“But the money. You can’t spend it on me. It’s for your mum!”
“Yes, I can,” he said. “Because in the next couple of days, you’re going to help me find something fabulous. And extremely inexpensive.”
Before I could protest, Ned had stepped to the curb and hailed a black London cab. When it stopped, Ned reached out and opened the door. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”
This day was not going at all like I had planned. Still, there was nothing to do but hop in and see what would happen next.
As we pulled up near Twinings Tea Shop, it began to rain. Ned asked the driver to pull over and let me out.
“What about some tea for your mum?” I asked Ned. “I could get a sample pack or something fun like that.”
He shook his head. “No, thanks. Too boring. I want something really special.”
“What if you got a new teacup to go with it?”
He thought about it for a moment before he shook his head again. That was it, then. Tea was out.
“Ned’s going to stay and I’ll be right back,” I told the driver. He was an old man with glasses and a beard and hadn’t said a word since we’d gotten into the car. Even now, he simply nodded, letting me know he understood.
The fare was already up to over ten pounds and the thought of it going much higher made my stomach hurt. I had to hurry. The instructions said I was to leave a gift in the hollow pillar. As I rushed toward the shop, raindrops splattering on me, I searched my bag for something I could leave as a gift.
A bobby pin?
A tube of lip gloss?
And then, my hand struck something. When I had picked up a postcard to send to Nora, I’d purchased an extra one, just in case I made a mistake while writing my note. I pulled it out along with a pen. Once I reached the tiny entrance to the shop, I ducked under the small awning and wrote this on the back of the postcard:
Here’s hoping the magic works!
~ Phoebe
I felt around the right-hand column first, but didn’t find any place that might open to reveal a hollow space. I couldn’t reach all the way to the top, but I figured no one probably could, so it wouldn’t be up there. When I moved to the left-hand column, I found a little latch at the base of the column. It was stuck, though. As I tried to push it open, an old lady wearing a pink hat walked by and asked, “Is everything all right down there?”
“Yes, quite all right,” I replied as I quickly stood up. “I’ve dropped something and I’m trying to find it.”
“Would you like me to help you?”
“No, I can manage. Thank you, though.”
She gave me a strange look. “All right, then. Good luck.”
Once she was gone, I crouched down again and pushed on the latch as hard as I could. This time, it gave way—just a tiny bit at first, and then as I kept at it, more and more. But when I tried to place the postcard into the space, it got stuck on something and wouldn’t go in all the way. It seemed as if there was another object blocking the space, so I poked two fingers in there, and sure enough, the hole wasn’t empty. It felt like a small box, and once I pried the opening a little wider, I was able to pull it out.
A silver box with a gold ribbon wrapped around it! The box was in perfect condition, which made sense, I suppose. It had been stuck inside that hollow column where it was safe from sunlight, air, and even moisture, it seemed. I glanced across the street, at the taxi waiting for me, and I knew no matter how badly I wanted to open it to see what was inside, I’d do it when I got home. As much as I adored Ned and was thankful he was with me, I wanted to open the box in private.
I stuck the postcard into the hole and closed it back up tight. Then I stuffed the little box into my bag before running back to the taxi.
When I plopped down next to Ned, I swept my hair off of my face and let out a big sigh. “To the nearest Tube station,” I told the driver.
He gave a quick nod before he pulled into traffic.
“Did you do what you needed to do?” Ned asked me.
“Yes. I had a bit of trouble opening the tiny latch, that’s why it took so long.”
“I saw that woman stop and talk to you. What’d she say?”
I smiled. “She wondered what in the world I was doing down there, near the ground. I told her I’d dropped something and was trying to find it.”
“Good thinking,” he replied as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
“Ned? Are you all right?”
“I’m tired. And my stomach is starting to hurt again.”
“Oh no. Try and hang on for a little while longer, will you?”
“I wish we had enough money to take this cab all the way home.”
“I know,” I replied, leaning my head back as well. “But we don’t.”
“Too bad.”
“Yep.”
“Phoebe?”
“Hm?”
“What am I going to get my mum for her birthday?”
With a sigh, I responded, “You should have let me get her some tea, Ned. Everyone loves tea.”
“You’ll think of something else, won’t you?”
I didn’t have an answer for that.
Hi, Phoebe,” Mum called out from the kitchen when she heard the front door shut. “Want some lunch? Alice and I already ate, but there’s some soup I can quickly heat up for you.”
“Sure,” I said. “Can you wait like five minutes?”
For some reason, that response must have alarmed her because she appeared before me a moment later. “Everything all right?” she asked, eyeing me up and down.
I smiled. “Fine. I just want to change into some dry clothes. It’s raining and I got wet walking home.”
Relief washed over her face. “Oh, of course. Sure thing. Clean yourself up and then come find me. I’ll sit with you while you eat so I can hear all about your adventure today.” She turned to leave but stopped. “You’re home awfully early, aren’t you? Did you find a gift fairly quickly, then?”
“No,” I grumbled. “Ned got sick. It was horrible. He threw up on the sidewalk.”
Mum’s face scrunched up. “Oh no! I’m so sorry. I hope he’s well enough by Friday to go to the party.”
“Me too,” I replied.
She rubbed my arm. “All right, run along and I’ll see you in a bit.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. Then, of course, I had to run into Alice in the hallway.
“Back already?” she asked.
“Obviously,” was my bratty reply. What was happening to me? She’d turned me into a horrible person.
Horrible!
“Ned wasn’t feeling well,” I said, my voice gentler. “So we had to come back early. I feel so bad for him. Two days in London, and he still doesn’t have a birthday gift for his mum.”
“Time to get creative,” she said as she walked toward her room.
“What are you doing today?” I asked. I wanted to ask if she might like to bake some cookies or something, but the fear of rejection stopped me.
“I sent the package off to Justin,” she said. “I hope he likes it. With that out of the way, I think I might watch the telly this afternoon while I paint my nails. Rainy day activities, you know?”
I waited for her to ask if I might want to join her. But nothing came next.
“What color?”
“Huh?”
“What color are you going to paint your nails?”
This was a running joke of ours. We used to love coming up with funny nail polish colors. Runny Nose Red, Pretty in Parmesan Cheese, and Dandy Dead Dandelions were just a few of the names we’d come up with.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. Probably blue.”
I wanted to make her laugh so badly. It never used to be difficult. In fact, it happened so much, it wasn’t even something I thought about. But here I was, thinking about it, and I knew this was my chance to get a little of the old Alice back. The problem was, when the pressure is on, it’s hard t
o be funny.
“Frozen Toes Blue?” I asked.
She didn’t even crack a smile. Just stared at me and didn’t say a word.
“I was trying to be funny,” I explained. “Don’t you remember? Runny Nose Red?”
She headed off, away from me. “You’re so immature, Phoebe.”
“Well, thanks for asking me to paint my nails with you,” I called out as she went into her room and shut the door. “Really nice of you to think of me.”
I shook my head and told myself to forget about it. After all, I had something more important to worry about. After I went into my room, I shut the door and pulled the box out of my bag. It was so cute. Shiny and silver and, most of all, mysterious.
I had a guess as to who left it there. Sheila had gone around town just as I had, completing the tasks, and she was supposed to leave a gift in the hollow pillar, too. What if it was something valuable? Would I feel guilty about finding it? But of course, if no one else had found it by now, it probably would have sat there for another seventy years.
My hands shook as I unwrapped the bow from the box. And then I slipped the cover off and peered inside.
It was a folded piece of paper. I sat on my bed, opened it, and read what it said.
A poem
written by Sheila Hornbaker
You are my sister,
you are my friend.
Our love and our friendship
are here till the end.
When the sun rises,
I think of you.
When the stars twinkle,
I think of you, too.
There are miles between us
and much to wish for.
But what I wish most of all
is to miss you no more.
I hope you’re home soon,
the place you belong.
Our world is so quiet
without your sweet song.
The poem made my chest ache. There was so much missing in so few words. It was incredibly sweet, and I wondered if Kitty had ever seen it. Did Sheila write it a second time and send it to Kitty? Or did the words simply sit in a small hole, in the hopes the gift would help the magic make Sheila’s wish come true? Most of all, I wondered, did her wish ever come true?
I folded up the letter and put it back in the box, then stuck it between my mattress and box spring, where I’d also hidden the compact. If Alice decided to ransack my room again, I’d doubt she’d tear my bed apart like some first-rate criminal.
My phone vibrated, so I took it out of my pocket.
Ned: What am I going to do?
Me: About what? Why aren’t you sleeping? You need to rest!
Ned: About a gift.
Me: You’re going to stop worrying about it right now and rest.
Ned: I should have had you get some tea.
Me: I know!
Ned: Are you going to the cemetery tomorrow?
Me: I’m not sure. Do you want me to get something for your mum from there?
Ned: Like what, an old skull? I don’t think she’d like that very much, Phoebe.
Me: Go to sleep.
Ned: Zzzzzzzzzz.
I quickly changed my clothes, like I told my mother I’d needed to do, and then, before I had a chance to forget, I wrote this on a yellow index card:
When the sun rises, I think of you—I love that!
After I stuck it on my bulletin board, I went downstairs.
“Oh, good,” Mum said. “Your mulligatawny soup is good and hot. Want some bread and butter to go with it?”
I sat at the table. “Sure. Thanks.”
I stirred my soup around as I thought about the last item I needed to complete for the spell.
“Mum?”
“Yes?”
“What do you know about cemeteries in London?”
“You do realize that’s a very strange question, don’t you?”
I smiled. “I know.”
She handed me the small plate of bread before she sat across from me. “May I ask why you want to know?”
“I was thinking I might want to visit one. Do some headstone rubbings with paper and chalk. I’ve heard of people doing that, and I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“Hm,” she said. “Have you ever heard of the Magnificent Seven cemeteries?”
I shook my head as I nibbled on a piece of bread.
“People used to be buried in small churchyards, but those became very crowded, so they established a number of private cemeteries. I believe they were all created in the early 1840s.”
“Are the seven all over London, then?” I asked as I pondered how I’d ever figure out which cemetery the spell was referring to, exactly. There was no way I could visit all of them just to be sure I went to the right one. It definitely seemed like I might need to use the Internet to help me with this one.
“Yes,” Mum said. “I’ve only been to a couple of them. If you’d like me to take you to one, I’d be happy to. Tomorrow afternoon might be better, since it’s raining now. I work tonight, but could get a little sleep in the morning.”
Just then, Alice appeared. “Do you want to go with us?” I asked my sister.
She reached down and took a piece of bread. “Where are you going?”
“Phoebe thought she might like to do some headstone rubbings tomorrow.”
“Ew. No thank you.” Alice looked at me. “Why in the world would you want to do that? It’s creepy. And immature.”
That was the second time in an hour she’d called me immature. And it bothered me. A lot.
“I’m not immature,” I quipped back. “Why do you keep saying that?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Maybe because it’s true?”
I stood up, tears stinging my eyes. I told myself to keep it together. I couldn’t let her see how much she was getting to me. “Fine. I’ll go to my room so you don’t have to be bothered by my immature self.”
“Phoebe,” Mum said. “You didn’t finish your lunch.” She turned to my sister. “Wasn’t that a little harsh, Alice? She didn’t deserve that.”
Alice went to the sink. “All right, all right, I’m sorry.”
I really wanted to believe her, but I just didn’t.
That night, Dad came in to wish me good night. He took my old stuffed teddy, Nicky, off the shelf and sat on my bed.
“You’ve been awfully quiet since I got home from work,” he said. “I’m a bit worried about you.”
“Everything I say is wrong,” I told him. “So I thought it best that I not say anything at all. It’s easier that way.”
“Pheebs, that’s not true and you know it.” He handed Nicky over, and I tucked him in next to me, under my chin. “Mum said you and Alice had a bit of a row this afternoon.”
I squeezed Nicky tighter. “I’m so tired of it. Of not getting along with her. What am I supposed to do, Dad?”
“Have you tried talking with her? Sitting down and having a heart-to-heart?”
I sighed. “That’d never work. She doesn’t want to talk to me, period.”
“But if you told her you really need to let her know how you feel, she might listen.”
One thing about my dad? He’s always the optimist. Maybe he has to be if he wants to be successful in the antiques business. Every time he goes hunting for new finds, he really believes he’ll discover something good. I suppose if he didn’t believe that, there’d never be any motivation for him to go out and try.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I wish she’d just magically change. I want to wake up tomorrow morning and find the old Alice has returned.”
He smiled as he rubbed my arm. “It’d certainly be nice if life worked like that, wouldn’t it? But I’m sad to tell you, nothing is ever that easy.”
If I could get to the cemetery the next day, hopefully it would be that simple. But I didn’t tell him that.
“Think about what I said, all right?” Dad said as he stood. “Make a nice pot of tea and some scones, and sit down with her. Let
her know how you feel. I’m sure you girls can work things out.”
“She’d probably say scones are immature,” I mumbled.
He gave me a funny look. “What was that?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“Good night, Phoebe. Pleasant dreams.”
“You too.”
After he left, I started to get up and put Nicky back in his spot on the shelf. But I changed my mind. Everything else I’d done that day was immature—might as well keep it up. Besides, he was soft and cuddly. And sometimes, soft and cuddly is just the sort of thing you need to feel better.
The next morning was a different story, however. I did not feel better. In fact, I felt horrible. I woke up early, like six a.m., with a bad stomachache. I tossed and turned for a while, trying to get back to sleep, until I finally got up and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water.
Mum sat at the table eating some toast, still dressed in her scrubs. She’d probably recently gotten home from her shift at the hospital. “You all right, love? It’s so early.”
“My stomach hurts,” I told her.
She came over to me and put her hand to my forehead. “Oh, dear. You feel warm. Let me find the thermometer. Why don’t you go back to bed?”
“Can you bring me a glass of water?” I asked. “I’m thirsty.”
“Yes. Of course. I’ll be there in a minute.”
But for the next few hours, I couldn’t keep anything down, not even water. Finally, the worst passed and I was able to sleep. When I woke up, I looked at the clock, surprised to see it was already four o’clock in the afternoon. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and saw I had a few texts.
Ned: Feeling a bit better today, but Mum said I have to rest. Toast has never tasted so good.
Ned: Any new and wonderful ideas for a gift?
Ned: Hello? Hello? Have you been abducted by aliens? Had a terrible pogo stick accident and taken to hospital? I’m worried. Hope you’re okay.
Me: Guess who’s sick today?
Ned: Oh no! Six lashes with a wet noodle to the poor chap who got you sick.
Me: Not your fault. Hope I’m well enough to come to the party tomorrow.
Ned: Me too! It seems to only be a 24-hour thing, so that’s good.
My door opened, and Mum peeked her head in. “Oh, you’re awake. Feeling better?”
Sealed with a Secret Page 8