Mother,
I’ve made an awful mistake. I know you tried to tell me – tried to stop me from leaving – but I couldn’t stay. My head was so full of dark thoughts. I feel like such a failure. Rumer and Lawrence are the most important people in my life. Lawrence won’t take my calls. I can’t seem to get through to you on the home line. I’m coming home. I want to be there for Rumer’s birthday. Can you please tell Lawrence that I love him? He must know that. Tell him to give our baby girl a kiss for me.
I’ll see you soon.
Your loving daughter,
Rebecca
A wave of sadness – so fierce that I felt like falling – crashed over me.
“So why is this stuff all locked away?” asked Luke.
“Rumer,” I said.
“Who knows,” said Rumer with a shrug.
“Rumer! I think you should read this,” I said. I held out the letter.
Rumer threw back her head and took a deep breath then she looked at me coolly. “Can we get something to eat? And I need to get out of these clothes. I’m freezing.”
“Rumer!”
Luke shook his head at me, but I followed my cousin down the stairs.
“The stupid TV isn’t even working, so we can’t watch that. I’ve got some movies on my laptop,” she said. “Maybe we can watch something on that after dinner –”
“Rumer!” I grabbed her arm and she swung around, the torchlight making her face look ghostly white.
“What!” she demanded.
“Don’t you want to read this? It’s from your mother. She says she loves you.”
Rumer shrugged. “Sorry, cuz. What do you want me to say? My mum left and then she got herself killed, end of story.”
Rumer got some dry clothes from her bedroom, then made me wait outside the bathroom door for her as she got changed.
“I might as well use that water,” she said.
The sound of the pipes clanging as she topped up with hot water sent a shudder through me and I called out a few times to her just to hear her voice. Luke went downstairs to see what had happened to the spaghetti sauce. After ten minutes, Rumer emerged in her black T-shirt and PJ pants.
“Rumer–”
“I’m starving,” she said. “Are you getting changed?”
We didn’t talk about Rumer’s mum for the rest of the night. We did talk about who had ransacked the house, though. Rumer finally gave up on the idea of a vengeful ghost.
“Where’s Mr Chilvers?” asked Luke. “I thought he was coming back this afternoon?”
I explained the phone call from Grandma and what I thought her message had been.
“It was Mr Chilvers,” said Rumer. “I told you he was creepy.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“There was something about his eyes,” continued Rumer, ignoring me. “Maybe he was an escaped criminal? Maybe he planned this all along?”
“Mr Chilvers was a farmer,” I argued. “Besides, he knew we’d be here. I don’t think our burglar was expecting anyone to be home.”
We argued about the thief over dinner. Luke found Mrs Skelton’s house keys lying near the front door, and Rumer insisted this proved that the intruder was definitely Mr Chilvers – that all the evidence pointed his way.
We checked the doors a million times to make sure they were locked, and then watched a movie on Rumer’s laptop in the TV room. We went to sleep – Rumer on the couch and Luke and I on a chair each – with the fire crackling and the wind gusting rain against the windows. Deep into the night I woke to the sound of the clock chiming out the quarter hour and noticed Luke poking the fire and putting on another log of wood. I lowered my eyelids half-mast and watched as he tucked my blanket closer about me. I closed my eyes as he touched my cheek softly with his fingers and I couldn’t help the smile that curved on my face. I wondered who had left the love notes under Rumer’s door and why. Then I slipped back into sleep until I woke to the sound of a car horn tooting early the next morning.
Grandma Vinegar was home.
Chapter 27
Through the TV Room window I could see Grandma ordering a taxi driver to be careful with her luggage. Mr Chilvers was nowhere in sight.
“Quick!” I shook Rumer’s shoulder, then Luke’s, who snored in protest. “Come on, come on, Grandma Vinegar’s home!”
I cleared the dishes from the coffee table and hurried into the kitchen, stacking them neatly on the sink. I grabbed the dirty spag bog saucepan and shoved it into the oven of the new stove – I’d clean it later.
The front door rattled and Grandma Vinegar called out, “Freya! Rumer!” Then I heard her say, “Where are my keys, Livinia?”
I brushed my hair with my fingers and tried to smooth down my clothes. By the time Grandma came through the front door we pretty much had things under control.
“Haven’t you got appointments? Why are you home?” I babbled.
Grandma took one look at me and said, “Oh, my goodness, Freya, what has happened here?” and I realised I wasn’t fooling anyone.
Mrs Skelton came through the door carrying the tapestry beauty case. “It’s freezing in here,” she grumbled. “What’s all this mess?”
“I knew it,” said Grandma, triumphantly. “I told you, Livinia. I knew I shouldn’t have left the house yesterday. I could feel it in my bones … What has happened? Have you heard from Mr Chilvers? Is the power out?”
By now Luke and Rumer were standing sleepy-eyed at the TV room door. Grandma took one look at them, ordered Mrs Skelton to make a pot of tea, then ordered the rest of us back into the TV room. While Luke stoked up the fire, Rumer and I sat on the couch and Grandma prowled about the room like a nervous cat.
“I’m afraid Mr Chilvers and I have had a falling out,” she said briskly. “An issue about his wages. Nothing for you to be concerned about.”
Luke sat down on a chair.
“We had … words when we arrived in Port Eden. It seems Mr Chilvers was after a pay rise, although we’d already agreed I would look at a pay increase at the end of the next financial year … Then he took off with the car. I thought he may have come back here …” she said with a lift of an eyebrow. “I couldn’t get a taxi back until this morning. It has cost me an absolute fortune. So, no Mr Chilvers?”
Rumer shook her heard but Luke and I looked at each other.
“There was … somebody here last night,” I said with a little cough. “They ransacked the house. I’m not sure what they’ve taken – the silver definitely. It was too hard to check out in the dark.”
“Someone … last night?” Grandma pursed her lips and her nostrils flared in anger. “You think it was Mr Chilvers? Did he hurt you? Did he–”
“We hid,” said Rumer. “He just took some stuff. He went into the attic.”
Grandma flinched. “As long as you’re all right–”
“The trunk’s open,” said Rumer. “The one with all my mother’s things. Why were they hidden like that?”
Mrs Skelton rattled into the room with a tray loaded with cups and spoons and a teapot. “I suppose you want me to pour it as well?” she said sourly.
“Thank you, Livinia, I think we are all in need of tea,” said Grandma. “This is most upsetting.”
“Grandma?” said Rumer.
Grandma moved over to the window and looked out. “I didn’t hide things from you, Rumer. I just packed things away. It was a tragic loss–”
“How could you! She was my mother!”
“And she was my daughter,” said Grandma fiercely. She pulled at the wrap around her shoulders and raised her chin a little. “Rebecca was my daughter,” she said in a softer tone. “You were just an infant. Your father was out of his mind with grief when she had the accident. He begged me to clear her things away. He wanted me to burn everything. But I kept them. I thought … in time … I thought he might want to share those things with you. I’ve tried to talk to him …” She shrugged. “He won’t hear of it. He won’t
hear of it,” she repeated.
“I suppose you’ll want biscuits,” said Mrs Skelton. Nobody said anything. “Well, I want a biscuit,” she said. “And we should probably call the police. Has anyone checked the phone line this morning?”
I heard her grumbling as she moved out to the telephone.
“I’m making breakfast,” I said, pulling Luke’s arm. “And Luke’s helping me.”
I closed the TV room door behind us and hoped Grandma and Rumer might talk some more. I was scrambling eggs in a pan when Mrs Skelton came into the kitchen and announced the police were on their way.
“What are you doing there?” she asked.
“Making scrambled eggs,” I said.
She shook her head. “I suppose you know what you’re doing.”
Luke was washing the dishes and she told him off for using too much dishwashing liquid.
“Has anyone fed those cats?” she asked.
Luke and I shook our heads and Mrs Skelton disappeared into the pantry on the search for cat food.
I stopped stirring the eggs when an idea struck me. “The love notes,” I said aloud.
“What?” said Luke.
“The love notes, under Rumer’s door …”
Mrs Skelton bustled out of the pantry and filled the cat’s dishes with dry food.
“Do you know anything about the love notes left under Rumer’s door?” I asked Mrs Skelton.
“Love notes?” said Mrs Skelton. “What are you talking about?”
“Someone’s been leaving notes under Rumer’s door.”
Mrs Skelton shook her head then said, “Are you burning those eggs, Freya?”
“Did you slip those notes under Rumer’s door, Mrs Skelton?” I asked.
“What nonsense. Love notes?” Mrs Skelton scoffed.
“Are you trying to burn the bottom out of that pan?”
And with that Mrs Skelton pushed me aside and took over the cooking.
“Maybe you could do something useful. Both of you,” she said, glaring at Luke. “There are still some bags on the front doorstep. And don’t go touching anything else. The police will be wanting to look for clues or something. That’s what they do, isn’t it? I never trusted that man,” I heard her say as the kitchen door closed behind me.
Out on the front doorsteps, I looked out to the sea which was more blue than grey this morning.
“Luke, I have to tell you something,” I said.
Luke was holding had a suitcase in each hand as he came up the stairs and stopped a step down from me so that we were eye to eye.
“What?” he said.
“I’m not going out with anyone.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“You’re not with Hamish Thomson?” he said.
“Definitely not,” I said.
“That photo on Facebook?”
“Tell you later.”
Then I reached up and kissed him – my very first kiss with Luke Hart. His lips were softer than I’d imagined. The kiss was better than I’d imagined.
“Well!” I heard Mrs Skelton behind me gasp.
And then I went back for a second kiss.
The police caught Mr Chilvers sleeping in Grandma’s car outside the Pig and Whistle Hotel in Port Eden later that morning. It seems he’d been at the hotel the day before bragging to anyone who’d listen that he worked at Burnside (Vinegar House’s real name) and was allowed to take the Mercedes out whenever he wanted. The waitress told police that Mr Chilvers had been wearing a set of keys around his neck on a long crocheted chain. And when she asked him about the keys, he’d laughed and said he was playing a joke on someone and how they’d get a surprise when they found the keys missing. But by the next morning he was the one to get a surprise, for the keys were missing from around his neck.
Because there was one person who’d been listening to Mr Chilvers’s stories that night. Someone who was very interested in what he had to say. They probably asked him where this amazing house was. He may have told them the owner was in Port Eden for a night. He obviously hadn’t mentioned us though. It must have shocked the thief to discover someone was in the house. He also must have been annoyed not to find any jewellery. It seems Grandma always carried her jewellery with her in her large tapestry beauty case whenever she left the house.
Mr Chilvers was charged with stealing the Mercedes, but Grandma managed to convince the police that it was all a misunderstanding. I don’t know if she fired him, but he hasn’t returned to Vinegar House, making Mrs Skelton a very happy housekeeper. The police are still looking for the thief, but there haven’t been any breakthroughs yet, and there’s not likely to be, if you ask Mrs Skelton, which I did.
Chapter 28
I’d like to tell you that everything returned to normal after that winter at Vinegar House. And in some ways it did. But in other ways my life had changed forever. I understood the world a little better, well my bit of the world at least. After the police came and asked us questions about the robbery, I rang Suzette Crompt and explained to her exactly what had happened on the night of the party between her boyfriend and me. She thanked me for calling and said she figured it was something like that and she wasn’t going out with him any more anyway. I swear that less than a minute later I had ten texts from people who had previously wanted to rip my eyeballs out and who now wanted to be my best friend. There were also texts from the friends who had been on my side all along. I didn’t bother replying to any of them.
By the time I got home I found there was a new rumour doing the rounds at Homsea High. According to Facebook, Luke Hart and I were an item. Rumer had posted it on Facebook, and Isabella had responded by writing on my Facebook wall to ask about it, then everyone knew – or thought they did. Luke and I were officially talking to each other again – that was a fact. And if we’d started meeting up again at the jetty on Saturday mornings, and if he happened to hold my hand while we were sitting there waiting for our squid jigs to bob about in the water, then it was no one else’s business except his and mine.
And that’s all I want to say about that.
The burglary at Vinegar House caused the locals to shake their heads and mutter about the Kramer’s Folly curse but then there was a break-in at Porky Sudholz’s and a whole side of beef was stolen so they soon forgot about Vinegar House and began rumours about who might have taken the beef. I’m still waiting on an answer to that question. I’ll get back to you as soon as I know.
Mum and Dad returned from overseas. Nanna was on the mend and Mum was happy to have had a visit with her. The Colonel seemed less grumpy than he had before, or maybe I just accepted his grumpiness better. Oscar returned from camp without any broken bones and Isabella went straight back to uni from her vacation, so we had to catch up via Skype. I was counting down the days to Holly’s return but most of all I was happy to be home.
Oh, did I mention I got a job at the bakery? My name had finally risen to the top of the list that I’d been on forever (risen, hah, no pun intended) and I work Tuesdays and Thursdays and Saturday afternoons. This means I can still sleep in on Sunday mornings, so I’m happy. Oscar likes to come by and try to get free food from me, but I stopped giving him any after he started bringing around his whole class.
The thing that didn’t change, well the person really, was Rumer. She is never going to be my favourite cousin. She will never be the type of person to just ring me up or text me to see how I am, and I pretty much feel the same way about her.
But we shared a moment – just before Uncle Lawrence drove her away from Vinegar House those holidays – that I will never forget.
“I need to ask you something,” she said.
“Yeah?”
She leaned close to me, like she was going to give me one of her fake hugs, and said, “I’ve been thinking about those notes. The love notes from Dad to Mum. The ones slipped under my door.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You didn’t put them there–”
“I already said,
didn’t I?” I pulled back a little from her.
She nodded, as if she was satisfied. “I know who did.”
I smiled. “You do?”
“I think they were a sign. From my mother. I think she wanted to reach me somehow. You know. From beyond–” She waved her hand. “Well?” she said. “What do you think?”
I wasn’t sure what to think. I looked into Rumer’s blue eyes – the ones that had looked at me scornfully all my life – and I nodded slowly.
“I think you’re right,” I said.
“She’s been here all along,” she said, smugly. “Looking out for me.”
“Rumer!” Uncle Lawrence called out as he started the car.
“Catch ya later, cuz,” she said. “It’s been real.”
That night I asked Grandma about Rumer’s mother. We were sitting in the TV room watching another old movie. Luke had already left for home before dinner – luckily it was Mr Hart who picked Luke up because it would have taken hours to get rid of Mrs Hart – and Mrs Skelton had gone to bed early with a headache. I asked Grandma Vinegar about Rebecca straight out, though I wasn’t sure if she’d tell me.
Grandma stood up and moved over to the fireplace, warming her hands.
“My daughter was suffering from postnatal depression,” she said finally. “It went undiagnosed, but I believe that’s what it was. She left her family for several months when Rumer was very young. But she did return home.”
The fire settled in the grate.
“Rebecca came home the day before Rumer’s third birthday. It was to be a surprise. She looked so … well. So rested. She was so eager to see everyone, but especially Lawrence and Rumer. We were going to have a party here – the whole family was invited.”
The fire crackled and a spark flew out onto the rug. Grandma stood on it to damp it out.
“We don’t know for sure what happened, but I think she went for a swim at Bluff Beach. It had been incredibly hot for several days. The clothes she’d been wearing that day were laid out on her bed. There was nothing missing – her bag, everything, was in her room. I don’t know if she had a swimming costume with her, but there was no costume in her luggage, so maybe … They found her sandals down on the rocks. We tried to keep everything … discreet. They searched for her along the coast, but … nothing. There was a rumour in Homsea that Rebecca had died in a car accident. I don’t know where they got that idea. I didn’t set them right. It really was no one’s business.”
Love Notes from Vinegar House Page 14