Chapter One
1
Every joint in the old woman's heavy set body, ached with age as she made her way over to the sink with the lunchtime crockery. The last thing she needed was for her husband to act like a pain as well.
"Hurry up and finish with that cup Tom"
"For goodness sake woman, what's all this rush in aid of?" barked her husband from behind his newspaper at the kitchen table.
"That Canadian bloke's coming to stay at the big house today and I want to make sure that everything's right before he gets there. You know what some of these foreigners are like!"
"So he's going to be staying up at the big house alone is he?" Tom Hughes closed his paper and set it down on the table.
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Mrs. Hughes glanced down at her watch. "Christ-all-bloody-mighty, look at the time. He'll be there soon."
"Well, what business has he got up there anyway?"
"He's working on some book about the old place so Amble down the post office tells me."
"And how long's he going to be up there then?"
"I don't know. 'Till he's finished it I expect. Now if that's the end of twenty questions I've got to get over there before he does."
"But you've got time to make me another cuppa before you step out haven't you?" the old man moaned.
"No, I bloody haven't! You'll have to make it yourself!" Mrs. Hughes dropped the crockery into the sink. "And while you're at it you can sort that lot out as well." She peeled off the pink washing-up gloves, walked out of the kitchen and grabbed a light jacket from the coat hook by the front door.
"Bloody hell woman, sometimes I wonder why I bothered marrying you in the first place," Tom Hughes whined, not bothering to venture out to the hallway after her.
That was her husband all over these days, selfish and bone-idle.
"Ha, who else would bloody have you's what I'd like to know. Now get off your bony old arse and do something useful for a change."
She heard her husband's protests as she closed the front door behind her but took no notice. She had more important things to take care of up at the big house.
2
The car pulled up on the driveway of Munford House, an imposing old building which – by its appearance – had once been very beautiful. Now ivy crept all along the front wall and had started to invade the pitched roof and one of the four large chimneys, only leaving the odd patch of red brickwork or charcoal-coloured slate to show through the tangled plant life. Most of the front lawn had been overrun by large clumps of knotted weeds, which had even encroached on the deep gravel driveway.
Eleven-year-old Tamicka Moon watched as her father climbed out of the car and strolled around to the boot. He pulled out the two suitcases then made his way up the stone steps to the double front door. Tamicka stayed in the passenger seat, swallowed hard on the lump in her throat and wondered if things would ever go back to the way they had been before. Holding back her tears, she took a deep, shaky breath, opened the door and climbed out into the hot afternoon sunshine.
The little girl walked over to the house, climbed the four worn, stone steps and stood behind her father. He reached up for the old-fashioned lever and pulled it. A bell rang from somewhere inside, distant yet clear. There was no answer. When the bell still hadn't been answered on the second pull Tamicka's father pushed hard against one of the two tall solid panels. The door gave a little and then slowly opened.
Tamicka didn't enter. She just watched from the doorway as her father walked through the little foyer with the cases. Only when he had disappeared through the smaller oak panelled door directly opposite did Tamicka cross the threshold, making sure to close the front door behind her.
What appeared to be a condemned shell of a building from the outside looked completely different once she had walked into the entry hall. The walls of the foyer were clean and white. There were no cracks in the plaster, no flaking paintwork, not even the slightest hint of a cobweb could be seen. The black and white marble tiles, which covered the floor, were pristine. Tamicka could see her reflection in them as if she was looking down at mirrored glass. She liked the click-clack sound her shoes made as she walked across them towards the second door through which she had seen her father disappear. It was like moving across a giant glass chessboard where she was the only piece.
When Tamicka entered the main hall it was as if she had been transported back through time. She imagined that nothing much had changed from the time the house had first been lived in. Three solid oak doors lined the wall to her left and four to her right, each with a shiny brass doorknob and coat of polished lacquer. At the far wall, another two doors of exactly the same description flanked the magnificent central staircase. The black and white tiles continued throughout the main hall but for the strip of carpet with its William Morris floral pattern, which led from the entry hall to the great staircase. The crystal chandler had probably been added much later when gas had given way to electricity but it still managed to look in keeping with the rest of its surroundings.
The little girl explored the ground floor in wide-eyed amazement, going from one huge, antique filled room to another. From the study to the large reception room, through to the massive living room. Each one had walls covered in expensive looking wallpaper with an embossed burgundy, blue or green floral pattern on a cream background. Some of the floors were covered with plush, deep pile carpets; others had luxurious antique rugs laid over the same chessboard floor tiles as in the main hall.
Tamicka finally reached the last door on the left. She turned the handle and pushed it open. After the cool shade of the great hall, the brilliant sunlight that beamed through the glazed wall in front of her dazzled Tamicka for a few seconds and she raised her left hand to shield her eyes. She stood in the doorway just long enough for her eyes to adjust. The room was cluttered with easels, canvases and paint pallets of all shapes and sizes. On the white painted wall to her left hung half finished paintings, landscapes mostly, that looked like some of the countryside she and her father had passed through on their long drive up to the house.
On the wall to her right was a painting that was different from all the others, a portrait of a girl about her age standing in front of an old house. Tamicka thought that the girl looked how she herself had felt every day since her father had moved her away from all of her friends and family in Canada; sad, frightened, but most of all alone. The girl in the picture looked like she really didn't want to be anywhere near that strange old house surrounded by dense woodland. Her right hand pointed accusingly behind her towards it as the smoothly painted features stared wide-eyed directly at the newcomer. Tamicka didn't want to look at it. The painting frightened her but she couldn't tear her eyes away from it.
A bump from somewhere upstairs startled her back to reality and she looked up at the ceiling high above her head.
Daddy?
She brought her gaze down to the painting again, but only for a second, then she turned to the door and made her way out to the main hall.
Tamicka climbed the first flight of steps up to the landing where the stairway branched off in opposing directions. She ascended the flight to her left and went through the door at the top of the stairs into a passage that was decked in velvet wallpaper and rich, dark wood panelling. In the dim pink light that filtered through the stained glass of the window at the far end of the passage, Tamicka saw four doors to her left exactly like those down in the main hall, each one flanked on either side by a silver light fitting in the design of a creeping vine. She ran her fingers along the soft wallpaper in search of a switch, found it not far from the door next to her and flicked it down. In a second the whole passage came alive, bathed in a subtle amber glow.
Tamicka just stood for a moment waiting for the slightest sound but none met her ears. She walked slowly towards the first door and placed her ear against the warm wood. She raised her hand to tap on the door when she heard footsteps and the sound of something being dragged across the floor from one of the rooms at the far end of the hall. Tamicka walked along the passageway and found herself shivering against the cold that she hadn't noticed before. She hugged her goose-pimpled arms across her chest and rubbed them in the hope of generating some warmth. As she neared the door she heard more shifting sounds from inside the room.
What's daddy doing in there?
Tamicka gingerly tapped on the door. Everything went quiet for a long moment and then, just as she was about to knock on the door a second time, it happened again. This time, the sound was louder and longer, like something had been dragged up against the door. She grabbed the brass doorknob. It was colder than she had expected, almost as if it was made of ice. The biting cold made her entire arm feel numb but she held on as tight as she could. She tried to turn it but it wouldn't budge. The door was shut fast.
"Daddy?" she called, but there was no answer. "Daddy, what's going on?
Tamicka tried the door again but it still wouldn't move. She got down on her knees and tried to look through the keyhole but it was no use; the room was shrouded in darkness.
"It's me daddy, please open the door," she cried, banging her closed against the icy wood. She was frightened. she didn't want to be alone in the big old House.
The door through she had entered at the end of the passage opened letting a little more light in from the main hall and Tamicka saw her father standing there. She kept her eyes fixed on his as she stood up. "Sorry daddy." She didn't know why she said it but it was all she could think of. She straightened out her dress, smoothed back the fine golden hairs, which had become stuck to her clammy forehead and waited for him for him to say something. He didn't say a word but she could see the discontent on his face.
"I heard somebody in there." Her words made no impression on him, his steely blue eyes kept her rooted to the spot. Tamicka tried to look away but she couldn't. "I could hear things being moved around and I thought it was..." she broke off for a moment noting the anger on her father's face. "Something seems to be blocking the door because it won't budge." Tamicka could hear the desperation in her own voice. "Try it yourself if you don't believe me."
Her father walked towards her. Not knowing what he was about to do, she backed away and was relieved when he stopped outside the door. Tamicka noticed that he didn't flinch as she had when his hand came into contact with the cold brass. She watched as he turned it. There was a click, then the door opened smoothly and the bright summer sunshine spilled out of the room and flooded the passageway. He gave her another fierce stare before he walked into the room.
The heat was stifling, magnified by the glass of the two huge sash windows. Her father had managed to open one of them, the one closest to the door, but it did little to abate the stuffy atmosphere. The room looked as if nothing had been touched in ages. A thick layer of dust covered everything and the smell of mildew hung heavy in the air. There was a bed over by the far window, which was lost under a huge pile of dolls and teddy bears. By the side of the bed, there was a small, old-fashioned locker on top of which lay a stack of dusty, old books. Against the opposite wall from the bed was a dressing table with a large, oval shaped mirror. On top of the dressing table sat a silver brush and comb set and a small threadbare, toy dog with one eye missing. Tamicka walked over to the dog and picked it up, holding it tight to her chest.
"Well?" said her father as he stared out of the open window.
"I did hear something daddy, I swear I did," Tamicka felt tears of frustration well up in her eyes.
"Right; and you also said that the door was locked!"
"But it was."
"That's it! I don't want to hear another word out of you, do you understand?"
"But I swear to god I'm telling you the truth," she yelled back at him.
He turned around and walked towards her. "And I told you that's enough of this bullshit."
"But..." Before she even had time to flinch he brought his hand down hard against her cheek. The slap sent shockwaves through her entire body. It was the first time he had ever hit her. Tamicka clutched her hand to her left cheek, now ablaze with stinging heat. The other arm still hugged the toy dog close as her tears finally burst their banks. For a moment she thought that she had recognised a look of concern in his eyes. Only for a second, but she was sure it had been there.
"You blame me that mommy's gone, don't you?" Tamicka yelled. "You always have." "Can't you see that I'm hurting too? I miss her too daddy."
Her father turned away from her without saying a word and walked out of the room leaving Tamicka alone again.
3
"Oh, bugger!" Mrs. Hughes cursed when she noticed the black Audi A4 parked outside the 'Big House'. It was only a quarter to three. She hadn't been expecting Mr. Moon for at least another two hours. "I s'pose I'll never get anything done now."
She took a paper tissue from her pocket and dabbed at the beads of sweat on her forehead. The car was empty and there was nobody in sight. Probably off looking round the grounds, she reasoned as she slid the longest of the keys on her ring into the deadbolt keyhole. The ritual was always the same; pull the key out ever so slightly, twist a little to the left, then all the way around to the right until she heard the satisfying click as the bolt was drawn back.
"See, I've still got the knack you temperamental old thing," she beamed down at the lock as she withdrew the key and pushed open the double door. "Right, first things first, put the kettle on," the old woman muttered to herself as she made her way across the shabby black and white floor tiles. One of these days I'll scrub the shine back into these, she thought.
On entering the main hall Mrs. Hughes was shocked to see that she had left the light on and the dining room door ajar.
"Maybe I'm losing my touch after all," she said, heading straight for the room at the far end of the hall.
Her initial inspection of the dining room showed nothing out of place, but before she had even gone through to the kitchen, Mrs. Hughes could see that the garden door was wide open. Soft unsteady sobs came from that direction but the bulky, kitchen table obstructed her view of the lower part of the doorway. The old woman advanced slowly until Just over the top of the table the back of a girl's head came into view. Sunlight beamed over the child's golden locks as she sat on the step, her slight frame shaking in time with her sobs. The girl was so lost in her tears that she didn't seem to hear Mrs. Hughes as she edged towards her.
"Now, now, what's going on here then?" Mrs. Hughes asked in a soft, sympathetic tone that still managed to startle the girl. The old woman gave a reassuring smile as the child wiped her running nose on the back of her hand.
"Don't worry little one, I'm not going to hurt you. My name's Mrs. Hughes. I'm the housekeeper."
The girl just stared blankly at the old woman.
"Come now, you don't want to be frightened of me. What's your name?"
Mrs. Hughes waited patiently until the youngster was ready to respond. Finally, the girl took a deep, unsteady breath.
"M... my name's Tamicka." She replied. "Tamicka M... Moon."
"Tamicka" repeated Mrs. Hughes as she pulled one of the chairs away from the table and indicated for the child to be seated. "That's a pretty name for a very pretty little girl if I might say so."
Tamicka's smile looked unsure as she wiped away a fresh flow of tears from her cheeks. "I know that's not true, but thanks anyway."
"What do you mean, it's not true?" Mrs. Hughes protested. "Are you telling me I don't know a pretty face when I see one?" The girl's smile became more genuine. "There, that's better. Now you sit yourself down, I'll put the kettle on and we'll both have a nice cup of tea. Would you like that?"
The girl smiled nodding her reply and sat down.
When the tea was ready Mrs. Hughes placed a cup in front of Tamicka then sat down on the bench at the opposite side of the table. The little girl clutched the toy dog tight to her and stared down into the brown liquid.
"Well, well. Now there's a little fellow I haven't seen in a while."
Tamicka looked up at Mrs. Hughes with a puzzled expression.
"I see you've found Mr. Huggles."
"Mr. Huggles?"
"That's the name of that fine fellow you're holding onto so tightly." Mrs. Hughes gazed at the girl as she sat the dog down next to her cup.
"I guess that name really suits you." Tamicka giggled. "Hello Mr. Huggles, my name's Tamicka and I'm very pleased to meet you"
"Well now, it looks like you two are going to get on very well." Mrs. Hughes laughed. "Now drink your tea sweetheart, while it's nice and hot."
Tamicka did as she was told and took a couple of quick sips. In that moment Mrs. Hughes had seen a completely different child in her from the one she had met only minutes earlier. The old woman could see there was a question somewhere inside that little head that needed to get out, but there was also a strong reluctance to ask it.
"If there's anything you want to ask me you just go right ahead. And you needn't worry, I don't bite." The old woman thought for a moment. "Well, not very often anyway, and then mostly if your name happens to be Mr. Hughes."
This brought another chuckle from the girl and she took another sip of courage from her cup. "Mrs. Hughes," she asked finally without raising her eyes to the woman's, "do you live in this house?"
"Why, no dear," the housekeeper answered. She took a swallow from her own cup before she continued. "I live all the way down in the town, but I come up every other day just to make sure that everything's shipshape."
"So does that mean that we won't see you tomorrow?"
Mrs. Hughes noticed the trace of concern that crept into Tamicka's voice. "Look, I know that it's scary moving to a strange place at first but I'm sure you'll soon get used to it. After a while this place just sort of grows on you." Mrs. Hughes could see that something still bothered the girl. She didn't push her; she just waited patiently until Tamicka was ready to talk.
"Mrs. Hughes, does someone else live in this house?" Tamicka's words were hushed and tight as if they didn't want to part from her lips.
"It's only you's two," the old woman replied, "Why do you ask?"
The girl opened her mouth but no answer emerged. The old woman drained the last of the tea from her cup then rose slowly to her feet feeling the familiar pain shoot through her hips, knees, and ankles. She winced at the ache but quickly regained her composure when she became aware of the anxiety in the little girl's expression.
"Mrs. Hughes, are you okay?"
"Oh, don't you go worrying that pretty head about things. It's just me being old, that's all." Mrs. Hughes gave Tamicka what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "You'd never guess I was a bit of a sporty one when I was your age, would you? Running, badminton, netball, you name it and I played it. Now the only exercise I get is walking up here, and it looks like even that's becoming a little too much."
"Here, let me help you with that," Tamicka said as she started to rise from the table with her own cup.
"Are you after my job or something?" The old woman smiled. "You sit yourself back down and I'll get you another cup of tea."
"But I want to help." The girl replied as she took the cup from Mrs. Hughes and made her way over to the sink.
"You are a good girl. Your parents must be very proud of you."
Tamicka froze in her tracks for a second but said nothing. Mrs. Hughes watched as the girl rinsed the cups under the tap and calmly placed them on the drainer before turning back to face her. She could see that the child was fighting a losing battle against the second wave of tears.
"Goodness dear, whatever's the matter?"
"M... my..." there was a long pause before Tamicka could continue. "Mommy died in a car accident last Christmas."
"Oh, you poor little thing, I'm so sorry to hear that."
As the old woman took a couple of painful steps towards the girl she noticed that Tamicka was looking in her direction but not at her. Mrs. Hughes heard footsteps coming from the dining room towards the kitchen door and she turned just in time to see the young man enter. He was in his mid-thirties she guessed, with the same blonde hair and blue eyes as Tamicka. He had a fixed, stern expression but she could clearly read the sadness in his eyes.
"Hello. I'm Mrs. Hughes, the housekeeper, and you must be Mr. Moon." She smiled and extended her right hand to him. The man took the few strides over to where she stood and shook it; the paper-thin trace of a smile on his lips contained no warmth. He glared in the direction of his daughter and Mrs. Hughes sensed that no other form of communication was necessary. Without a single word, the little girl ran out of the open door and into the garden.
"I'm sorry but I wasn't expecting you for ages." She added.
"Evidently not!" Mr. Moon replied coldly.
"I'm sorry, is there a problem?"
"May I ask exactly how long you have been working on the estate of Lord Munford?"
Mrs. Hughes didn't like the tone of his voice but she kept both her smile and her composure intact. "I've been the housekeeper here for the past twenty-odd years now, why do you ask?"
"Mrs. Hughes, I know that we are out in the countryside but is it customary to leave the front door wide open when you are not here?"
"I should say not. But I don't understand..."
"My daughter and I arrived about an hour ago and nobody was here to open up for us. Can you guess how we got in?"
The smile faded from Mrs. Hughes' face as she realised the insinuation made against her. "Well I can tell you one thing for sure Mr. Moon; you didn't get in through the front door. I know because I unlocked the deadbolt myself when I got here."
"But that's exactly how we did get in Mrs. Hughes, through the front door. How do you explain that?"
Anger poured through the old woman's veins. How dare this stranger make such accusations against her when she knew full well that the door had been locked tight on her arrival? "Are you calling me a liar young man?" she snapped.
"Of course not. I'm saying that you forgot to lock it and that you're now frightened to admit it." Mr. Moon's voice was even and unemotional.
"Well, I've never been so insulted in all my life." Mrs. Hughes shouted.
The man's tone softened. "Look, I guess we all make mistakes."
"That little girl has the manners of a saint. I think it's quite clear that she doesn't get them from your side of the family." Mrs. Hughes sulked as she turned on her heel and headed towards the back door.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to say goodbye to that poor child, then I'm off home." The housekeeper said without taking a backwards glance.
"Please wait; there really is no need for that."
Mrs. Hughes felt his hand touch her shoulder and she slowly turned to face him again.
"Look," he continued, "would it be okay if we just start over again?"
Mrs. Hughes looked him up and down for a moment with suspicious eyes. He looked genuine enough. Maybe she could give him another chance. "All right, you sit yourself down and I'll make us both a nice cup of tea." She said without a smile. He would have to earn his way into her good books from now on.
4
Tamicka watched the two grown-ups from the spot in the garden where she sat. The argument had frightened her. It had only lasted about a minute but it had sent tremors right through her. Even when they had calmed down and sat at the table drinking tea and talking in more subdued tones, she could still feel herself shaking all over. She sucked in a deep breath then slowly released it in an attempt to steady her nerves. They were probably talking about her. Right now he was probably telling the nice old lady about Tamicka's part in her mother's death. By the time he was through talking to Mrs. Hughes she would hate her too. Tamicka could feel the tears coming back and hugged herself, wishing that she hadn't left Mr. Huggles on the kitchen table.
The garden was vast; at least six times the size of the one at the front of the house. Tamicka noticed that it was better maintained too. The rose bushes, a flat, green, lawn and high hedgerows, which provided the garden's natural boarder, were all immaculate and all of the flowers were in full bloom. Even the house itself didn't look so unwelcoming from the back. There was no trace of the vine that almost totally obscured the front. It looked like a totally different building. A glint of light caught the corner of her eye and her attention was immediately fixed on the window her father had opened in that strange bedroom. A peculiar sensation swept over her as if she was being watched. Tamicka saw no one. She hated the house. She wanted to be as far away from it as possible, but she was trapped, she had nowhere else to go. At that moment Tamicka wished that her mother was with her.
Author's Note
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