The Secret Lake

by Karen Inglis

  ‘Would you like a biscuit, dear?’

  ‘No thanks,’ Tom said weakly.

  Stella almost choked on her orange juice. She had never known Tom refuse a biscuit!

  Everyone paused for thought. Then Tom spoke again. ‘Where’s Harry, Mrs Moon? And Charlie Green?’ He was in defiant mood and obviously didn’t give two hoots about giving the old lady a heart attack.

  Stella cleared her throat impatiently, then held her breath in anticipation.

  ‘Ah, yes, dear, Harry!’

  Mrs Moon leaned forward from her chair with a strange smile, then, with a shaking arm, poured herself a cup of tea. She sat back, took a sip from her cup then lowered it decisively onto the saucer. As the clank of china reverberated around the room Stella and Tom both flinched. Now, as the old lady cleared her throat, Stella knew that she was about to make her announcement.

  Stella crunched hard on her biscuit and stared beyond Mrs Moon trying not to look too interested. As she did so, she fixed her gaze on an old trunk covered in a white lace cloth, down to the side of Mrs Moon’s chair. As the old lady began to speak Stella’s stare remained fixed on this seemingly obscure piece of furniture, and yet the longer she stared the faster her heart began to beat.

  Mrs Moon started to say something about Harry and Charlie but suddenly Stella wasn’t listening. By now her cheeks were burning. Her eyesight wasn’t bad, but in the dim yellow light she couldn’t be sure of what she was seeing.

  With her head spinning, Stella downed her glass of orange juice in one and plonked it on the trolley in front of her.

  ‘Is there any more juice?’ she blurted out.

  An awkward silence filled the room as Stella felt her cheeks turn purple. She then gave Mrs Moon the most enormous grin. This rudeness wasn’t like her at all, but she just had to get a look at that trunk.

  With a look of surprise Mrs Moon began to raise herself from the chair. ‘Why, of course there is, dear. Help me up will you, Tom.’

  ‘Shall I get it?’ Tom offered politely.

  Stella looked at her brother in astonishment. First refusing biscuits. Now offering to help someone! Exactly what had come over him in the last five minutes?

  ‘No, no, dear. I’m fine,’ said Mrs Moon gently. ‘You sit down. I shall be right back.’

  ‘Hey, Stella!’ Tom could barely contain himself.

  But Stella didn’t hear him. She was already at the side of the trunk.

  ‘Look, Tom! Look!’ she whispered excitedly.

  Though worn in places, the gold lettering was clear enough. And yet, as she took the deepest of breaths, Stella could barely believe what she was reading. But there it was – clear as daylight: Miss S E Gladstone.

  Tom was quickly at his sister’s side, and as he crouched down and read the words a broad grin spread out across his face.

  ‘Sophie Gladstone!’ Stella gasped in a whisper. ‘Mrs Moon must be Sophie!’

  17

  Unmasked

  ‘Dear, me, I see you’ve beaten me to my story, dears!’

  The children jumped up in alarm. Mrs Moon stood in the doorway holding Stella’s glass of orange juice. She had a strange smile on her face as she fixed a vacant stare on the children. And now Stella remembered. This was the stare she had given them that day in the patio garden. It was a stare that at the time had felt familiar, but which she had cast aside in her mind.

  ‘Sophie Gladstone?’ said Stella in astonishment. ‘Is your real name Sophie Gladstone?’

  Mrs Moon’s face lit up with amusement. ‘Oh, dear me, no!’ she chuckled. ‘No, dears! Look!’ Her face was beaming as she gestured with her stick towards a second trunk sitting in the far corner by the window. ‘There’s mine, over there, dears!’

  Stella walked slowly across the room towards the trunk, her heart thumping against her chest. As she crouched down and carefully lifted the white lace a haze of tears blurred her vision. But it didn’t matter of course. She knew what the letters would say. After a moment’s pause she wiped her eyes, then with quivering voice she read the name out loud: ‘Miss E M Gladstone’.

  Mrs Moon placed the glass of orange juice on the trolley. ‘That’s right, dears,’ she said gently. ‘I am Emma Gladstone, the same young Emma you met when you travelled down the time tunnel.’ She shook her head and sighed deeply as her eyes started to glisten. ‘Dear me, it all seems such a long time ago!’

  Stella stood up and stared across at the old lady, already searching for signs of Emma.

  Suddenly the old lady smiled at Tom. Then she winked. ‘Tom had guessed, hadn’t you, dear?’ To Stella’s astonishment, Tom gave a triumphant grin. She turned towards her brother in disbelief.

  ‘But how, Tom? How could you possibly have known?’

  Mrs Moon nodded towards the door Tom had disappeared through earlier. ‘Tom the unstoppable!’ she said chuckling. ‘I should have known you’d go snooping in there, Tom! Go along now, dear. Show your big sister.’

  As Stella followed Tom into the bedroom her eyes froze open in disbelief. The walls were crammed with large gilt-framed portraits, each one bearing the name ‘Gladstone’ on a bronze coloured plaque at the bottom. But Tom ignored these paintings. Instead, under the solemn gaze of the various members of the Gladstone family, he strode around the bed and to the far end of the room. There, in pride of place above a fireplace, hung by far the smallest picture.

  As she approached, Stella saw it was of a young dark- haired girl holding a small dog. ‘E. M. Gladstone’ read the tag across the bottom. It was the same picture they had seen in the Gladstones’ dining room when they travelled down the time tunnel.

  ‘Emma Margaret Gladstone,’ said Mrs Moon from the doorway. ‘And Harry, of course. Dearest Harry! But come now. Let’s sit down again. There really is so much to tell.’

  Stella’s mind buzzed with questions as they left the bedroom. Could this old lady really be Emma? Was it possible she was still alive after all that time? If this was her, what was she doing living in a different house in the garden? And what did Charlie Green have to do with all this?

  The children sat down again. ‘Well, dears,’ said Mrs Moon slowly, ‘I do believe I owe you an explanation.’ She smiled as she looked each of them in the eye. ‘No doubt you’ve both been wondering if your adventure wasn’t just a silly dream!’

  The children nodded in silence.

  ‘Well, my dears, I can tell you now it wasn’t a dream.’ She shook her head and chuckled. ‘I shall never forget the day Harry found you behind that bush when we were out having lessons with Miss Walker! And do you remember the look on my face, Tom, when Jack dropped down the chimney breast!’ Tom could only smile and nod as his throat went tight.

  ‘You know, I was sure it was going to be my good friend Lucy,’ said Mrs Moon, ‘all ready to look for the moles. What a shock it all was! But, oh, what an adventure!’

  And now as the old lady’s eyes began to sparkle, Stella could see. How delicately time had traced itself into her small pale face. Yet, despite the wrinkles, she was still very beautiful. The child’s face was still in there. The dark round eyes, eager for adventure. This was Emma all right. Her youthful spirit had never left her, it had simply got buried as she had grown older.

  ‘I’m sorry we had to leave you,’ said Stella weakly. ‘We really wanted to bring you with us, you know.’

  ‘Oh, don’t you go worrying yourself about that, dear,’ said Mrs Moon brightly. ‘My adventure didn’t end there you know!’ Tom and Stella sat up in surprise as the old lady gave a mischievous grin.

  ‘You see, my dears, two days later Lucy and I went on our mole hunt after all! I’d told her about you two and the time tunnel of course. She was desperate to come and meet you again. It was her idea that we should look for the tunnel as soon as possible.’

  Now the old lady’s eyes sparkled again. ‘And do you know what, Tom and Stella?’ She clutched her chest like an excited young child. ‘The moles danced for us – and we rowed across the lake an
d found the tunnel!’

  Tom was leaning so far forward he almost fell off his chair.

  ‘Where did it take you?’ asked Stella. She held her breath, hardly daring to think what she might hear next.

  ‘Well,’ said Mrs Moon, sitting back, ‘I was hoping we would be able to visit you in the same time as you had come from, but instead we came out in the garden at a time beyond even today!’

  Stella put her hand to her mouth just as Tom’s chair collapsed on the floor behind him.

  ‘Wow! Did you see aliens and stuff?’ he cried scrambling up.

  Stella shot him an impatient glance as Mrs Moon smiled and gazed towards the window. ‘You know, dears, the garden was still as enchanting and happy a place as ever, filled with children’s laughter and fun.’ She breathed in deeply and sat looking at the children.

  ‘Mrs Moon…what did you find?’ asked Stella nervously.

  The old lady hesitated. Then she smiled. ‘Well, all I will say, Stella, is I am sure you will both enjoy the garden for many years to come!’

  Stella bit her bottom lip as she tried to take in what Mrs Moon had just said. Did this mean they were going to meet Emma again in the future? Somehow she knew that she couldn’t ask.

  ‘But you did go back home afterwards, didn’t you?’ she said.

  ‘Oh yes, of course we did, dear. But we got into a lot of trouble, you know.’

  Tom and Stella leaned forward, eager to hear more. ‘You see we had stayed away for three days! The police were called and they went on at us so much in the end we told our story. Of course no-one believed us, and we couldn’t prove it. My father never really forgave me for making him look so foolish. It was all over the newspapers.’

  A wave of sadness broke across Mrs Moon’s face, but passed as quickly as it had appeared. ‘By the time I left home and met Edward I’d started using my middle name, Margaret.’

  ‘But why?’ said Stella.

  ‘Well, you know, everyone I met as I was growing up seemed to remember the Emma Gladstone time tunnel story and it all got so tiresome in the end.’

  The old lady stared up at the portrait again. ‘Edward died twenty years ago. We hadn’t any children, and it was only then I decided to move back to the garden. With the houses all divided into flats now it’s perfect for me. I do so love it here.’

  ‘But what about Harry?’ said Stella suddenly.

  Mrs Moon chuckled. ‘Of course! Dearest Harry! That’s who we were talking about when this all started! Well, Harry was given to me as a puppy for my fifth birthday. We lived for each other. My mother had that picture painted of us just after I got him. I missed him terribly when he finally died.’

  To the children’s surprise, a childlike grin now spread across the old lady’s face. ‘But then, you know what, Tom and Stella? It was a few days after I moved back here to the garden – Harry came back!’

  ‘Came back?’ they exclaimed.

  ‘I could barely believe it myself,’ said Mrs Moon chuckling. ‘You see, I had got up early and gone for a walk in the garden. I’ve always woken early since Edward died. And then, out of the blue, there they were! The moles again!’

  The old lady frowned and tutted. ‘They vanished as quickly as they appeared, so naturally I thought I’d imagined it. But then, as I was walking back to my flat, he appeared – racing across the lawn. Soaking wet. It was Harry all right. I’d know my Harry anywhere!’

  Confused thoughts flashed through Stella’s mind as she tried to take in what she’d heard. ‘Mrs Moon, are you telling us that your Harry here is the same Harry you had as a child?’

  ‘That’s right, dear!’ said Mrs Moon beaming. ‘And, you know, it all makes so much sense!’ She gazed out towards the garden. ‘Harry’s coming and going didn’t bother me at first. I knew he must have found a way to travel between me and my old time. Perhaps the moles divulge themselves to animals more readily? Who knows? ‘He’s gone to see the young me!’ I would chuckle to myself on the days I remembered things clearly.

  ‘You see,’ she went on, ‘I believe Harry doesn’t want me to grow lonely in my old age and that’s why he keeps coming to see me. It also explains his absences when I was a child.’

  Now the old lady looked down. ‘But then you know, dears, age has a way of playing tricks on you. I’m over 100 now, and my memory comes and goes from one day to the next. That means I don’t always remember about Harry – or our adventure.’

  ‘Wow!’ said Tom, beaming with admiration.

  The old lady continued. ‘You know, I do wonder if the moles have something to do with my long life – and Harry’s. He lived until he was 16, you know. That was quite a record back in those days!’

  Stella stared in silent astonishment. Perhaps what Mrs Moon had told their mother about her age hadn’t been so wrong after all.

  Mrs Moon paused, then gave the children a strange smile. ‘You know, Tom and Stella, I feel happy now. I think Harry may have returned to the young Emma for good – to live his life out in peace. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Before it gets too late.’

  Stella tried hard to swallow, but a lump had risen in her throat. Was Mrs Moon telling them she was about to die?

  The old lady leaned forward and pointed with her frail hand towards a side table. ‘Look, Stella, in there.’

  Slowly Stella raised herself from her chair and pulled open the mahogany drawer. Her friendship bracelet, its cotton threads now worn and faded, lay on top of a pile of folded white napkins. She bowed her head, trying to hide her tears as she remembered Hannah’s words.

  ‘I think you should take it, dear,’ said Mrs Moon with a gentle smile.

  Tom suddenly jumped up. ‘Mrs Moon,’ he blurted out, ‘what’s Charlie Green got to do with all this? Has he been down the time tunnel too?’

  Stella shot him an impatient glance.

  Mrs Moon sat back in surprise.

  ‘Bless me, no dear!’ the old lady chuckled. Then she paused and cleared her throat. ‘But, oh, I think I do see why you’re asking.’ She studied the carpet for a few moments then raised her eyes towards Tom.

  ‘Well, Tom, I have to confess that Charlie does know about the time tunnel. And that you went down it – in fact he knew about that before you did!’

  Tom and Stella exchanged looks of disbelief.

  ‘You see, dears, what with Harry’s coming and going all soaking wet I felt I really had to explain, in case he stopped him going back. Anyway, he was wonderful about it.’ She shook her head and smiled. ‘You know, I think it was only when you two moved here that he really believed me! He’s always been very protective about the molehills since I told him, and I’m sorry, Tom, if he’s been a bit sharp about them.’

  ‘But why didn’t you tell us you were Emma?’ asked Tom.

  The old lady smiled. ‘How could I, dear? You needed to go and rescue Jack. I didn’t dare interfere with that. And then what with my memory—’

  A grandfather clock chimed in the shadows.

  ‘Dear me, is that the time?’ said Mrs Moon in a fluster. ‘Nurse Goodson will be here presently. You really must be getting home, dears.’

  They all stood up and slowly she led them out to the kitchen.

  ‘Well children, it was wonderful to see you again!’ she said. ‘And I’m so glad I’ve been able to share my story with you at last.’

  ‘We’ll come and see you tomorrow,’ said Stella brightly. ‘There’s only one more week of the holidays left.’

  Tom nodded in solemn agreement as they stepped out into cold.

  ‘Of course, dears. Goodbye, dears!’ And Mrs Moon closed the door.

  18

  Journey’s End

  The next morning before breakfast Tom and Stella’s mother called them into the sitting room and gently broke the news that Mrs Moon had died peacefully during the night.

  The children stared at the wall behind their mother, each trying to take in what they had heard. Tears of frustration immediately began welling in Tom’s
eyes. Why oh why did Mrs Moon have to go and die now? Just when their adventure had begun again? There was still so much to talk about. So much to try to understand. And with Mrs Moon’s help he felt certain they could have found the time tunnel and gone back again.

  Stella, sitting quietly beside him, was trying to imagine what dying or being dead must feel like. She felt strangely calm on hearing the news; content that Mrs Moon was at last at peace with her beloved Harry. At the same time it occurred to her that by going back down the time tunnel they could, she supposed, if they got the dates right, bring Mrs Moon back to life again and carry on with their secret adventure. Then she thought about what Mrs Moon had told them. Perhaps they would meet her again one day in the future? After all, she had hinted at this, hadn’t she?

  But then, without warning, it hit her. Mrs Moon, Emma, was gone. They would probably never see her again. ‘What about Harry?’ she whispered, as one after the other the tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Her mother sat down and put her arms around her. ‘Not a sign of him anywhere. He hasn’t been seen for over a week now. You know what? I think Margaret’s gone to find him!’

  Stella tugged at a lock of her long blonde hair and began gently sobbing as she mulled over a host of unspeakable thoughts.

  ‘I feel sorry for Charlie,’ said Stella on the morning after the funeral as they sat watching him pottering around by his shed in the distance. ‘He looks so lonely all of a sudden. Look how much more slowly he’s moving about. He seems to have his head bowed down all the time.’

  Tom frowned at the grass between his shoes. He felt let down by Charlie Green – angry at him for not letting on he knew.

  ‘He’s coming this way!’ whispered Stella suddenly. She scrambled to her feet, slowly followed by Tom.

  Charlie was walking towards them carrying a hold-all, and as he approached they could see dark circles around his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept for a week.