The Valley of Lost Stories

by Vanessa McCausland

  ‘What if we jump and fall off the sides?’ Findlay had asked.

  ‘Ah, well, you fall off the sides,’ Alexandra had replied. ‘You sprain your ankle or get a big bruise and you quickly learn how not to fall off.’

  Jasper, the younger and more cautious of her two, blanched. ‘But we don’t know how. We like to bounce against the net on the sides.’

  ‘Well, honey, you can’t do that here, can you?’

  The kids had looked back at her with wide eyes. She rolled hers.

  ‘You’ll be fine. You just have to be a bit more careful than usual. No more than two people on the trampoline at a time, okay?’

  Thomas, being physically the biggest of all the children, was the first to try out this strange new and dangerous breed of jumping device. Of course, of all the kids, Jasper had been the one to jump too close to the edge. His high cry had snapped her neck up from the magazine she’d been flicking through.

  ‘My leg,’ he cried, his little face scrunched in agony. Alexandra had picked him up and checked the leg that had slipped into the gap between the springs. She gave it a quick rub. He winced and pulled it away.

  ‘It’s fine. You just got a shock. This used to happen to us all the time.’

  Jasper wailed.

  ‘Come on, you’re overreacting, mate. Dust yourself off and get back on the horse.’

  ‘It hurts.’ He flung his arms around her neck.

  She extricated herself and held him firmly by the shoulders. ‘Come on. You’re a big boy now. Stop crying.’

  His wails reached a new intensity. ‘Your leg is fine, Jasper,’ she snapped.

  He went quiet suddenly. She looked into his eyes, watery with tears and hurt, and felt a rub of doubt. Guilt. God, was she doing what Maxwell did to him? Squashing his emotions down? Telling him to harden up? Her throat ached with repressed emotion and she softened, pulling him into a hug and rubbing his back until he calmed down. You’re a bully. The thought came at her unbidden and she bit back the tears that threatened.

  God, what the hell was wrong with her? Snapping at her kids. Crying. At least she wasn’t the only one acting off-kilter. Nathalie seemed distracted and distant, Pen seemed on edge, while only Emmie and Macie seemed to be on an even keel. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to come away with acquaintances on a whim, on the draw of a ticket. Or maybe if they’d been in the luxury home at the ocean, things would have been simpler. Still, she thought about what she’d be doing right now at home. Probably half-heartedly making dinner while aimlessly scrolling social media, for what, she didn’t know, and trying to get Maxwell to tell her if he’d be home to eat. It felt good to be away from her life. Even if this place seemed to be bringing up all sorts of feelings.

  She took a last sip of her cold tea. She needed a wine. Emmie and Pen had gone for a walk over the bridge, and Nathalie was taking a nap. She wasn’t sure where Macie was.

  Now Seraphine was acting as the trampoline gatekeeper, making sure no one broke the two-at-a-time rule. She was a mini Emmie. The kids would be fine for a moment.

  ‘Seraphine, you’re doing a great job making sure it’s two at a time. I’ll be back in a minute,’ she called. Seraphine waved. Emmie had really lucked out there. She was a great kid.

  Alexandra padded through the dark entrance hall, the tiles cool on her bare feet. This place was pretty amazing. She stopped to admire a beautiful lamp, the base shaped into the body of a writhing mermaid. There was a bookcase filled with old tomes, the gold lettering on the spines shining in the dim lamplight. A framed photograph taken outside the hotel long ago. Faces from the past stared down at her from their sepia tomb. Being in the empty hall alone made her think of when she was a child, in her dark bedroom at night. She fought the urge to look behind her, to stare into the dark corners. She pushed the glass swinging door into the dining room and headed into the industrial kitchen in search of the fridge. Caleb and Nathalie were at one of the long metal benches. He was chopping vegetables and she was sitting on the bench cradling a glass of wine.

  ‘Oh, hi,’ Alexandra said.

  Nathalie startled. ‘Hi.’

  ‘I see you’ve beaten me to the wine.’ No surprises there.

  Nathalie held up a bottle of rosé. ‘Here, I’ll get you a glass.’ She went to a cupboard and took one out. ‘I just came down here to try to find some Panadol, and Caleb ended up finding me wine as well. Apparently, the combination works.’

  I’m sure he did, thought Alexandra, taking the glass of wine from Nathalie and clinking cheers. Her friend could be so naïve sometimes.

  ‘Caleb was saying there’s a big storm forecast.’

  ‘I was just watching the clouds come across,’ Alexandra said.

  ‘We get some pretty spectacular storms after really hot weather. The thunder echoes off the valley walls. It’s pretty intense,’ said Caleb, looking up from his vegetable chopping.

  ‘Oh, and we know how much the kids love storms,’ Alexandra said. ‘Last night it was ghosts, tonight it’s going to be thunder and they’re already freaked out about a trampoline without a safety net. I’m going to need this to get through tonight.’ She topped up her glass. ‘I guess it’s probably good for them to be exposed to all this drama. They’re so used to having everything so vanilla in their suburban lives. So, are you a city boy or did you grow up in the country, Caleb?’

  Caleb stopped chopping the carrots for a moment and then continued. ‘I, ah, yeah, I’ve never lived in a big city.’

  ‘You grow up near here?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He slid the carrots into a pot.

  Alexandra stopped herself from prying further. It was like pulling teeth trying to make conversation with this guy. He really needed to get out more. She changed tack. ‘What are you cooking?’

  ‘It’s a lamb and vegetable stew. I’m keeping the food pretty simple for the kids.’

  ‘But he’s made the stock from scratch and there’s also homemade choc-mint ice cream for the kids’ dessert, and roast duck and a pear and almond flan for us,’ Nathalie said.

  ‘Wow. I had no idea we were going to have a gourmet chef on site.’

  ‘Well, there has to be some kind of incentive to come all the way out here,’ said Caleb. ‘We kind of market it like a bit of a foodie tour. There are some wineries just outside the valley and a dairy farmer and cheesemaker where we source a lot of our cheese and milk. People like to visit those things.’

  ‘Are you a self-taught cook Caleb, or did you study it?’

  ‘He’s self-taught,’ said Nathalie, who was obviously better at getting information out of Caleb.

  Caleb shrugged. ‘Well, Macie’s a pretty good cook. She taught me all the basics and I improvised and found good recipes. Kind of took me under her wing,’ he said.

  Alexandra was about to ask how long he’d been working here when she heard the high sound of the kids’ voices float through the house. She pushed open the door to the dining room and found them all standing there, their little faces flushed.

  ‘We can’t find Sim, we were playing hide-and-seek and . . .’ Seraphine burst into tears. Alexandra crouched down and hugged her.

  ‘It’s okay. Slow down. Tell me what happened. Thomas, Jasper?’

  Thomas looked sulky. ‘We were playing hide-and-seek, and we thought she was under the trampoline or in our cubbyhouse place in the bushes, but we can’t find her.’

  ‘And it’s raining, Mummy. She’ll be all wet,’ said Jasper, his little face stricken. She hugged him too.

  ‘Sim’s missing,’ said Will, as Nathalie came into the dining room behind her.

  Findlay ran to her mother and buried her face in her dress. ‘What happened, sweetheart?’ Nathalie crouched beside her daughter.

  ‘We were just playing hide-and-seek,’ said Findlay, her voice muffled in Nathalie’s neck. ‘What if the ghost got her, Mummy?’

  The mothers exchanged a look. ‘It’s okay, I’m sure she’s not far. Let’s go and look for her,’ Nathalie suggeste
d. ‘She’s probably somewhere really obvious and she’s so stubborn that she doesn’t even care that it’s raining. She just wants to win.’

  ‘Yeah, that does sound like her,’ said Findlay, brightening.

  They all went through the foyer and out onto the hotel porch to find fat droplets of rain falling and heavy, dark clouds above. Alexandra felt a twinge of anxiety as the rain intensified and a crack of distant lightning lanced the warm air.

  ‘I’ll get Caleb to come out here with the kids while we look,’ said Alexandra. ‘Pen and Emmie must be getting soaked on their walk.’

  She could see Nathalie was anxious too as they set off into the downpour, calling Sim’s name.

  ‘Where were they last?’ Nathalie asked, her hair already plastered to her head.

  ‘They were over at the trampoline. I only left them for ten minutes,’ said Alexandra, feeling both guilty and defensive at once.

  ‘I’ll check there and over by the horse. She loves that horse. Maybe you go closer to the hotel.’

  An earthy smell rose from the ground as the rain released its heat. Alexandra moved through the gardens surrounding the house. Her top was stuck to her body, but she wasn’t cold. She looked behind statues and urns, sure she was going to find Sim hiding there. Pen and Emmie joined the search, wet through after their walk. They scanned the fence line of the property, and the exterior of the hotel.

  They were forced onto the hotel’s porch when lightning lit the sky and thunder growled along the valley walls. Black clouds were closing in around them, bruising the afternoon light. By now, Alexandra was cold, Nathalie looked pale and Seraphine was crying again.

  Emmie comforted her. ‘It’s okay, chook. We’re going to have a look inside now.’

  ‘Where’s Macie?’ Alexandra asked, her breath tight in her chest. ‘She might have some ideas. It’s getting pretty dark.’

  ‘She went to pick up some more wine and supplies in the nearest town,’ Caleb said. ‘Would have thought she’d be back by now, but it gets pretty muddy in a downpour like this because the road’s unsealed. Hope she’s not bogged.’

  ‘Okay, I’m going to stay with the kids because Sera’s so upset. Maybe we’ll all play Uno in the lounge room,’ Emmie said. ‘Light a fire. That sounds nice, doesn’t it? Caleb do we have any marshmallows we could toast?’

  She shepherded the kids into the lounge room, which was dark and cold. Alexandra wished suddenly they were anywhere but here in this bleak old house, with a storm upon them.

  ‘The rooms aren’t locked, so you can just go in. Check the bathrooms too,’ Caleb said, heading to the kitchen to find snacks.

  They split up, Pen and Alexandra taking the top level. They searched the long halls, walls lined with framed artworks. It felt strange opening each door, as though she were somehow intruding upon imaginary guests. Each room had a similar layout and had been decorated just like theirs, with lovely vintage furniture. A gorgeous timber dresser here, a mirrored vanity table there. And everywhere Macie’s unique touches – a beaded scarf draped over a chair, a little vase full of dried flowers. Alexandra wondered if anyone actually used these rooms and why you’d bother to decorate them all given so few people visited. Perhaps there were times the hotel was completely full. She just couldn’t imagine it. There was an abandoned air to all these beautiful empty rooms, ready for guests who would never come.

  CHAPTER 25

  Nathalie

  Bright ribbons of light illuminated the dark hallway as lightning cracked outside. Nathalie’s breath caught in her throat with each new strike and her head pounded. She was trembling. Her wet clothes stuck to her body, but she didn’t feel cold, she felt numb. Her poor baby would be terrified. Sim’s tear-stained face at the breakfast table returned to her – she’d been genuinely scared of this place, and now this. Eyes from paintings on the walls stared down at her as she looked behind furniture and called Sim’s name. The only reply was the lashing rain on the windowpanes. Nathalie’s heart squeezed and she wrapped her arms around herself, willing herself to stay calm.

  She checked each door off the hallway. Some held bedrooms, much like her own, but these rooms were darker, colder than the upstairs bedrooms. The smell of mould mingled with a sharper scent of furniture polish. She came to the end of the hall and noticed a slice of light. The door on the left was ajar. She pushed it open. Inside was an office, lit by a small ornate lamp on a heavy oak desk that took up much of the room.

  ‘Hello?’ she called.

  The wall behind the desk was covered with photographs. She moved closer in the dimness. They were all of a boy, a toddler. He was sitting in a little sailor’s suit in the sunshine. On the front porch of the hotel, in the sand at the beach.

  She started at a movement under the desk and bent down, her blood rushing in her ears. Relief crashed through her as she crawled under the desk and pulled Sim into her arms. She was wet and her hair was stuck to her face. Nathalie couldn’t tell if it was wet with tears or rain.

  ‘Oh, my baby,’ she said, wrapping Sim in her arms. ‘What are you doing under here? Mummy was so worried.’

  Sim’s bony little body was icy. ‘I was hiding. We were playing.’

  ‘But the others were all hiding outside.’

  ‘There was thunder and I was scared so I came inside and went all the way to the end of the hall so no one would find me. And the thunder couldn’t find me.’

  Nathalie laughed, wiping tears of relief from her cheeks. ‘Well, no one did find you.’

  ‘Did I win?’

  ‘Yep, you definitely won.’ Nathalie kissed her hair.

  ‘Mummy, why are there so many pictures of that boy?’ she asked as they crawled out from under the desk.

  ‘I don’t know, honey. Sometimes parents like to put up pictures of our kids. Like I have one of all our family on my desk at home.’

  ‘But there are lots,’ Sim said. She was shaking with cold now.

  ‘Yes, there are a lot. Someone must love him very much,’ Nathalie said, taking in the photos. Were they of Macie’s son? She’d said that her ex had custody of him. But this looked more like a shrine. Maybe she didn’t get to see him anymore. Compassion moved through her. She’d felt unnerved by Macie’s strange behaviour at the river this afternoon, pretending that she hadn’t put her to bed and Nathalie hadn’t spilled her darkest secrets, but maybe Macie had secrets of her own.

  Caleb appeared at the door. ‘Oh, you’re in here,’ he said, shock colouring his voice.

  ‘I found her,’ Nathalie said. ‘Under the desk.’

  Caleb came and squatted beside them. He smelled like damp earth and smouldering wood. ‘You gave us all quite a scare,’ he said, smiling at Sim. ‘How did you even get in here?’

  ‘I could see light shining and I wanted to hide from the scary thunder,’ said Sim, pointing to the door.

  ‘That’s strange. This door is usually locked. It’s Macie’s office. Not even I have a key.’

  ‘Who’s the little boy?’ Nathalie asked, indicating to the photos.

  ‘Can you please not mention this room to the others. Macie is very private about it. I’m not supposed to let guests in here. It’s supposed to be locked.’

  ‘Is that her son?’

  ‘Please don’t tell the others.’

  Nathalie scanned Caleb’s face. His dark eyes were worried. ‘It’s okay, I won’t tell them. Sim, we won’t tell anyone about the room with the photos of the little boy, okay? I think it will make Macie sad. You understand? And we don’t want to make someone sad.’

  Sim nodded. ‘This is a sad room,’ she said, sticking her bottom lip out.

  Nathalie’s skin tingled at her daughter’s words. Nathalie’s eyes met Caleb’s and she reached out and placed her hand over his. It was surprisingly warm. ‘Caleb, is everything okay?’

  He looked back at the door. ‘We should get out of here.’ He paused before removing his hand from hers. He stood and helped her up. ‘Can I show you something later?’


  Nathalie nodded. ‘Of course.’ She trusted Caleb. She sensed he needed something from her, but she had no idea what. He was a man of few words, but she liked that about him. She felt a connection there that she hadn’t yet been able to properly articulate. But she knew now that she hadn’t been imagining it.

  She scooped Sim up and they left the room, closing the door behind them. A feeling of unease settled over her, as fine and invisible as dust. It was the same feeling she’d had driving into this valley, the same feeling she’d had at the ruins and in the river. It wasn’t going away the longer they were here – it was getting stronger.

  Jean

  1948

  She stood on the balcony overlooking the choppy blue water of Sydney Harbour. Her lungs and hair were full of the salty air and when she licked her lips, she could taste it. How had she survived so long without this feeling? Feeling free. Feeling alive. She watched the slow movement of the ferry as it crossed the heaving water. The gulls wheeled above a small fishing boat, the smell of fish on the breeze. And across the bay the city basked in the warm glow of early evening sunshine.

  The housekeeper had directed them to their rooms in the guest wing of the magnificent home, explaining that Mr and Mrs Parker would see them for dinner in the dining hall shortly. Jean was glad of the brief repose to gather herself. Her heart was racing as she threw open the balcony doors to take in the air. Now she could feel the ocean calming her, steadying her.

  She stepped over the landing and admired her room. She had never stayed in such a luxurious abode. Even at the height of her dancing, she had never experienced this level of opulence. The timber of her four-poster bed gleamed as though newly polished and the sheets were crisp and thick under her fingers. The lush pile was soft beneath her bare feet. From where she sat on the edge of the bed, she could still see the water. There was a knock on the door and Jean froze. She hoped it would not be Magnus. His presence electrified her, but she needed a break from the intensity, from the nerves. She opened the door to find a maid carrying a tray with a full silver tea service. The woman arranged the afternoon tea on a small table just inside the balcony doors.