“I do,” Elizabeth panted as she strained to make it up the four wide steps of the stone verandah that wrapped around the left side of the house. “It’s been my home since 1940, but that still hasn’t been enough time to — never mind,” she finished, suddenly tight-lipped.
The grand red-brick house was three storeys tall, including the attic space. White paint was beginning to flake on the balcony over the verandah and on the gingerbread trim decorating the gables, but overall, the house appeared to be in fairly good shape. The upper panes of the windows still held the original stained glass. A brass lion knocker adorned the heavy oak front door.
Elizabeth opened her purse and pushed aside the bulky envelope with the wad of hundred-dollar notes. “Here we are,” she said, pulling out her keys. No sooner had she unlocked the door than a yellow-brown cat appeared in the hall to greet her with a low meow and nudged at Elizabeth’s ankles with affection. “Hello, Ginger. How’s my pet? She’s the first loyal cat I’ve ever owned,” Elizabeth confided.
“Do you think you’ll be all right?” Garnet asked, noticing how flushed the woman’s face had become again just from the walk home.
“I’ll be fine. There’s nothing to worry about. Now that I’m home, I’ll put my feet up and have a rest. I’ll be as good as new.”
Garnet wasn’t so convinced and found herself saying, “Why don’t I leave you my number? You can call me if you don’t feel well. Do you have any paper?” She could hardly believe her own ears. What in the world was wrong with her? She hadn’t made any friends in five weeks at school and here she was, offering her phone number to an old lady she had only just met. Had she become that desperate for a friend?
“I do. Just a moment,” Elizabeth said. She rummaged through her purse, pulling up several dogeared receipts. The bulky envelope, which had pushed itself up, unexpectedly jumped out and fell at Garnet’s feet. She bent down and handed it back to Elizabeth.
“Oh, thank you, dear,” Elizabeth said, frowning at it before she shoved it back into her purse.
The question was on the tip of Garnet’s tongue: why was Elizabeth carrying around so much cash? She was dying to ask her, but she supposed it was really none of her business.
Elizabeth handed her a pen and one of the old receipts. Garnet quickly scribbled her name and phone number before handing them back to her.
“Now, if you’re not feeling good, call me. I’ll drop by sometime tomorrow and see how you’re doing,” Garnet said.
Elizabeth’s face brightened. “Well, I’d enjoy that very much. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Thank you for taking care of me and seeing that I arrived home safely. Not many people nowadays would take the time.”
Garnet said goodbye and headed home. She was still worried about Elizabeth.
A ray of morning sunshine streamed between the slats and into Garnet’s eyes. “Stupid blinds,” she muttered. They had ruined a perfectly good Saturday morning sleep-in. She turned her head and squinted at the clock on her night stand. Nine o’clock. She yawned and stretched before she rolled out of bed.
Downstairs, her mother was already up, sitting in her bathrobe, pecking away at the computer on the desk in the dining room. An empty space occupied the middle of the room where a table should have been.
“Good morning, Garnet,” her mother said. Her eyes, the same shade of violet as Garnet’s, looked over the top of the dark-framed glasses that she wore for reading and working on the computer. Her hair, unlike Garnet’s, was straight and cut short. It used to be brown before she started dying it auburn to cover the grey.
“Morning, Mom.” Garnet sat down in the chair beside her and looked at the screen. “Still searching for that skeleton in your closet?”
“Oh, Garnet! Why do you say it that way?” Garnet’s mother had recently discovered that her father, whom she had never known and thought to be dead, could still be alive. Using his name, she had begun an Internet search to seek any information she might find about him.
Garnet giggled. “You know I’m just kidding.”
Her mother clucked her tongue and rose from the chair. “Do you want to use the computer while I go make some breakfast?”
“Sure.”
“What would you like?”
“French toast.”
“Okay.”
Garnet took her mother’s seat and clicked on her email. She hoped there would be one today and silently cheered when she saw there was. It was from Amy, her best friend. They had been sending emails every day since Garnet had moved. Well, almost every day. It was more like every two to three days now. In fact, Garnet calculated, it had actually been a week since she had last received one. She had sent Amy two in the meantime. She wondered what kept Amy so busy that she didn’t reply sooner. The emails were her only link left to any friendships at all. Especially since she had not yet made any new friends at school.
Garnet noted the time this last email had been sent. Last night at midnight. When Garnet had already been in bed for two hours.
Hey, Garnet!
What’s up? How’s life out in Kitchener? Any better? Things are awesome here! I can’t wait til this weekend. Jody’s sleeping over tonight and tomorrow night we’re hitting one of the coolest parties! Kurt Henderson’s!! Ahh! I’m so psyched! Parent-free and the coolest people will be there!!! I wish you were here. We’d have so much fun! Party time! Hehe. The only thing is, my parents would totally freak if they found out, so they think I’m sleeping over at Jody’s. It’s going to be such funness!! Anyways, talk to you later.
Lotsa luv
A.
Garnet sat back in the chair, slightly dazed. Kurt Henderson! He was the most popular guy at their high school and was known for partying. Not that Garnet or Amy had ever gone to any of the parties he’d been at — they had only heard about them. Their mothers would never have allowed them to go.
And Jody! Jody was in Grade 11, a year ahead of Garnet and Amy. She lived down the street from where Garnet used to live but they had never been friends. She was one of those girls that Garnet hated, yet secretly envied. She always hung around with the “in crowd” and always seemed to be where the action was. But the worst part about Jody was that she had one of those goddess bodies that most mortals are not born with. She was tall with straight, long, black hair and a body with curves in all the right places. Kind of witchy, Garnet thought. And when she walked down the hall at school, she swung her hips a little and the guys noticed, often calling over to her and making flirtatious comments. Then she would just toss her head and give them a wide smile with her perfect teeth. Garnet had never liked Jody and now it looked like she was Amy’s new friend.
Garnet bit her lip. If only she could move back to Owen Sound. Back to her old house. She had lived next door to Amy for three years. Garnet felt the black digital watch on her wrist and recalled the day her friend had given it to her, shortly after she and her mother had moved from Toronto. She had been in Grade 7, and every day Amy would come to call on her to walk to school together. Garnet’s mother would have already left for work and Garnet would always be scrambling, still getting dressed. Finally, one day, Amy took off her watch and handed it to Garnet, saying, “Here, take this. You need it more than I do.” It was not an expensive watch and it skipped ahead a minute or two every week or so, so that Garnet had to remember how much ahead of time it was running or else readjust it. But she wore it, anyway. It reminded her of Amy.
And now she was stuck here where she had no friends and nowhere to go tonight. If only her mother hadn’t taken this transfer. Her only hope now was that the promotion her mother was expecting would fall through. Maybe then there’d be the chance they could return to Owen Sound and she could have her old life back.
“Breakfast is ready!” her mother called. Garnet punched the desk with her fist and went to the kitchen.
After breakfast, Garnet went upstairs and pulled on a pair of blue shorts and a white T-shirt. As she tied back her red curls, she glared at he
rself in the mirror. Nose too freckled. Lower lip too fat. Then she set off on her bike.
A white Sunbird was parked in Elizabeth’s driveway when Garnet arrived. She set her bike at the side of the house and climbed the stairs to the verandah. The faint strains of someone playing the piano filtered through the closed door. Garnet tapped the brass lion-head knocker and waited. A few moments passed before the door swung open, and she was startled to be greeted by a strange little woman with dark, questioning eyes. Her short brown hair, flecked with grey, began in the middle of her forehead and was combed back away from her face so that she reminded Garnet of a chimpanzee.
“Yes?” the woman inquired in a low tone.
“Oh! I was looking for Elizabeth.” Garnet frowned. “Is she here?”
“Who are you?” the woman asked, her eyes boring into Garnet’s.
Garnet suddenly became aware that the piano music had stopped.
“I’m Garnet Walcott. I helped Elizabeth yesterday when she fell. I just dropped by to see how she was.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth as though she were about to say something, when Elizabeth appeared at the door. She smiled when she saw Garnet and Garnet could see that she looked rested and more energetic than she had the previous day. “Hello, Garnet. So nice to see you again. Do come in,” Elizabeth invited, motioning with her hand.
The strange woman moved aside and Garnet stepped into the green-and-white-tiled entrance, where an antique oriental vase, decorated with colourful flowers and birds, rested on a small table and a grandfather clock stood in the corner, its pendulum swinging back and forth, announcing the half-hour with a gong.
“Gerdie, this is Garnet. I met her yesterday when I went out for a stroll. Garnet, this is Gerdie, my housekeeper.”
“Hello,” Garnet said, smiling weakly.
“Hello,” Gerdie grunted, making no attempt to return the smile. “Well, I’ve got work to do,” she muttered. She turned and shuffled away, climbing the floral-carved spiral staircase. One more unfriendly face in this city.
“Come, let’s go into the living room.” Elizabeth guided Garnet to the left, through the French doors. “You’ll have to excuse Gerdie,” she said, lowering her voice. “She’s very shy and often doesn’t trust strangers. When she’s here, she hardly says a word, just does her work. Though I have to say, she has come out of her shell in the past few months. Ever since Stan Hunt swept her off her feet.”
“Has she been your housekeeper for long?” Garnet asked, finding herself a little curious about the woman.
“Oh, only for about the past year. Ever since I started to get my dizzy spells,” Elizabeth replied. “I’ve known her for years, though, from church. And really, she’s more than a housekeeper. I don’t know what I’d do without her, especially now that I can’t drive anymore. She comes about three times a week to help me out. She even takes me to the doctor and counts out my pills and sets them out for me so I don’t forget to take them.”
Garnet looked around the room. A grand piano took up the entire front corner and plants set in the alcove of the bay window absorbed the last of the sun’s morning rays. Beyond the oriental rugs the hardwood floor gleamed, and the high, ornate ceiling, framed by plaster mouldings, held a chandelier with eight yellowed fabric shades in the centre of it. Several paintings, depicting rural landscapes, and signed by Homer Watson, hung on the walls, and on either side of the wooden mantel stood a pair of side chairs, their golden fabric worn through years of use, and resembling the one Elizabeth had commented on the day before.
But what struck Garnet most about the room was that, if it hadn’t been for a few modern conveniences such as the television, it was like taking a step back in time. Their home in Owen Sound had also been a century home but it hadn’t been like this. It had undergone too many renovations over the years.
“I love your house, Elizabeth. It feels ...” Like I belong here, Garnet wanted to say. The thought came out of nowhere and she didn’t know why it had even entered her mind. Somehow, being surrounded by these items from the past offered her solace, like a loyal friend she could count on. But that was so ridiculous. “It ... it just feels so comfortable,” she finished, grabbing at the first word she could think of.
“Ah, that it is,” Elizabeth agreed. “But unfortunately, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stay. Gerdie has been helping me to keep the house in order, but I’m getting too old. The stairs are too steep and getting around this immense home has become cumbersome. Gerdie’s fiancé, Stan, is a real estate agent. He said I could get a good price for it and I don’t doubt that. When he sold my good friend Clara’s house, she got top dollar for it. Now he keeps urging me to sell. He says it’s a good time to do it, but I ... I don’t want ... I can’t sell it yet,” she finished firmly.
“Why not?” Garnet asked.
“Because ...” Elizabeth sighed. “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as it sounds.” She seated herself in the armchair and motioned for Garnet to seat herself as well. As Garnet sank into the sagging burgundy sofa behind her, an unusual hand-painted clock on the centre of the mantelpiece began to chime. Elizabeth waited for it to finish, and Garnet felt her eyes on her again, as they had been the day before. Elizabeth hesitated, then seemed to come to some sort of a decision.
“You see, a long time ago, in April of 1940, I came to this house as a young bride. My husband, Albert, went to war two months after we were married. He was a pilot and went willingly, the war being a cause he believed in. I was left behind with my father-in-law, Reginald Tate. He was rather a strange man. Eccentric might be the better word. I often wondered if some sort of dementia had set in. Of course, it didn’t help that he’d been deaf in one ear since the Boer War and was losing his hearing in the other ear as well. In any case, I was left behind with him and the housekeeper until his death in March of 1942. In that time, I found his behaviour to be, well, quite frankly, a little unusual.”
Garnet frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, he would say things. Things that didn’t make sense. And he only got worse as time went on,” Elizabeth explained. “He was a very religious man and would sometimes quote the Bible. He’d go on about the ’Day of Christ,’ or how if the owner of the house had known what time the thief was coming, he’d have kept watch and not let the thief break in. He’d ramble on and on, whether anyone was listening or not.
“In the end he contracted pneumonia and became delirious with fever. The doctor was called but nothing could be done for him. The housekeeper did her best to keep him comfortable and, of course, I tried to help, for Albert’s sake, but I’m afraid I wasn’t able to do much. Whenever I’d enter his room, he’d only shout at me. I don’t think he remembered who I was anymore. Except on the day he died. That day, the housekeeper summoned me and said that Mr. Tate should like to speak with me.”
Garnet lifted her eyebrows. “What did he say?”
“Well, as you can imagine, I was a little taken aback. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. He was quite feverish and gasping when I entered the room, and I thought, at first, that maybe the housekeeper had misunderstood. But he looked right at me when he spoke, and he seemed to be trying to relay a message. He said, ’The angel. Tell Albert. The angel. Look. The cross. Remember Thomas. The angel will guide you.’ Something like that. I assumed it was more of his nonsensical religious gibberish. I had no idea who Thomas was or what he was talking about. But he pointed to that angel.” Elizabeth directed a finger toward the mantelpiece where a silver angel stood to the right of the clock. “He used to keep it on his night stand.”
“So, what was he trying to tell you?” Garnet asked.
“I don’t know. That is, I don’t know for sure.” Elizabeth’s eyes were downcast as she twisted the gold ring on her left hand. “I wrote to Albert about his father’s death and what he had said to me. Albert replied that I was not to worry. He would explain everything to me when he returned. But he never did come back,
you see, so there was never any explanation.” She gave a deep sigh. “Maybe Reginald was just talking gibberish — that’s what Albert would have told me. He was strange, after all. Anyone could see it.” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “The thing is, something happened a few years after the war that has always made me wonder.”
“Wonder what?” Garnet asked.
“Wonder if his words were more than just gibberish. You see, one spring night, after I’d been out, I returned home and heard noises in the house. I noticed a broken window in the kitchen and quickly realized I had an intruder, so I left to call the police from the neighbour’s house. They soon arrived, but the intruder escaped and ran to the park where he had left his car. He sped away and the police followed. They chased him all the way to the outskirts of the city, but before they could stop him, he lost control, drove into the Grand River, and drowned. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. Sometimes my mind even plays tricks on me and I dream that I hear someone walking around the house at night.” Her pale blue eyes narrowed behind her gold-rimmed glasses. “The point is, I’ve always wondered whether that was a random break-in or if the intruder knew anything about the jewels.”
Garnet’s eyebrows knitted together. “The jewels? What jewels, Elizabeth?”
“The royal jewels of Sofia Tate.”
2
Portrait of Sofia Tate
A loud knock sounded at the door and Gerdie pattered to the front hall to answer it.
“Hello, Danny,” Garnet heard her say in a monotone voice.
“Hello, Miss Pitt,” a young man’s voice replied. “How are you today?” he added cheerfully.
“Fine. Just fine. Come on back to the kitchen with those,” she ordered. Garnet heard Gerdie’s footsteps move down the hallway, with heavier ones following.
Elizabeth reached for her cane. “Sounds like Danny’s here with the groceries,” she said. “Excuse me.” She rose from the chair and shuffled out of the room, leaving Garnet alone.
The Jewels of Sofia Tate Page 2