Sealed with a Secret

by Lisa Schroeder

  “Is it old?” Chester asked as he peered over Ned’s arm.

  “Yes. From the nineteen-thirties or so,” I said. “Remember the photo and letter I told you about, Ned? This is where I found them. They were tucked inside of it. I believe this compact belonged to Kitty, who received the letter and photo from her sister.”

  Ned’s eyes got big and round. “This belonged to Kitty?”

  “Who’s Kitty?” Chester asked as he loosened his tie a bit.

  Before I could say anything, Ned jumped in and explained about the letter Sheila wrote to Kitty and the magical spell and how we’d been visiting the places mentioned in the letter, just like Sheila had done. He got through it much more quickly than I would have, which was probably a good thing.

  “She has one more place to go and then the spell is complete,” Ned replied. He turned and looked at me. “Right?”

  “Yes. We were going to go yesterday, but then I got sick. Although I have no idea which cemetery is the correct one. My mother said there’s seven around London, and there’s no way I can talk her into going to all of them.”

  Chester hadn’t stopped staring at the compact. I could tell there was something he was trying to sort out.

  “Does the idea of a magic spell bother you, Chester?” I asked him.

  “No. I’m just curious why you’re giving away the compact. It has so much history.” His blue eyes were warm and kind. He seemed to truly be concerned. “Don’t you want to keep it?”

  Before I could answer, Ned jumped in again. “Of course she doesn’t. She wants my mum to have it. She knows it will be well taken care of. Besides, she still has the photo and the letter—those are the important items, right, Pheebs?”

  I swallowed hard and did my best to smile. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  But it was like Chester could see right through me. Now that I was here, thinking about Sheila and Kitty all over again, and wishing and hoping the two sisters had been reunited back in 1941, I couldn’t ignore the niggling feeling any longer.

  I shouldn’t have promised the compact to Ned.

  Mrs. Chapman seemed shocked by the vintage Cartier makeup compact. I think she liked it, but it was sort of hard to tell. “Where in the world did you find this, Ned?” she asked him.

  “It’s a secret,” he replied, looking like a cat that had just swallowed a canary. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? As long as you love it, that’s the important thing.”

  “Well, thank you, dear,” she said. And then she went on and opened another gift. After her birthday presents were all opened, a band came out and some of the adults danced. Ned, Chester, and I continued to sit in the corner talking and eating snacks the waiters brought by every once in a while.

  When I got home, I said good night to my parents and went to my room. I knew something was up when I saw the light on. I found Alice waiting for me at my desk.

  “What are you doing in here?” I asked.

  “Did you have fun at the party?” she asked without looking at me.

  “It was all right.”

  “Did Ned’s mother like her gift?”

  “That’s a silly question. Of course she did. Her son gave it to her. She would have liked anything he gave her.”

  Now she looked at me. And what a look it was—her eyes narrow and her lips pinched tightly together. “Exactly! Which is why you never should have given away that valuable antique. I mean, really, Phoebe. Do I not mean anything to you?”

  It felt like she might never stop beating me up about this. “Alice, I found the thing. Do you not get that? It was mine, to do with as I pleased.”

  “No,” she said, her face red. “Dad sent us out to find antiques for him. You used his money to buy the compact. It wasn’t yours to give away!”

  I sat on my bed in a huff. “But I did give it away, and there’s nothing we can do about it now. It’s done and over with. So please, I’m knackered and I’d like to go to bed now.”

  As she stared at me, probably trying to figure out if she should give up the fight, I wondered how things had gotten even worse than before. For a moment yesterday, it seemed like things were better. Like we’d made it past the worst of whatever we were going through. But now, it was hard to imagine ever getting along with her.

  I felt so sad about it all—like I’d lost something very, very special. Something even more special than a vintage Cartier piece. And that’s when I realized perhaps I was the one who needed to give up the fight.

  “I’m sorry, Alice,” I said softly. “I don’t know what else to say. But I truly am sorry. You’re right, I suppose. I shouldn’t have given it away.”

  She didn’t say anything, just let out a deep sigh before she turned around and left, closing the door behind her.

  I really was exhausted and I knew the best thing to do was to wash my face, brush my teeth, and get ready for bed. But I didn’t move. Instead, I stared at the bulletin board, recalling my little adventures around London with Ned. Had Sheila felt defeated at any point? Did she hit any road bumps along the way? If only I could talk to her, I thought. I needed to know if the magic had worked. Because if it did, then I wouldn’t stop. I would somehow figure out how to visit all seven cemeteries, if that’s what it would take to get close to my sister again.

  And that’s when it hit me. An idea. A big idea. I quietly opened my door and peered down the hallway. It was dark and quiet. It seemed Mum and Dad had gone to their room, which meant it was a fine time to use the computer in Dad’s study. Hopefully, Alice had gone to bed as well. I’d need to be quiet, just in case.

  After I tiptoed down the hall to the study, I opened the door slowly, hoping it wouldn’t creak. It didn’t. Once inside, I shut the door, flipped on the light, and scurried to the computer. Fortunately for me, Dad hadn’t powered it off, so it was only in sleep mode.

  Thanks to the poem I found, I now knew Sheila’s full name. I opened the Internet browser and typed “Sheila Hornbaker” into the search engine box. The first few results didn’t seem to be anything helpful. But at the bottom of the page was something quite interesting. I clicked on the link and found a short article, dated a year ago, in the Blackheath Bugle.

  “Sheila Hornbaker, a resident of Blackheath, has made a large donation toward the Manor House Gardens …”

  I didn’t need to read further. I had exactly what I needed. As of a year ago, Sheila was alive, and she lived in a neighboring borough. I might actually be able to go and visit her!

  The next morning, I woke up and went to the kitchen to make some muffins. The house was quiet. Peaceful. As I dumped the various ingredients into the mixing bowl, I remembered the times Alice had stood next to me, teaching me the correct way to measure the flour or to stir the batter so it didn’t get overmixed. Now, following each step and doing it the “right” way was almost second nature to me. She’d taught me well. I hoped she knew that.

  Dad was up shortly after me since Saturday is often the busiest day at the shop.

  “What are you making?” he asked as he peeked in the bowl.

  “Banana nut muffins.”

  “Is there a special occasion I’m not aware of?”

  “No. I’m just trying to butter you up,” I replied.

  He chuckled. “Ah, the old banana nut muffin butter-up trick. That’s a good one, Pheebs. Clever girl.”

  I scooped the batter into the muffin cups and then popped the pan into the oven. Dad put the kettle on for some tea.

  “Go on then, tell me what’s on your mind,” he said as he took a seat at the table.

  “You don’t want to wait for your breakfast?”

  “I’ll probably take a couple with me. Need to get to work early this morning. Lots to do.”

  I nodded. “All right, then. I have a favor to ask you.”

  “I figured it was something like that.”

  “I think Sheila, or Ms. Hornbaker as I should probably call her, the woman who wrote the letter I found in the makeup compact, is still alive, an
d I’d like to try and find her. I’d love to meet her and return the photograph and letter to her. And I have some questions for her—about the magic spell and her sister, Kitty.”

  “How do you know she’s still alive?” he asked.

  “I found her. On the Internet. As of a year ago, she was living in Blackheath. Can you believe that, Dad? She’s so close to us! I’m hoping she hasn’t moved since then, and you can help me track down her address.”

  Dad stared at me. He truly seemed to be gobsmacked by this news. “You really want to go and see her?”

  “Yes. It’s hard to explain, but I feel a sort of connection to her. Like I know her, but I don’t. And I want to really get to know her, at least a little bit. Does that make sense?”

  “Hm. I’m not sure I really understand the pull you feel, but I suppose there’s no harm in visiting her. If we can find her, that is. Although I’m not going to take you until you tell your mother about the photograph and the letter you found. I saved that bit for you to share with her.”

  “Thanks a lot, Dad,” I said sarcastically.

  He smiled. “No problem.”

  When the timer went off, I pulled the muffins out of the oven. Dad put some tea in a thermos, grabbed a couple of muffins, and was on his way. It wasn’t long before he rang me from the shop’s phone.

  “I think I’ve found Sheila’s address,” he told me. I could hear him tapping on his computer keys. “When would you like to go see her?”

  “Can we go today?” I asked. “Please? When you get home from work?”

  “You certainly are eager, aren’t you? I suppose that will be as good a time as any. Make sure you let your mother know what’s happening before I get home.”

  “I will. Bye, Dad.”

  “Good-bye.”

  It was a while later when Mum woke up. After I’d showered and dressed, I’d placed the photo and the letter at her spot at the table, along with a cup of tea and a plate of muffins.

  “What’s this?” she asked as she picked up the photograph.

  “That was inside the compact I got in Paris,” I said. “Along with the letter that’s there as well. I’d like you to read it, please.”

  She carefully unfolded the piece of stationary and quietly took in the words. When she finished, she looked up at me. “Her sister was sent away during the war. Can you imagine what that must have been like for her parents? For all of them, really?”

  “No,” I said as I sat at the table next to her. “I can’t. It must have been so hard. On everyone.” I swallowed. “I actually have a confession to make. When Ned and I went into London, we weren’t only looking for a birthday gift. I was also visiting the places in the letter.”

  She gave me a funny look. “You were? But why?”

  I took a deep breath. “Because I wanted some of that magic to work on me and my sister. I want to be close with her again, Mum. And I thought if it worked for Sheila and Kitty, it might work for me and Alice, too.”

  “So you lied to me?” she asked, disappointment replacing the confusion.

  “Not really,” I said quietly. “I just didn’t tell you the entire truth.”

  “In my eyes, that’s still lying. I’m not happy about this, Phoebe. You should have told me what you were doing. All of it.”

  “But you might not have let me go,” I said. “And I really wanted the magic to work. Like, you don’t know how badly.”

  She glanced at the letter again. “So this is why you wanted to go to the cemetery.”

  I nodded. “Yes. It’s the only place I haven’t visited.”

  “Is that why you’re showing this to me now? So I’ll take you to the cemetery?”

  “Actually, no. Last night I decided I wanted to see if I could find Sheila. And I did! She lives nearby, in Blackheath. And Dad said we could visit her later today, but only if I told you about the letter.”

  “I see,” she said. “Well, I hope you’ll understand that I can’t, in good conscience, let you go to the cemetery now.”

  I hadn’t expected this. I knew she might be upset with me, but to keep me from completing the spell? How could she do that to me, when I was so close?

  “But, Mum—”

  She didn’t let me finish. “I’m sure you’re disappointed, but my decision is final. There has to be some consequences to your actions, after all. Besides, in my opinion, there are much better ways to get close to your sister. Excuse the blatant suggestion, but have you tried talking to her?”

  “That’s what Dad suggested, too.”

  “Brilliant. I’m happy to hear that we’re on the same page. Does that mean you’ll give it a go?”

  “I already did, and she’s still not happy with me.” I paused as I thought about how everything went down. “Well, things might have been all right for a little while, but then she found out about the compact and that ruined everything. I’m pretty sure at this point, the only thing that’s going to help us is some good old-fashioned magic.”

  Mum took a bite of her muffin. “These are good, Phoebe.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you use any magic to make them?” she asked.

  “What? No. Of course not. I carefully followed a recipe, and did everything that needed to be done.”

  “Hm. Interesting,” she said. “Sometimes doing what needs to be done makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”

  She was trying to make a point. And just the thought of trying to make things right when it came to the compact gave me a stomachache. But I knew something needed to be done. And fast.

  I went to my room and rang Ned. He was probably sleeping, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to get the difficult conversation over with.

  It took a long time, but he finally answered. “Hello?” he said in a very sleepy voice.

  “Ned, I know it’s early and I probably woke you, and I’m sorry. But this is important. Are you listening? Like, are you completely awake?”

  “Hm?”

  “Go splash some cold water on your face.”

  “What? No. I don’t want to. What time is it, anyway?”

  “It’s almost nine. In two days you’ll have to get up early and go to school, you know. This is for the best, waking up now. It won’t be as difficult on Monday.”

  “That’s rubbish,” he said. “It’s going to be very difficult on Monday. So I fancy as much sleep as I can get today, thank you very much.”

  “But this is important, Ned.”

  “Yes. You already told me that.” He grumbled a bit before he said, “All right. I’m sitting up and completely awake. Happy now?”

  “Good. Thank you. Please know this is not easy, but I have to do it.”

  “Do what?”

  I gulped hard. “I have to ask you to return the makeup compact. I wasn’t supposed to give it you.”

  “What do you mean? You said you found it in Paris, so wasn’t it yours to do with as you pleased?”

  “Well … not really. I bought it with Dad’s money. And I was there looking for vintage items because he asked me to do that. And because we were hoping to find some valuable items we might sell to help with some of Alice’s university costs. She’ll get scholarships, of course. But having to travel back and forth between London and America is expensive, and—”

  He didn’t let me finish. “So you should have given it to him.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes. I got caught up in the magic spell and the letter, so I didn’t tell them about it right away. And then I got angry with Alice and offered it to you. I’m sorry, Ned. Do you think if we explain the situation to your mum, she’ll understand?”

  “Actually, we don’t have to do that. We’re coming over later to give it back to you.”

  I sat up straight and tall. “What?”

  “She knew it must be valuable. And she wouldn’t stop bothering me until I told her where I got it. When I told her you gave it to me, she insisted that we return it to its rightful owners. In other words, she knew y
ou’d made a mistake giving it away like you did.”

  “Ned,” I said, a bit annoyed, “why didn’t you say that five minutes ago?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to see you grovel. Such a funny word, isn’t it?”

  “Grovel? Like, beg, you mean?”

  “Yes. For my understanding. And forgiveness.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it! “Ned, you’re mean. Am I supposed to be honored to have your forgiveness?”

  “Absolutely! It was quite annoying to have to find another gift to give my mother.”

  “What’d you come up with?”

  “I drew her a picture of her favorite bird, which is the Eurasian jay. It has brilliant turquoise feathers. And you’ll be happy to know, it turned out splendidly.”

  “See? Everything has sorted itself, then. Alice will get some money for university, I get to meet Sheila Hornbaker, and your mum gets a lovely gift from her son. Well, I suppose I should say, almost everything is sorted. Alice and I still aren’t getting along.”

  “Wait. Phoebe, did you say you get to meet Sheila?”

  “Oh, right. I was so busy groveling I forgot to tell you that bit of good news. Dad thinks he’s found her address, and when he gets home from the shop, we’re going to visit her. Can you believe it? I might actually find out whether or not the magic spell worked. Because right now, it feels like it may be my only hope with my sister. Things have gone from bad to worse with the two of us.”

  “I’ll wish you lots of luck, then. But Pheebs?”

  “Yes?”

  “May I please go back to sleep now?”

  I laughed. “Only if you promise to bring the compact over before lunchtime. I want to have it here when Dad comes home.”

  “Can I stay for lunch?” he asked.

  “Probably not,” I said. “But I made banana muffins. Want to take home a few of those?”

  “Can’t you bring them over now? They’d make a great breakfast.”

  “Nope. See you when you get here.”

  “Fine. Good-bye.”

  After we said our farewells, I grabbed a pink notecard and wrote the following:

  I made a mistake, but it’s not the end of the world. I suppose it hardly ever is.