too.  On no account was I to get overexcited or agitated in any way.  How could I tell him that my mind was thundering with a thousand unanswered questions and wrestling with indescribable turmoil.  For the first time in almost four years I had looked upon the face of my dear departed mother.  How could I rest without finding the answers to this strange enigma.   I was caught in a growing tide mystery.  And I was slowly drowning.

I felt a sharp prick in my arm and looked up startled into the face of the doctor, only it wasn’t the doctor I saw.  It was the face of my mother, smiling down at me, telling me it would all turn out fine.  Sleep now.  The blackness fringed my vision before the light faded completely.  I slid down the long dark tunnel of half forgotten memories..

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE SHRINE OF EVA

I had plenty of time that following day to reach some kind of partial answers to the problems that had blown up in my face.  But there was still pieces of the jigsaw not yet discovered that were to prove what I had already surmised.

I drifted in and out of sleep that day, and my memories of the activity that undoubtedly surrounded me became a blurred mass of faces and voices.  The drugs that the doctor had administered kept me in a cocoon of peace and tranquillity until early the following day when I awoke ravenously hungry, and just a little weak.  Slithering out of bed I stumbled toward Jamie’s room.  With every passing step I felt my strength returning.  Opening the adjoining door I whispered his name.  He stirred in his bed, the covers wrapped tightly round his small body.  The early morning light cascaded across his face, giving him an air of blissful ignorance.  Poor Jamie, he hardly had the chance to know the love our mother had for him.  He had lost almost all the fond memories that I cherished in my heart, for him, the only life he would allow himself to recall was here, in this house.  Perhaps it was a blessing after all.

Jamie opened his eyes and caught me staring vacantly into his beautiful face.  I blinked at the sound of my name as he sleepily propped himself on one elbow.

“Katy!, Oh Katy!.

“Hush now Jamie, I’m all right.”

“Grandmar, I promised to tell grandmar if you woke early.  Oh Katy, I’m so glad you’re well again.”  I gave him a big tender kiss on his cheek for his caring words, but I had to laugh at his next “I’ve had to stay in the house whilst you where sleeping, but now you are up I can go out again.”

One thing I was dreading was the facing of our guardians.  The truth was out, it lay like an open scar, raw and bleeding.  The forthcoming confrontation would be very hurtful for both of us.  But even then I couldn’t contemplate how hurtful it would be.  Even now the missing jigsaw pieces were being assembled in readiness.  As if the truth wasn’t bad enough, a dark sinister secret was hiding in the wings waiting to surprise all of us.

After bathing and dressing ourselves I led Jamie down the broad stairway that led out into the hall.   Mrs Pritchard was in the dining room and on hearing us enter she gave a loud squeal of delight.

“Upon my soul!  Dear Katy, you are a welcome sight.  We where all quite worried about you.   Does Mrs Baltimore know that you’re up and about?  But the look on my face told her that she didn’t.

“Nanny,” I said, putting all my resolve in my words.  “Tell me about Eva.”

A look of sadness crept over her face and she averted her eyes from my gaze.  “I..... I can’t... I’ve told you too much already.  Please don’t ask me.  It would cause trouble for me if they knew I had told you as much as I have.”

“Nanny, I have to know.  Is... was she.....”

“Please stop,” she implored. “It’s not my place.  You must ask your grandparents.”  I knew then that all my suspicions were correct, there could be no doubt about it.  I must have been a fool not to see it sooner.  Why would a wealthy couple give a home to two strange children who they had never met before?  Why, if they wanted to foster children had they travelled so far from their home.  There were countless orphanages scattered about the country, so why near London?  It all fitted in.  No wonder they wanted so dearly for us to call them grandparents. 

Mrs Pritchard rushed out of the room, no doubt to alert our guardians that I had recovered and needed to talk with them.  She returned a few minutes later following in the wake of grandmar and grandfather.   They rushed to my side and knelt at my feet, as a token repentance of my discomforting ordeal.  Grandmar hugged me to her bosom, but I found I couldn’t return her affection, not yet anyway.  Grandfather held my hand, looking in my eyes for forgiveness.

“Please,” I cried, tears stinging my eyes, “tell me about our mother!”

“Dear, dear Katy.   I promise there will be no deceptions from mow on,” said grandfather softly.  “But please, let us get some wholesome foot in our stomachs first.  Then afterwards we promise, you will know the truth.

We are our breakfast in almost complete silence.  Even though I had not eaten proper food for twenty four hours or more, I found it hard to find my appetite.  I stared down at my plate, nor wishing to meat their eyes across the table.  Poor Jamie was at a loss just as to what was going on.  The undercurrents were all around him, but thankfully he didn’t comprehend the seriousness of the situation.  I envied him his ignorance.

“You must understand,” began grandfather later in his study, “that we had no intention of ever hurting the both of you.  We realise it was wrong of us to try and deceive you, but I hope you can find it in you hearts to forgive us.”

“We did it purely for selfish reasons.  A long, long time ago, we made many mistakes, the result of which plagued us every moment, until we were given a second chance to make amends.  By the grace of God we found you both.  You can’t imagine what that meant to us,” grandmar twisted her necklace nervously as she explained.  “Our daughter was the finest thing to happen in our lives, you see, it was a hard birth, she almost died.  After that the doctors said it would be foolish to try for other children.  So we planned to give her everything.  No other child would be loved more than Eva.  She was our life.  But after a while the need to have more children was a heavy cross to bear, so much so that I suffered a complete breakdown.  George did the best he could, but it wasn’t easy looking after me and Eva as well as to work at the estate.  Too many times Eva had to take second place.  We tried the best we could, but gradually she grew away from us.  It was a slow process and by the time we fully admitted it to ourselves, her heart was hard and resentful.  She blamed me you see, in her mind it was my fault for being ill.  When she needed me I wasn’t there.  She had everything and yet she had nothing.”  Grandma was crying openly now, her husband comforting her.  I wanted so much to embrace them both, but something prevented me from doing so.

“She grew to despise us,” said grandfather, taking the weight from his wife.  “The more we did for her, the more she threw it back in our faces.  We couldn’t blame her.  Where were we when she needed us most.  Things came to a head the day she told us she was with child.  It made grandmar quite ill.  That was it.  She had finally reached her limit.  I was so angry, I told her to leave, but your grandmother begged me to let her stay, even though the strain was telling on her nervous condition.  I relented, and things began to ease.

When the baby arrived things blew up once more.  We idolised you Katy, from the day you were born.  But Eva wouldn’t let us near you.  She said that we had ruined her life, and there was no way we were going to ruin her baby’s.  We always thought we had done our best, but sadly deep down inside we knew this was true.  Given other circumstances Eva might still be here today.

Even without thinking about it, I hugged them both tightly, our tears mingled together as each of us bore our grief.  Grandmar carried on the story.

“You where almost two years old when she left with your father.  She just up and went in the dead of night.   She left a note saying that she was never coming back.  She said it was useless for us to try and find her.  She blamed us for not giving her the love and attention she needed.  At the end she wrote that she loved us dearly, and then the note ended with, ‘I wish you could have loved me more.’

“But why did you not tell us the truth from the beginning,” I sobbed.

“We were afraid child, afraid and ashamed.  If your mother had told you of us, then you might have held it against us.  You wouldn’t have believed our story and you would have hated us.  We didn’t want that,” said grandfather.  And grandmar added

“We still feel guilty.  It’s like a dark shadow that will never leave us.  A stain against her memory.  When we eventually found that she had died, our last hopes of reconciliation was lost.  The only thing that was left to do, was find the both of you and bring you home.  I only hope that before she died she found it in her heart to forgive us.

I was choked with emotion.  What could I say?  How could I end this heartbreak that was tearing them both apart?

Grandfather stood up.  He seemed older than he had an hour or so ago, as if the telling of the story had aged him rapidly.  Dark shadows lay under his eyes, and sadness hung around him like a shroud. 

“Come now,” he said, “come and take possession of what is rightfully yours.”  He took my hand in his and he and grandmar led me up the stairs to the locked door.  Fear tightened it’s grip around me as the door swung inwards.  We stepped inside.  Inside the shrine devoted to Eva, my mother.

CHAPTER NINE

JANICE

The portrait of my mother dominated my vision, drawing all my attention, like a magnet.  She was younger than I remembered her, but oh so beautiful.  There was no mistaking that warm smile.  The one she had whenever things were going her way, or the laughing eyes that always seemed to sparkle.

“That was painted when she was just eighteen,” said grandfather as he put his arm around my shoulders.  “It was her birthday present from us.  I used to hang it in my study, but I had to move it.  It was a constant reminder of my failings.  Looking upon it now and then brings back all the memories.  But I have to look at it, I suppose, it’s my penance.”

“Our torture,” put in grandmar softly.

For the first time I looked around me, at the beautiful things that surrounded the room.  All the things that a person collects during their childhood were here, in this room.  Each item represented precious memories for my grandparents.  It looked to me as if the room had only just been vacated that morning.   Not a speck of dust was in evidence and the bed was freshly made, awaiting it’s former occupant to return from the dead and wallow on it’s soft matters.  The heavy velvet curtains had been drawn back to let the sunlight of the new day bring to life, that which was lost forever.

They had kept everything as it was left.  It struck me that they regarded this room as a shrine to their dead daughter, a place to come to whenever they needed to be close to her, or worse still, a constant reminder that they had failed.

A hand mirror and bottles of expensive perfume stood on the dresser.  A rag doll lay propped upon the pillow.  Two chests awaited someone to delve in their interiors and extract the treasures within.  A tall wardrobe stood in a corner, hat boxes piled high on it’s top.  An ivory trinket box sat upon the bedside table.

“All this is your now Katy.  Keep it or throw it away.  It really does not matter any more.  All we ask is that you don’t hate us, that you try and understand.”

“I’d ....... I’d like to be alone,” I whispered softly.

“Of course,” replied grandfather.  They left the room, closing the door quietly behind them.  I could faintly hear Mrs Pritchard and Jamie playing in the garden outside.  I shuffled to the window feeling much older than my young age of nine.  It was almost too much to bear for one so young.  Looking down through bleary eyes I wondered about poor Jamie.  All this was quite beyond his reasoning, thank God.  At least he was spared the heartbreak of this confrontation.  For him things would remain basically the same, I would see to that.

I ran my fingers over the soft cover of the bed.  My hands found the rag doll patiently awaiting.  Someone who would hold her as my mother had done so long ago.  I threw myself on the bed and sobbed my heart out.

I cant remember how long I slept, maybe a lifetime, or just an hour.  When I awoke I felt a little better.  I decided that I had the strength to examine my mother’s belongings, without anymore tears.  Sliding off the bed I walked slowly toward the wardrobe with it’s full length mirrors.  My reflection stared back at me and I couldn’t resist another look at the portrait on the wall.  Glancing back and forth, I tried to compare my face with that of my mother’s.  Some aspects were easy to associate, the dimples in my cheeks for instance, and the wide sparkling eyes.  But others were harder to place.  Lake the auburn hair of my mother, compared with my blonde hair, her full lips to my narrow ones, and her freckles compared with my own milky complexion.  Doubtless, all these latter traits were inherited from my father.

I opened the wardrobe slowly, anticipating what lay inside.  There was a rail full of beautiful dresses, coats and wraps.  Clothes for every occasion.  One particular dress caught my eye, a lovely red chiffon with a lacy collar.  I took it down from the rack and held it against me in front of the mirror.  It trailed on the floor indicating just how tall my mother was.  I tried to imagine her wearing it at a ball, dancing with an elegant gentleman, while the orchestra played a Strauss waltz.  I twirled round until the dress swirled around my feet in a smooth motion, losing myself in the fantasy.  I wrapped a mink stole around my shoulders, swooning in the feel of the expensive fur against my skin.

I put the clothes back on the rail and closed the doors, before turning my attention towards the two large chests of draws.  There were two porcelain statuettes of little girls, resting on lacy doilies, and an array of exotic bottles of perfume. The trinket box dominated the other set of draws.  It was to this that I was drawn first.  On opening the lid, the gentle music of Brahms Lullaby floated in the room.  The box was full of an assortment of rings, bracelets and neck chains, all looked quite authentic and expensive.  I picked out a gold locket on a chain.  I prized open the clasp.  Inside was a photograph of my mother with a man I knew to be my father.  I decided I would wear it around my own neck, near to my heart.

In the first set of draws was an assortment of undergarments, blouses and skirts.  But in the second there was a lot more to catch my eye.  A leather Bible with an inscription on it’s inside cover that read ‘To Eva, on her first holy communion, nineteen hundred and two’, a programme from a concert by the Royal Philharmonic, featuring none other than Georgio Ludwic the famous Czech composer.  A small tutu was wrapped carefully in tissue paper, a remnant of mother’s days at the ballet class.  Then I found a box with old letters inside.  Most were from female friends, but a bundle tied in pink ribbon were from gentlemen admirers.  A sense of intrusion prevented me from reading them.

Then came the greatest find of all.  A large red leather book full of photographs.   I opened it at the first page.  Under each photo was a small adage, explaining where it was taken, who was in the photograph and lastly what they were doing.  The first one was of a woman who I recognised as a much younger Mrs Pritchard holding a small baby in her arms, she was smiling at the camera.  Underneath was the notation, ‘Nanny and me, aged three weeks.’  The sepia colour made it hard to distinguish the baby’s features very well, it was blurred and fuzzy.  The next one was a little better.  ‘My first steps unaided’. and the next.  ‘My first birthday party.  This showed grandmar knelt down on the carpet while mother tried her best at pulling grandmar’s paper hat off her head.

I skipped a few pages, glanced at others, after all, there would be enough time to look more closely at the album, but there were more treasures to be discovered in the drawers.   I placed the album on top of the chest and delved down once more.  A small red book caught my eye, in gold lettering was the word ‘Diary’ on it’s cover.  Pulling it out I inadvertently knocked the photo album to the floor.  It lay open on the carpet and as I bent to retrieve it, I froze.  My eyes grew wide, my hand fluttered to my mouth and the quickening of my heart threatened to explode in my chest.

The album lay open to the back of the book.  Three photographs stared up from the yellowing pages.  Three faces.  Three.  I knew them all.  Each photo bore the same smiling face, different poses, but the same girl.  How could this be?  A trick, some fiendish plot on behalf of my grandparents?  Why, for what reason?  I reached down to pick the book up.  My hands were shaking so much, I found it hard to read the inscriptions underneath.  ‘Me aged seven’, ‘Me and my new dolly’, Me on my rocking horse.’  I looked on the next page, then the last, all the same girl.  I checked the handwriting with that in the diary, the same.  Perhaps a little different, but the characteristics were the same.

It was all too confusing.  It was making my head ache.  I had searched for old memories and stumbled on an enigma that was quite beyond my belief.  I looked at the photos once more, hoping that I had made a mistake.  But I hadn’t, it was her.  The girl in the photos was none other than my mysterious friend from the barnhouse, Janice.

CHAPTER TEN

A TIME OF FORGIVENESS

I rushed into the study with the book held closely in my arms.  My grandparents looked up in alarm as I crashed through the door.

“Whatever is the matter child!,” cried grandmar in alarm

“This book,” I said quickly.  “Who’s is this book.”

“Why it was your mothers.”

“No, no it can’t be.  You’re mistaken!”

“Why?  What have you found,” asked grandfather.

“These photos!  Some of them can’t be my mother.”

“I don’t recall.... here, show me what you mean.”

I put the book on the table and opened it.  There, theses and these.

“That’s Eva.  She was seven years old when...”

“No! No! It’s Janice.  These photos are of Janice.”

“Who is Janice? asked grandmar.

“She id my friend!  She lives in the wood, at the small barnhouse in the wood!

I know the one.  Eva used to go there when she wanted to be on her own.  It was her private, secret place.  You say you’ve seen a girl there?”

“Her.”  I said pointing to the photograph, “it was her.”

“You must be mistaken.  It can’t possibly be.”

“It is her I tell you!  She lives in the wood.  If you don’t believe me ask Jamie, he’ll tell you!“

Grandfather walked to the window and called to Mrs Pritchard to bring Jamie to the study.  Right away he came running in, followed by nanny.

“Jamie,” said grandfather.  “Will you do something for me?  Will you look at these photos and tell me who you see?”  He opened the book on the table.

Jamie looked at me after looking at the photos.  He seemed undecided as to whether I would be cross or not, if he told.  I gave him a slight nod.

“That is Janice grandfather.  Do you know her?”

“You are sure Jamie?  You are sure it is you friend?  Look more closely.”

“Oh yes that’s Janice.  She will be glad that you know who she is.”

“My God,” cried grandmar nervously.  “George!  What is going on here!  Surely it can’t be!”

“Katy,” said grandfather trying his best to keep calm, “tell us everything you know about this little girl, everything.  Even if it makes no sense to you.”

So I told them.  I told them how Janice wasn’t her real name, only that we had given it to her because she couldn’t remember her own.  How she had no recall of her past, or how she came to be there.  Hoe she felt that she had something to do, something very important.  She couldn’t leave until she had done what it was she had to do.  She didn’t eat or sleep.  She was seldom happy, rather, living a morose existence, as if it was her penance to suffer.  I told them how alike we both were and the closeness we felt towards her, a bond.  She belonged here and could never leave until her deed was done.

After a pause in which to comprehend what I had told them, grandfather asked.

“Katy, when was it that you first suspected that I and my wife were your real grandparents?   I thought, but what this had to do with Janice, I couldn’t grasp.

“I don’t really know,” I said after a while.  “I suppose I had an ides right from the start.  If I really thought about it, I could never quite understand why you chose us especially.”

“Katy, I know we were wrong in doing what we did, and I suppose that you have got good reason to angry with us but..... this thing..... this thing with Janice, you’re not, not

 doing this to hurt us are you?”

“Doing what?  I don’t understand.”

“Well what your grandfather is trying to say Katy is are you making all this up to get back at us?

“No!”  I stormed, “Janice is real!  You don’t have to believe me!”

They looked at each other, the pain and frustration clearly visible on there seemingly much older faces.  They were wrestling with a dilemma, that maybe if Janice did exist and things were as I’d explained, then quite possibly, beyond the realms of impossibility, their daughter had returned in the shape of an innocent seven year old little girl, who could not remember her name.  I can’t recall how this all affected Jamie and myself.  I suppose being quite young, we were more susceptible to the far fetched mysteries of heaven and earth.  We had not then shrugged off the cloak of childish imaginations.  We could accept far more than any grownup person would care to admit.  But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t look upon Janice as being our mother.  To me she was as she had always been, a mysterious little girl who needed us to be her friend.  If she was mixed up about her situation, then now I could understand just what she was going through.

In the slight pause that ensued, an unspoken agreement passed between out grandparents, one that indicated that maybe they believed me, at last.  It must have been very hard for them both, as now, when this incident is far behind me, and the warm memory still glows in my heart, I wonder if perhaps it was all a dream.  When you grow up, society teaches you to, put away all childish things and believe only in that which is real.  Only a child can understand truly, that nature of reality, only a child is truly unbiased.

“Katy,” said grandmar softly, “will you take us to the barnhouse, will you take us to see Eva?”

And so, grandfather, grandmar, Mrs Pritchard, Jamie and myself all hurried to the little barnhouse.  On the way my mind was full of doubts.  Was Janice, Eva?  If she was then how would she react on seeing her parents who from their own admission had neglected her, although they had good reason?  Would she recognise them or would her mind remain blank.  And for that matter, if her memory did come back, then how would she react to us, her children?  That is of course if Janice was Eva.  If.

We arrived at the clearing in the woo.  Beyond the bushes lay the little barnhouse.  I was struck with the fear that this whole encounter was a waste of time.  It lay in my stomach like a heavy weight, whilst tiny butterflies fluttered around my heart.  Grandmar looked nervously at the partly observed house twenty feet away, there was an expectant look in her eyes.  Grandfather moved forward, but I held my arm out and said. 

“No, wait, give me a moment to prepare her.  You may startle her.”

Jamie and I knocked on the door.  “Janice, it’s me Katy,” I called as I turned the knob and entered.  Janice was sitting on the floor, rocking gently to and fro with her doll clutched to her chest.  She looked so pitiful sitting there.  Could this really be Eva, or more to the point, Eva’s unsettled spirit?  To me she was just plain Janice, the little girl we had accidentally come across, whilst playing in the wood.  Maybe to Jamie she would remain the same forever, because he was far too young to understand.  But the next few minutes were to remain indelibly etched on my mind forever.

“Hello Katy, have you come to play with me again?”

“No Janice, not today,” I said softly.  “I have brought someone with me to see you.”

“No Katy!  I don’t want to see anybody else!”

“But these people may know who you are.”

“Who I am?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes Janice.  You want to know who you are, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, yes!”

“Perhaps if you see them you may remember.”

“Who are they”

“Well, I’ll tell them to come in shall I?”

“Oh Katy, I’m scared.  Do you think.... will they...”

“Don’t be afraid.  I’ll be here, and Jamie too.”

I opened the door and called out to them to come in.  Grandmar raced ahead of the rest, she practically bowled me over in the process.  Janice gave a loud gasp at the first sight of grandmar.  When she was followed by grandfather and Mrs Pritchard her eyes flew wide and tears burst from her eyes.  Momma.  Papa!”  She rushed forward throwing her arms about them, in a wild attempt to clasp both of hem at once.  She knew them.  As I had hoped, the sudden shock had wiped away the veil that hung across her memory.  I tried not to think that this girl was quite possibly the ghost of my mother, rather, I wanted to savour this encounter for as long as it lasted.

“Well,” said grandfather looking around annoyed, “where is she?”

”But she’s.... you mean.... you mean you can’t see her.”

I warn you girl, if this is your idea of a joke, it is in poor taste.”

But she’s right in front of you!  Holding you both.”

Grandmar was crying, but a smile was on her face as she said.  “George.  It is Eva, she is here.”

“There is no one here.” he bellowed.

“I can feel her, not in the normal sense no, it is....  it is something.... her presence.  She is here George, Eva is here.”

“But Anna...

“Open your heart and let her in, do not deny her George.”

I watched as his face turned from anger to wonderment to peaceful serenity in the short space of a moment.  He looked in his heart and there she was waiting for him.  He too began to cry, together with his wife.  Eva/Janice clung to them with a passion.  I can only hint at, without wandering off into pages of ecstasy.  It was truly moving.  Even Mrs Pritchard was touched with the love that seemed to be bursting at the very foundations of the little house.

After a time that lasted forever, Eva/Janice looked up into the crying faces of her parents and through her tears asked the question which had held her here, since her untimely death.  The question that had prevented her from finding eternal rest.

“Please,” she sobbed, “please forgive me, say you forgive me.”  Her parents never heard the anguish in her voice, they could not see or hear her, they only felt the presence of the child they had lost, so long ago.  Eva/Janice looked round at me with pleading eyes.

“She asks that you forgive her,” I repeated to them both. 

A tortured cry escaped from grandfather’s lips.  “Oh my baby,” he sobbed, “Oh my baby.

“You must tell her, she’s waited a long time.”

“How can I forgive her, when it is we who ask for forgiveness.”

“Papa! Papa!  You can’t blame yourself or mamma!  It was I who broke your hearts, please, please, you must forgive me or I will never rest in peace.

I told them.  If you have ever experienced joy and sadness together, then you may appreciate what they were going through.  I can not discount my own feelings on this matter either.  I was almost willing them to release her, saying the words over and over in my head.

“We forgive you Eva, with all our hearts we forgive you,” cried grandmar.

“We only hope that you will forgive us,” sobbed grandfather.

“I love you all dearly,” said Eva/Janice

“We love you too, we never stopped loving you.”

A strange thing began to happen, at least for Jamie and I, as we were the only ones who could see her, it did.  Eva/Janice began to fade, ever so slightly at first.

“Oh,” I exclaimed, when I first began to notice.

“Papa! Mamma! I can’t see so good!  Hold me.... I’m going..... no... not yet..... a little more time.... little more..... tired.... so tired.... rest.... love you all..... love you ..... Katy.... Jamie.....”  She faded completely once, came back, faded again and was gone forever.  Without seeing her, they knew she was gone.  A quiet silence lay heavy all around.  There was nothing left but an empty space where she once stood, empty and sad.

That is the end of my tale, suffice to say that many years have passed since this strange encounter that came and brought relief to a tires old couple and the daughter they had cherished beyond any other.  Grandfather died last spring leaving Jamie to be the new master of Mullberry Hill.  I am now married with two children of my own, although we still live at the big house.  Grandmar and Mrs Pritchard spend quite a lot of time together now, playing whist and knitting clothes for my new baby that is on the way.

And Eva, my mother had pride of place in the drawing room where she may be watching with pride the lovely family she left behind in death.

THE END

  BY TONY BROOKS

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED)
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