The first thing I did in the morning was pull out my laptop. I sat at the counter, with the charger plugged.
'You've still got another month until school begins, Kelly,' Mrs Jenkins said.
'I know mum, but I need to buy these test tubes. Don't ask me why, it's written on the list of things that I need,' I responded.
'Hmm, ok dear.'
'Actually, mum, can you not get some from work?' I asked. It made so much more sense.
'No, darling, no,' she answered back.
'Ok, fine. You're going to have to buy me these then,' I stated with a smile. I pushed my laptop towards her and jumped off the stool. My next stop was the local library. I was told that the history of this place would be found there.
I also had cookies to hand out to the neighbours. How else was I going to get to know them?
'Mum, I'm going to the library. I'll hand out the cookies tomorrow,' I said.
'So early? I haven't even left for work.'
'I just want to get to know the neighbourhood. I won't be long. Besides, Jamie has already started school, so you don't really need me,' I gave her another smile. It felt good to have something to do.
I pulled out the map from my satchel and located the library. I could have used my phone, but it just did not feel right. I was living in an area that seemed to throw history at you. My phone would come in good use when I needed to know the time. As soon as I stepped out, my phone beeped. Looking down at the sender, I noticed it was just dad.
'I will be back by 5pm,' I muttered to myself and pushed my phone deep into my satchel.
I continued on, following the instructions on the map. There were no bus stops, which meant that I had to walk. The nearest station was Virginia Water station. Although, that was a distance off too.
Looking back at the house, it dawned upon me just how big our house was. How big the surrounding houses were. We were there temporarily though. Everything would be back to normal soon.
I finally located the library. It looked old fashioned too. Living in the 21st Century, one would have expected some modernisation. The books inside probably were.
'Hi, I want to sign up to the library,' I stated sweetly.
I had dressed neatly, the perfect bookworm style. I had my glasses on, hair tied up in a pony tail, and a light smile pasted on my face.
The old lady smiled back at me. 'Come through, sweetie,' she ushered me in. 'You're new here, right? I have not seen you here before.'
I nodded and tried to pass off some excitement. I was in a library. My own room could have been a library, that's if I bothered to unpack the boxes.
'I'm really interested in the history of the neighbourhood.'
Was it me, or did she suddenly freeze? She looked scared.
'No, dear, there is no history,' she shook her head.
I looked around the centre, it was literally empty. A man appeared by her side. He looked in his late 30s maybe, with light brown messy hair. He ruffled his hair. I will admit, if I walked past this man on the streets, I would do a double take. I blame the hormones.
'Come now, Mrs Donald, we have a vast history here.' He took a hold of my hand and sent me a big smile. 'Come with me, young girl, and I'll show you just how far back we go,' he began pulling me along.
'Please do,' I said, 'I want to do some research. I've recently moved in and will start school soon, so I want to be able to impress the teacher.' I was not really lying.
I pulled out my notebook and pen as we walked around the library.
'Sorry, I did not ask for your name. So rude of me,' I stopped.
'Ah, don't be silly. My name is Derek Jones,' he smiled. 'And what is your name, young girl?'
Something clicked at the back of my brain. I felt like I was writing something in my mind and filing it away. Surely this was how Sherlock Holmes worked.
'I'm Kelly. Nice to meet you,' I answered by stretching out my hand.
'So very polite,' he said. I could be charming when I wanted to be.
'So, the history?' I pushed forward.
'Well, my own history goes back a long way. You know, my great great grandfather was the priest. There was a small chapel here, a long time ago, and he led it. I don't know how many 'great' I need to add, but I remember that my father would never stop talking about him.
I screwed my eyes slightly. 'What was so good about him?'
'Oh I don't know. I'm not into superstitions or anything, but apparently he saved the village,' he rolled his eyes.
'Why? Do you not believe it?
YOU ARE READING
The Boy in the PaintingMystery / Thriller
'Death is our best friend from childhood. It is just lost in this cruel world. When it finds its friend, what happens, only it decides. Has Death found its best friend? We will find out tonight,' Father Jones calmly stated. I like drawing, so yes, t...