Adam's Thorn

by Angela Verdenius

  Her cheeks flamed, her mouth opened to no doubt verbally roast him, but then she snapped those lush lips shut and rubbed the back of her neck. Blowing out a breath that had her first puffing out her cheeks cutely, though he wouldn’t tell her that, she walked past him to pick up the box. “Fine. I was going to replace every globe in the house.”

  Surprised, he looked from the box to her face. “You blew them all?”

  “No, they all work fine. It’s just they’re very dim and I want some brightness around.”

  He couldn’t help the small smile. “Yeah, Penny always was a bill saver.”

  Her answering smile was swift, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, which was a damn shame because when she was amused, her eyes brightened.

  Why he should even notice that was beyond him. Not wanting to ponder it too closely, he picked up the ladder. “Lead on.”

  Silently they went through the house, he going up the ladder and removing the old globe, she carrying the box and handing the new globes up to him. When he’d finished and was carrying the step ladder back to the storeroom, the phone was ringing.

  By the time Barbie walked in from outside, the answering machine clicked on, and he couldn’t help but hear the message as he placed the step ladder in the store cupboard.

  “Hi Barbie,” Larry’s girlfriend’s voice came on. “After seeing you do that massage on Larry yesterday, and how good his sore back feels, I’d like to book in a session with you.” She laughed “I promise not to moan as loudly as he did! Anyway, ring me back on this number and we can book a time.” She said the phone number and hung up.

  Adam sighed. Talk about feeling like a low-life. Closing the door, he turned to see Barbie walking into the kitchen, the big tabby on her heels. She didn’t say a word.

  Shaking his head at his own stupidity the previous day, Adam followed her, stopping in the doorway.

  At the kitchen sink, she was pouring water form the tap into a glass, barely glancing up as he came to a stop.

  “Barbie,” he said quietly, “another apology.”

  “It’s all right,” she replied just as quietly.

  “Another conclusion I jumped to, and a damned wrong one.” He thrust one hand through his hair and sighed. “I’m so sorry. Accusing you of giving out sexual favours when you were just doing your massage, it was a lousy thing to do.”

  Her smile was tight, her gaze not quite meeting his. “Under the circumstances, why would you think any different?”

  He studied her. “Because circumstances change.”

  “Do they?” Her laugh was brief, brittle.

  “Have they?” Adam asked, genuinely curiously. “What’s happened in your life, Barbie?”

  “What difference does it make?” She looked at him then, her expression flat. “I’m only here for a short time, I don’t intend to make good friends. Thanks for the help, I appreciate it. I’m sure you have work to do.” There was a knock on the door, a voice hailing her. “I know I do.”

  “Ali?” Adam recognised the voice.

  “My appointment.” Without giving him a chance to say anything further, Barbie called out, “Come in, Ali.”

  Any chance he had of pursuing the conversation was gone as Ali bounded in, her gaze flicking from Adam to Barbie, though she had the manners not to question his presence.

  “Thanks for helping change the light globes.” Barbie gave him a tight smile. “I hope you’re okay to see yourself to the door? Don’t let the cats out, that’s all. Ali, follow me.”

  Not having much choice, Adam nodded to her, smiled at Ali, and left the room.

  Sitting in the patrol car, he stared at the house. He should be glad she had no intention of staying, he didn’t need reminders of the past. But he was curious about her. She had changed…or so it appeared. Just what had happened to make her change so drastically?

  The wild teenager he remembered bore little resemblance to the woman she’d become, the things she’d done seeming a world apart form the Barbie who had arrived in his town.

  It was a mystery, one he wondered if he’d solve before she left.

  Then he wondered why it even mattered. Starting the car, he drove off.

  ~*~

  “Ooohh, that feels so good.” Ali sighed in pleasure.

  Kneading down her spine, Barbie smiled. “You didn’t say that a few minutes ago when I was kneading that knot out.”

  “Yeah, that was murder. This, however, this is just wond - ouch!” Ali grabbed the top of the table. “Ow ow ow!”

  “Don’t be a baby,” Barbie chided. “I’ll just work these a bit. I don’t have to get them out all at once. If you’re happy to come back for another massage, I can work on them again.”

  Ali glanced over her shoulder. “How about I just book in for a massage on the nice bits?”

  “That’d kind of defeat the purpose.” Barbie ran her fingers through the oil, relaxing her client by kneading gently up the side of her spine.

  Almost immediately, Ali sank back onto the table. “Oh yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Chuckling, Barbie did a few sweeps over her back. “So, coming back?”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Only if you think my working on the knots until they go right now is.”

  “Then I’m coming back. Geez, I can’t handle it all in one go.”

  “Then we’re finished for this session.” Turning to give Ali privacy as she sat up and reached for her blouse, Barbie walked from the room to wash her hands in the bathroom across the hall. By the time she returned, Ali had her blouse on and fastened, and was sitting on the table rocking her feet back and forth.

  “So,” Ali said, “How about coming over Sunday arvo for a drink?”

  “I don’t drink much,” Barbie replied.

  “Well, you know, drink can mean alcohol, soft drink, cup of tea.”

  Barbie dropped the towel into the linen bag. “I have quite a bit to do here still and-”

  “You don’t have to stay for hours.”

  “That’s really nice of you, but-”

  “But what?”

  Sighing, Barbie straightened. “It’s really sweet of you…”

  “Is this anything to do with Adam?”

  Holy cow, the woman was straightforward. “No.”

  “It’s just me and Lori. Come on, I’m sure you could do with some friendly company after your little run-in with Mrs Hubble.”

  Barbie looked at her. “You heard about that, huh?”

  Ali smiled. “Small town and the local gossip monger. What do you think?”

  Obviously Adam hadn’t sorted it out in time. “You’ve got a point.”

  Sliding off the table, Ali crossed the room to where her purse lay on a chair. “You’re new here-”

  “But I’m not staying.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s just a friendly chin-wag. Lori and I are having a cuppa and doing some cooking, catching up on the local…” She paused. “Information.”

  “Gossip?” Barbie suggested dryly.

  “Good lord, no! Information.” Ali grinned. “Anyway, join us for awhile, even just an hour or so. Doesn’t have to be long.”

  Accepting the money from Ali, Barbie couldn’t help but be drawn by the friendliness of the other woman. “Well…” To be truthful, she could do with a little company.

  “How well did you know your Great Aunt Penny?”

  “Not a whole lot, actually, which was why it was such a surprise when she willed me this house.”

  “Ah, well, see, Lori and I knew Ms Declan a little, and we can fill you in on her. A little.” Ali paused, a twinkle in her eyes. “Without the gossip.”

  Curious about the Great Aunt she’d hardly known, Barbie nodded. “Okay. Sure.”

  “Great. We’ll say about two o’clock?” Bending down, Ali picked up the pen and wrote on the notepad lying on the table. “Here’s the address.”

  Barbie just had time to thank her before her next appointment arrived. Lar
ry’s girlfriend was eager for a massage, her calf muscles quite knotted form exercising and playing sports, and while she shrieked and writhed a couple of times while Barbie worked on the knots, she also groaned with relief.

  When she left the rest of the day was clear of bookings, unless someone rang in which was unlikely. That left the afternoon to start going through the rooms and looking properly at the many things her Great Aunt had collected in her lifetime.

  A quick clean of the room, the towels going in to soak in a bucket, and Barbie went to the kitchen to eat a little tub of yoghurt.

  Fred and Barney wandered in, their gazes going straight to the ‘fridge. Laughing, she dished out some raw mince and left them happily consuming it.

  Remembering how old and dusty some of the things were upstairs, as well as the rooms, Barbie changed into pedal pushers and t-shirt before going upstairs with a notepad and pen.

  The house was simply laid out, the bottom floor consisting of a hallway that went from the front of the house to the back, ending with a floor to ceiling window. On one side of the hall was a small study, followed by a large kitchen, and off that the laundry. On the other side of the hall was the small room she had commandeered for a massage room, the lounge room, bathroom and a bedroom. Stairs at the end of the hall led to a small landing off which were three more bedrooms and what was a library combined with sewing paraphernalia and other assorted bits and bobs.

  Opening all the doors and windows to air off the rooms and let in the freshness of the outdoors, Barbie could smell rain in the air. Clouds were gathering though the sun still shone.

  Starting with the furtherest bedroom, she took note of the furniture. Old, dark and very dusty. The bed was a high four-poster with a yellowed bedspread that was once white. The pillows were edged in lace that almost fell apart under her fingers.

  Opening the wardrobe, she smiled at the clothes within, old gowns that possibly dated back to the early twenties.

  Reverently she took them out, marvelling at the material, the intricate stitching, and the style. The smell of mothballs was strong. It would appear that her Great Aunt had been careful not to allow moths and silverfish to get to the clothes.

  The chest of drawers held an array of old-style bras and corsets, knee-length undies and stockings. A wooden box unearthed treasures of shoes with buckles and an old pair of ladies lace-ups with a heel. The leather was cracked.

  Noting everything on the first page of the notebook, Barbie wrote the heading ‘First Bedroom’.

  It was the dressing table that captured her interest the most. The jewel box was old, a dull silver slowly going black, obviously in need of attention and polishing. Opening it, she saw only a few pieces of jewellery, but it still drew a delighted gasp from her.

  Carefully taking the pieces out, she laid them on the dusty top of the dresser. Two old brooches, both studded with diamonds - fake or real, she had no idea - one shaped like a starfish, the other a peacock. The bracelet was dull gold, round and solid. A plain gold ring with what was possibly a diamond ring tied to it with black cotton thread. The cotton snapped when she picked the rings up, and she caught the diamond ring before it could roll off the dressing table. A pair of tear drop jade earrings.

  At least she thought the diamonds and jade were real, but not being an expert in jewellery, she decide to collect all the jewellery in the house later and get them valued by a jeweller. A trip to the city in the near future. But first, she was going to collect all the jewellery, choose what she wanted and then let her mother and sister have a choice. What was left she would sell. Or maybe, depending, she might even donate it to a museum.

  On the wall was a hand stitched sampler and a slightly yellowed black and white photo of a stern-looking young woman, her hair pulled back, mouth unsmiling, a man much older than her standing behind her, his moustache covering an equally stern mouth. They both wore clothes that Barbie thought was possibly from the very early nineteen hundreds, maybe even the late eighteen hundreds.

  The next two bedrooms had once been children’s. In what as obviously the girl’s room, old dolls sat on a shelf, their vacant eyes staring. A sewing box that fell apart as soon as Barbie tried to pick it up spilled out rolls of faded cotton and serval rusty pins and sewing needles. An old children’s Bible sat on a small table next to a dusty lamp. In the boy’s room, an old wind-up monkey with cymbals waited for someone to turn the rusty key and set it clattering. A one-eyed teddy bear, definitely moth-eaten. Toy wooden soldiers in a mouldering old box. The bedspread had a sailing ship stitched onto it. A boy’s clothes in the wardrobe, the strong smell of moth balls, and in the drawers were boy’s pants, shoes in a wooden box. The clothes of the children weren’t as well preserved as the woman’s clothes she’d found, and appeared to be much older.

  Personally, the toys creeped her out. The staring eyes, the porcelain faces…the fact she read horror books and could almost imagine the dolls turning their heads to look at her as soon as she turned her back.

  If the toy monkey started clanging its cymbals, she was leaving. Fast.

  Barney had wandered upstairs and was lying on the bed in the woman’s room, so she carefully ushered him out and shut the doors of the rooms she’d investigated.

  Disgruntled, he flopped onto the armchair in the small library and proceeded to wash his manly bits.

  “Nice,” Barbie told him. “No decorum.”

  Ignoring her, he switched to grooming his face.

  Rain pattered softly against the window and Barbie turned on the light to see better, glad she’d had the dim globes changed to brighter ones.

  The library had a lot of old books. Carefully she pulled out an old copy of Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, delighted to find the spine stitched, the covers hard and cloth-covered, with colour plates depicting scenes from the story. The pages were thick, illustrated with ink drawings.

  “Beautiful.” Running her hands along the books, she read out several of the titles. “‘The Little Colonel’s Hero’ by Annie Fellows Johnston, ‘The Glad School’ by Constance Mackness, ‘Little Bit O’ Sunshine’ by Isabel M. Peacock. Wow, these are books for young teen girls.”

  Barney wasn’t impressed, as evidenced by his bored yawn.

  “I read these at Gran’s house when she was alive.” Replacing them in the bookcase, she moved to the desk. It had been cleaned out at one time, the only things on it a blotter, an old bottle of dried-out ink, and a rusted old pen with a nib.

  The stool had no back, and the tapestried cover was faded, a small hole in one section.

  Several photos were on the wall, and she recognised one of them as her Great Aunt Penny. Younger, taken in the forties, she was dressed in a military uniform of some kind. Now Barbie remembered that she’d been in the Army during the Second World War. Never married, she’d lived at the family home, inheriting it upon her mother’s death. Her photo showed a pretty, plump young woman with laughing eyes and curly brown hair in the style of the day. Barbie wondered why she’d never married.

  The other photos were of a man she didn’t know, though he, too, was dressed in Army clothes. An older photo of a woman with Great Aunt Penny, and going by the facial similarities and age, obviously her mother. Another photo was of a horse and buggy, a dog sitting on the seat and a man leaning against the wheel smoking a pipe, his hat pulled low, his trousers held up by suspenders, a smile on his face.

  Taking the photos carefully off the wall, Barbie gently opened the backs to see if there was any writing to identify the people. Disappointingly, there was nothing. Replacing them on the wall, she turned to the old sewing machines. One had a foot pedal, the other was a newer, though still antiqued, model. A bolt of cloth lay on a table, dusty and faded. A sewing box stood beside it, the grime of it covering what had obviously once been a green flower print. An old, cracked vase with a porcelain rose stuck on it sat on the windowsill.

  The only things clean in the room were the bookcase of books, the armchair, and the small table that
stood beside it. On a small doily sat an empty glass. The glass was definitely modern, as it had a bright daisy stuck on the side.

  Had Great Aunt Penny come up here to read? Maybe she enjoyed the room, though why she hadn’t bothered to clean it apart form a small section she used was beyond Barbie’s understanding.

  Thunder rumbled overhead, making her jump. Barney glanced around, whiskers quivering.

  Crossing to the window, Barbie gazed out at the grounds behind the house. She’d been out there several times to look around, but it was very plain. No garden except for four rose bushes that badly needed pruning. They were planted about two feet apart in a straight line, approximately twenty feet from the back door. Everything else was just natural, the land with some wild flowers, patches of wild grass here and there, and a couple of fruit trees. An old well that was filled in, she’d checked that already. An old garden shed not far away, a rusty old tractor, an old wagon that had long ago fallen apart and was more a pile of rotted wood than anything, and a surprisingly almost new clothesline.

  Oddly, now that she looked at the roses from this angle, she could see that they were planted in an area on their own, for no real reason that she could determine. Who knew what her Great Aunt was thinking when she planted them, or even when, because the stems were thick, heavily thorned, the roses quite old fashioned in comparison to the varieties bred in modern times.

  Barely visible under one of the bushes, she caught a glimpse of white. Frowning, she angled her head, trying to peer through the rain running down the window. Yep, there was definitely something white amongst the branches of the rose bush.

  The light outside was growing darker and she decided to leave investigating the bush for the morning.

  Stepping back into the room, she picked up the notepad and pen in one hand, scooping Barney up in the other.

  “Geez.” She pulled him in close to her body, “You’re getting fat.” When he just hung there, head hanging down, paws dangling, she added, “Don’t get upset. I can say that ‘cause I am, too.” When he didn’t respond except for a twitch of his ears, she smiled. “We’ve got rocking bodies, you handsome hunk. Let’s take our delectable figures downstairs so I can clean up and cook some tea.”