The Locket of Dreams

by Belinda Murrell

  Sophie smiled to think of their big black dog and baby brother, Will, searching the house looking for them. She missed Sammy too, and the cats and Mum and Dad and Will, now that she thought about it, but there hadn’t been much room for thoughts of home lately.

  Sophie helped herself to a piece of toast, while Nonnie made her some tea. Tea was something they were rarely allowed to drink at home, but Nonnie always made them a milky cup with breakfast, served in a pretty china teacup and saucer.

  ‘Thanks, Nonnie,’ Sophie said, and smiled.

  The phone rang just then and Nonnie suggested that Sophie answer it, as it was probably her mother.

  ‘Hi, darling,’ came her mother’s cheery, familiar voice. ‘How are you? Are you feeling all right? Nonnie said you slept for hours this morning and that you’ve been very quiet the last few days.’

  ‘No, I’m fine, Mum,’ replied Sophie. ‘Just tired. It’s been a busy term at school.’

  ‘I know, but if you aren’t feeling well you can always come home. Are you worrying about changing schools?’

  ‘Mum, I said I’m fine,’ reiterated Sophie firmly. ‘I’m not worrying about school or anything else.’

  ‘Now, I hope you and Jess aren’t fighting, are you? Remember, you promised me?’

  Sophie paused, thinking guiltily of the whispered battle she and Jess had had over the washing-up last night.

  ‘No, Mum,’ responded Sophie. ‘We’re not fighting. Well, not really. How’s Dad? How’s Will?’

  ‘Will’s fine, up to his usual mischief,’ replied Sophie’s mum. ‘Your father’s a little better the last couple of days, I think. He took Will for a walk in the pram this morning, it’s such a gorgeous day.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Sophie replied. ‘I hope Dad is feeling better. How’s work?’

  Sophie’s mum chattered on about the latest news from home.

  ‘Mum, Nonnie showed us a beautiful old box which belonged to her great-grandmother Charlotte Mackenzie,’ Sophie offered.

  ‘Mmmm, I remember the one. There was some intriguing mystery about my great-great-grandmother. I’ve forgotten what it was all about – wicked uncles and stolen inheritances, I think. Now, darling, I’m sorry I have to go, but I’ve heaps of work to do.’

  ‘That’s okay, Mum,’ replied Sophie, disappointed that her mother had no light to shed on the box.

  ‘I’ll see you next week. I can’t wait. I’m really missing you both dreadfully; so are Daddy and Will. It’s far too quiet around here without you!’

  ‘Miss you too, Mum.’

  ‘I love you, darling. Don’t forget to call me and I’ll come and get you if you want to come home.’

  ‘No, it’s fine, Mum.’ Sophie paused and thought about Charlotte and Eliza, and that terrible night when Eliza had died with baby Alexander.

  ‘I love you too, Mum,’ Sophie finished, with a choke in her voice. ‘Look after yourself and baby Will.’

  Her mother sounded puzzled. ‘I’ll try, sweetie. Bye.’

  ‘Bye, Mum.’

  Sophie hung up and went back to the table. Her toast was cold and she found she had no appetite for it after all. She pushed it away and sipped on her tea, listening to Jess and Nonnie chat about the plans for the day: a long walk, a trip to the park and some shopping in the afternoon.

  ‘You didn’t eat your toast, Sophie,’ said Nonnie with concern. ‘Would you like a fresh piece?’

  ‘No thanks, Nonnie,’ replied Sophie hurriedly, clearing the table. ‘I’m not really hungry this morning.’

  Nonnie looked a bit worried but said nothing more.

  It was with a great feeling of trepidation that Sophie prepared for bed that night after dinner. She waited until Jessica was out of the room, then surreptitiously put the heavy gold locket around her neck, and climbed under the covers.

  She tried to read her book, but the words danced maddeningly in front of her eyes and her thoughts kept drifting to another time and place, a more exciting time and place: a land of rolling mist, steel-grey lochs and emerald hills. How did the girls come to leave Dungorm? Why were they sent to Australia?

  In a moment, Sophie could see them. A thick bank of mist rolled in from the sea, blanketing the loch and swirling around the old castle keep of Dungorm. Black-faced highland sheep dotted the deep-green hills. Grey smoke drifted from the golden chimneys of the great house of Dungorm. Sophie swooped towards the house, heading to the windows of the schoolroom on the upper floor.

  Sophie found Charlotte and Nell downstairs at the dining table. They were dressed in what looked like their Sunday best – white woollen mourning dresses with ruffled petticoats below, thick black stockings and buttoned-up boots – and their hair was tied neatly back with white velvet ribbons.

  Roddy wore a white-and-navy sailor suit, with a jaunty tie and wide square lapels to his collar. He was currently kicking Nell under the table trying to make her cry out. Nell ignored him. Aunt Arabella sat opposite, with Uncle Roderick at the head of the table carving the beef.

  A serving maid passed around a platter of potatoes while another served the buttered carrots and boiled cabbage. When the food was served and the servants had retired, Uncle Roderick said grace and everyone began to eat.

  Uncle Roderick chewed his mouthful of beef and gravy, swallowed and cleared his throat loudly.

  ‘Charlotte and Eleanor, I have some important news to share with you,’ Uncle Roderick announced, glancing quickly at his wife, who nodded sagely.

  ‘Some time ago, your aunt and I received a letter from a relative of your mother’s, a certain Mrs McLaughlin, who currently resides in the colony of New South Wales.’

  Sophie held her breath. This must be it: this was the Australian connection.

  Charlotte and Nell glanced at each other. Annie McLaughlin was Eliza’s cousin who had migrated to Australia fourteen years before with her husband. Eliza and Annie had been very close friends all their lives and had regularly written letters to each other after their separation.

  Eliza had often read them interesting snippets of Annie’s letters describing life in that faraway country of Australia. Charlotte wondered why Uncle Roderick was interested in Eliza’s cousin, Annie McLaughlin.

  ‘Mrs McLaughlin wrote to say that she had thought of your mother as a sister, so if there was anything she could do for you girls, we should let her know,’ Uncle Roderick continued chattily, however he did not meet the girls’ eyes.

  ‘Consequently, I wrote to her several months ago to see if she would consent to have you girls go and live with her and her family.’

  Sophie sighed. Charlotte breathed in sharply, hardly believing her ears. Uncle Roderick could not be serious.

  ‘We received a reply last week agreeing to the suggestion, and have written to Mrs McLaughlin telling her to expect you on the next ship to Australia,’ Uncle Roderick continued calmly, helping himself to another pile of potatoes.

  ‘Your berths are booked on a clipper called Commodore Perry which leaves Liverpool in two weeks. I have informed the servants to prepare your things for the journey, so I expect your full co-operation.’

  Uncle Roderick resumed eating his roast beef. Aunt Arabella smiled triumphantly at her husband, then at the girls. Roddy gave Charlotte a sharp kick under the table and grinned at her, poking out his tongue.

  Charlotte’s mind whirled, refusing to absorb this earth-shattering news. Nell sat silently, tears streaming down her face.

  ‘But – but Uncle,’ stuttered Charlotte. ‘We have never even met Mrs McLaughlin or her family. They live thousands of miles away, on the other side of the earth. We cannot possibly go and live with them.’

  Charlotte swallowed a huge lump in her throat, fighting the tears that threatened to spill, trying to keep her tone calm and reasonable. ‘Dungorm is our home. Dungorm was our parents’ home,’ she continued, her voice breaking. ‘Please do not send us away.’

  ‘Now, Charlotte, stop making such a fuss,’ Uncle Roderick huffed in annoya
nce. ‘It’s all decided, the tickets booked and paid for. The letter has been sent to Mrs McLaughlin letting her know when to expect you, and I have arranged for money to be sent for your upkeep. It cannot be changed now.’

  Aunt Arabella nodded vehemently. ‘It is impossible for you to stay here,’ she added. ‘My poor nerves cannot cope with so many children in the house. It is too much work and worry.’

  Charlotte thought in disbelief of the army of servants at Dungorm whose sole purpose in life was to make sure that Aunt Arabella never had to lift a finger, even to dress herself.

  ‘My poor cousin Miss Crowe barely lasted a week and had to leave, her nerves completely shot,’ Aunt Arabella continued forcefully. ‘Apparently you girls frightened her with some nonsense about ghosts in the house.’

  Sophie caused the candles in the centre of the table to sputter.

  Charlotte and Nell glanced at the candles, then at each other, remembering the horrible Miss Crowe packing her bags in hysterics and demanding to be conveyed at once to the nearest railway station.

  ‘Besides, your uncle and I find this country life far too quiet, so we plan to move back to Edinburgh, and our house there is too small for extra children.’

  ‘We could stay here,’ Charlotte began eagerly. ‘Nanny and Cook could look after us. We would be fine.’

  Nell nodded hopefully, her eyes round and wide. Uncle Roderick scowled and thumped the table with his flattened palm, making the crystal glasses chink.

  ‘That is enough, Charlotte,’ he roared. ‘It’s far too expensive to keep staff on in an unused house. Of course we will let most of the staff go, and just bring in servants when we return for the autumn hunting season.

  ‘Now, if you have finished your meal,’ he continued, forcing himself to be calm, ‘you may go and start planning what to take. Your trunks must be packed ready to go by the end of this week.’

  Charlotte stood up, her fists clenched. Nell rose slowly to her feet.

  ‘You cannot do this,’ shouted Charlotte, staring at her aunt and uncle in disbelief. She wanted to shake Uncle Roderick, shake him until he changed his mind. ‘We are not going. Dungorm is our home. Just because you burnt my father’s will does not mean you can turn us out. You cannot send us away.’

  ‘Charlotte, enough,’ roared Uncle Roderick. ‘What nonsense. How dare you suggest I burnt your father’s will. There was no will, but that makes no difference. I am the laird of Dungorm now. You are just children. I am your legal guardian and I decide what is best for you both. Now, go to your room before I call Wilson to drag you.’

  Without a word, Charlotte stormed from the room and up the stairs, Nell running behind her. Through the open door of their bedroom, they heard a familiar voice raised in indignation.

  It was Sally the chambermaid.

  ‘It is criminal, that’s wha’ it is,’ Sally objected. ‘Those wee precious bairns bein’ sent to the other side o’ the world to that horrible place in New South Wales, just so he can take their home and fortune.’

  ‘My puir darling lassies,’ agreed Nanny with a sob. ‘He is a hard man. Who could e’er believe he was the brother of our own puir Laird Mackenzie, God bless his soul. Lady Mackenzie would be furious.’

  ‘They say those immigrant ships are disease-ridden coffin ships,’ Sally added with relish. ‘On one ship last year, there was a measles epidemic and dozens o’ children died. Four years ago, one ship went down in a storm less than twenty-four hours after leaving Liverpool and everyone on board, three hundred and eighty souls, lost their lives.’

  Nanny sobbed again loudly, burying her face in her apron.

  ‘They say there are murderous highwaymen in Australia that kill honest folk just minding their own business, bloodthirsty natives and all manner o’ strange beasts and monsters,’ Sally continued. ‘’Tis a death sentence he is giving those bairns, as certain as anything.’

  Nell gave a frightened sob, pushing her fist into her mouth to muffle it.

  ‘Quiet, Sally,’ Nanny ordered hurriedly. ‘’Tis the young lassies coming up. Ye canna mention any o’ your fanciful tales to Miss Charlotte and Miss Nell. If we lose our jobs at Dungorm, as Wilson fears, we may well be following the bairns out to the colonies looking for work.’

  Charlotte took a deep breath, then pushed the door open and walked in. Nanny was sitting on the bed, overcome with emotion, while Sally bent over two large trunks in the middle of the floor.

  ‘Good evening, Nanny. Good evening, Sally,’ Charlotte said. ‘I see you have heard that my uncle is sending us to Australia.’

  Nanny burst into a fresh fit of crying, wiping her eyes on her apron. ‘My puir wee bairns. My puir wee bairns,’ she sobbed repeatedly.

  Charlotte and Nell ran to Nanny and were enveloped in a big, warm, wet hug.

  ‘I wish I could come with ye to keep ye safe.’

  Sally and Sophie hovered nearby, helpless to comfort them. The three cried together for many long minutes, until Charlotte finally pulled herself together.

  ‘It will be all right,’ Charlotte announced shakily. ‘Someone must be able to convince my uncle to let us stay. I will speak to the minister tomorrow. We cannot be cast out of our own home so easily.’

  ‘Do you think the minister could convince our uncle?’ asked Nell, hopefully. ‘Someone must be able to make him change his mind.’

  Sophie knew that nothing would change Roderick’s mind so easily, but she had to admire Charlotte for fighting.

  ‘’Tis a brave lassie ye are, Miss Charlotte,’ Nanny said approvingly, drying her eyes. ‘You are so like your father sometimes.’

  Nanny helped the girls change into their nightdresses and nightcaps, while Sally went downstairs to fetch a special treat from Cook: two foaming mugs of hot milky chocolate and a plate of her famous crumbly shortbread.

  The girls were too exhausted to eat but sipped appreciatively at the hot chocolate, which somehow made them feel a little better. They soon fell into a troubled sleep, filled with troubled dreams.

  Charlotte tried. She surreptitiously rode her pony to the village the next morning and explained everything to the minister of the village kirk. He looked grave and nodded frequently, absorbing the details of the story. She told him about the papers she saw Roderick burning in her father’s study, and how Arabella had taken all her mother’s jewels.

  Later that morning, the minister called at Dungorm House and spent an hour closeted in the study with Uncle Roderick. Sophie knew it was useless – nothing would make Uncle Roderick change his mind. The minister finally left, looking graver than when he arrived. Uncle Roderick waited until the front door had been closed behind his unexpected guest, then turned to face the stairs.

  ‘Charlotte Eliza Mackenzie, come down here now,’ Uncle Roderick roared.

  Charlotte and Nell had been waiting desperately in the schoolroom and dashed down the stairs to hear the result of the meeting.

  ‘How dare you discuss our family business with anyone outside this house! You are going to Australia and that is final. Now, go to your room and start sorting your belongings. I do not want to hear another word about it.’

  The study door slammed loudly and Charlotte, Nell and Sophie crept back up to their room.

  As if to taunt them, the weather that week was glorious. It was now June, and early summer. The hills were swathed with wildflowers and the sun shone warmly. It was perfect weather for riding on the hills, sailing to the island or walking around the shaly beaches of the loch. Yet the girls had no time for this.

  ‘Nell, I simply have to get out,’ cried Charlotte, striding up and down, looking out the window at the dazzling day. ‘I feel as if I am going mad. I simply must ride over the hills of Dungorm one last time.’

  Sophie knew exactly how she felt.

  ‘Uncle Roderick will not let us,’ replied Nell flatly.

  ‘Uncle Roderick will not let us do anything, ever,’ agreed Charlotte, turning to look at Nell. ‘We might get mud on our dresses and disgrac
e the Mackenzie name. I have a plan.’

  Nell looked up from sorting through her old dolls.

  ‘What plan?’

  ‘Tonight is a full moon,’ explained Charlotte, her face alight. ‘We could climb down the oak tree and go riding. We could have a moonlight canter on the moors. It will be our only chance.’

  ‘If Uncle Roderick finds out, we will get in the most dreadful trouble,’ Nell said, and frowned.

  ‘What will he do to us? Send us to Australia? He cannot do anything worse to us!’ argued Charlotte. ‘Please, Nell. If you will not come with me, I shall go anyway.’

  ‘You cannot go by yourself,’ replied Nell. ‘What if you fall? Oh, all right then. I will come too.’

  That evening, Nell fell asleep in her bed, but Charlotte sat on the floor by the fire reading a book with a candle. Sophie read over her shoulder.

  When the grandfather clock in the schoolroom struck half past ten, Charlotte gently woke Nell.

  Silently the pair dressed themselves, climbed down the oak tree, then slipped from shadow to shadow through the garden. Sophie floated ahead of them, carefully watching out for anyone about. There was no-one.

  Lights were still on in the drawing room, where they could see Uncle Roderick and Aunt Arabella sitting by the fire.

  At the kennels they freed Flossie, then they bridled their ponies, Rosie and Bess, in the stables. The horses were glad to see them, despite the lateness of the hour, and whinnied a snuffly welcome. The girls did not bother with saddles as they did not want the creak of leather or the clank of a stirrup to give them away.

  They led the horses outside, mounted and, keeping to the shadows on this moonlit night, headed out the archway and into the night. Sophie soared along beside them, enjoying flying in the silvery moonlight.

  Despite all their care, it was impossible to fetch the horses, tack up and ride off without making some slight noise.

  Half a mile from the house, they heard a clatter of horse’s hooves behind them. Sophie swung around ready to protect the girls from any danger. Charlotte and Nell stiffened in fear.