Adam's Thorn (11 page)

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.”

Switching off the light, she
closed the door behind her and set Barney on his feet.  He trotted ahead of her
down the stairs.

Passing the children’s rooms, she
made a face, the thought of all those vacant eyed toys waiting for someone
sending a shiver down her spine.  Hell, if no one wanted to buy the toys, they
were going to the tip.  They were freaking her out.  Especially on a stormy
night.

Feeling a chill now, the cold
creeping up the stairs, she hurried down them, grateful to be away from the
silent rooms now that dusk had fallen.

Downstairs, the lights shone
brightly, and she ensured the hallway light was on as well.

A quick shower and she donned a
nightgown and warmer dressing gown before heading for the kitchen.  Placing the
notepad on the kitchen bench, she fed the cats before warming up a tin of soup
and toasting two slices of bread.  Sitting at the table, she listened to the
rain on the tin roof.

Downstairs was cosy, to a certain
degree, anyway.  Nicer than upstairs, that was for sure, though she supposed
that at one time the house would have been full of life, warm and inviting,
children’s voices calling happily, people bustling through the rooms.

Now, it was empty.  Apart from her
and her two cats.

A creak came from upstairs, no
doubt the wood settling, but it still made her swallow nervously at the thought
of the vacant-eyed dolls in the girl’s room.

Freaky.

Picking up the bowl of soup and
the plate of toast, she headed for the lounge room and the comfort of
television.

However, she couldn’t get the
thought of the photos out of her mind, and picking up the phone, she rang her
parent’s home.  Her sister answered.

“Barbie.”  Melissa sounded
pleased.  “Good to hear you.”

“Thought I’d give you all a
tingle.”

“How’s it going up there in the
wilds?”

Barbie laughed.  “I don’t know
about the wild part, it’s kind of civilized, actually.  Has a police station,
little hospital, ambulance, own fire truck, even a supermarket.”

She didn’t mention Adam.  No way. 
She tried to suppress all the guilt that threatened to flood back.  Having
Melissa on the phone and Adam in town brought back memories.

“Wow,” Melissa said, “progress. 
I’m impressed.”

She forced her attention back on
the conversation.  “The people here even wear real clothes instead of animal
hides.”

“
Really
impressed.”

“Hey, Melissa, do you remember
much about Great Aunt Penny?”

“Not a lot.  I know she was an old
spinster, no kids.”

“What about the house?”

“It’s old?”

Barbie rolled her eyes.  “Apart from
that.”

“Probably haunted,” Melissa
teased.

“I so don’t need that right now. 
It’s dark and stormy.”

“On a dark and stormy night, the
horrors of the Declan house rose from the-”

“Will you shut up?”

Melissa laughed.  “Sorry, couldn’t
help it.”  Sobering, she asked, “What’s up with the house?”

“Nothing, really.  Just it has
kids’ stuff in it, some old photos with no names.  I’m curious.”

“So am I.  Maybe you need to speak
to Dad.  It was his Aunt.”

“Sure.”  Barbie hesitated.  “How
are you going?”

“Fine.”  She could hear the
curiosity in her sister’s voice.  “Why?”

“Nothing.  Just asking.”  And
feeling a streak of guilt.

“Oh, well, we’re all fine.  The
kids are playing Monopoly with Bill, Dad, Mum and me.”

“I’m interrupting.  Sorry.  Just
put Dad on for a few minutes, I promise it won’t take long.”

Her father came on seconds later. 
“Hey, pumpkin.”

“Hi Dad.”

“Everything all right?”

“Just dandy.  I’m just wondering,
Great Aunt Penny…”

“Yes?”

“We didn’t really have much to do
with her.  Do you know why she left the house to me?”

“We’ve been through this already,
pumpkin.  Not a clue.  I’m guessing maybe because she drew your name out of a
hat.”  He laughed.

“Very funny.”  Grinning, Barbie watched
Fred amble across the floor.  “She has some photos here with no names or
anything on them.  If I post them to you, do you think you’d know who the
people are?”

“Well, I could try.  Photos, you
say?”  A lover of historical photos, his voice became eager.  “I don’t suppose
there are any old photo albums around, are there?”

“Could be.  I haven’t checked all
the rooms yet.”

“Send what you can.  I’d come down
to look, but I’m caught up with work.”

“Dad, its fine.  I’ll collect all
the photos I have so far and post them to you on Monday, okay?  Express delivery.” 
She paused.  “I think the PO here does express.”

Her father laughed.  “Pony
express.”

The sound of merriment came in the
distance, making Barbie smiled.  “Sounds like you’re all having fun.”

“The kids are cheating.”

“Then you better go back and sort
them out.”  Bidding her father goodbye, Barbie hung up the phone.

Looking at Fred, who was eyeing
the window, she frowned.  “Don’t even think of hissing at anything.”  More than
aware now of how alone she was, she listened, turning the TV sound low.

Thunder still rumbled in the
distance and rain continued to patter in the roof.  A thud sounded outside, and
she assured herself with a shiver that it was probably a branch being blown off
a tree.  The wind was probably picking up.