Bella and the Wandering House (5 page)

And behind him on the wall, a certain photo, in pride of place.

She stood perfectly still, her gaze fixed on the curling letters.

‘Grandad,' she said softly, ‘the wood you used for my room … was it from your boat?'

‘Ah.' In reply, Grandad seemed more to
breathe out than to speak, as if something that had been locked inside him could finally come out. ‘Indeed it was.'

Bella took a step back, remembering how the floor had pitched and swayed beneath her. How she had held out her arms for balance.

It's a bit like being on your boat.

Her own words echoed in her mind. It
wasn't a boat. It was her room. But still …

‘Grandad,' she whispered. ‘I think I have an idea.'

When he replied, she could almost hear the twinkle in his eyes. ‘Do you?' he said quietly. ‘Well, that is a very good thing for a girl to have.'

Bella stood by the window, looking out at the dam. In the moonlight, the surface of the water was dark and still.

Water. Lakes. Dams. A swimming pool. The river.

How had she not seen it before? The way the house paused at every crossroad, as if it was searching for something.

A girl needs the ocean
, Grandad always said.

But wasn't that what a boat needed, too?

Bella reached out and traced the curve of
the letters with her fingertip.

‘I know what you want,' she said. ‘I'll get you there.'

The street directory lay on the floor nearby but she didn't pick it up. It was no good to her all the way out here, beyond the limit of maps. Luckily, she had something better.

She tilted her head and looked up at the ceiling, at the tiny, luminous points dotted across it. Then she turned back to the window, gazing out and up.

You didn't need a road map on a boat. All you needed were the stars.

Orion's Belt. The Big Dipper. Sirius, the Dog Star.

That meant north was straight ahead. Which made west … to the left.

And west meant the ocean.

Beneath her, Bella felt the floor begin to rumble as the house rose to its feet.

‘That way!' She pointed. ‘The ocean is over there.'

Around her, the house seemed to sigh. It took one tentative step and then another.

‘That's right,' Bella said. ‘That's …'

She stopped. The house was turning. It swung to the right, shivering like it was shaking something off. Then it continued straight on.

‘No!' she said. ‘This is north. See? That's Sirius. That means the ocean is this way.
Please … I know what you want.'

Again, the house paused, and for a moment Bella's heart leapt. But then it continued on, and she slumped back against the windowsill. She had been so sure it fit – the wood and the water. The way the house seemed to be searching for something.

She shook her head. It
did
fit. She
was
sure. Whenever she said the word ‘ocean', the house slowed, as if it were listening, as if it were thinking. So why wouldn't it turn? Why wouldn't it do what she said?

She was following the stars. This was her room, her boat. She was guiding it like a captain. She was …

Oh.

She jumped back from the window and hurried to the pegs by the door. It wasn't her school bag she was after this time, or her library bag.

This time, she was looking for something tucked away on the very last peg, beneath an
umbrella, two beach hats and a winter scarf.

Something Mum had told her a hundred times to put away in a drawer because it was
silly to have it hanging there taking up space for no reason
.

Only it wasn't for no reason, because you never knew when something like this would come in handy.

It was a kind of beach hat, Bella supposed, only not like the others. This one wasn't wide and floppy. It was stiff, with a pointed brim and gold piping.

She slipped it onto her head. It was a perfect fit.

She walked back to the window and climbed up onto the sill, curving her back against the wood.

Then she spoke again, her voice ringing out clear and strong. ‘I am the captain of this boat,' she said. ‘And our course is west. That way.'

And no sooner had she spoken than the house stopped in its tracks. The floor rippled
beneath Bella as the house seemed to nod, and then it turned, swinging smoothly to the left. There was no road there but it didn't hesitate. It set off across rolling hills and bushland, picking up speed with every footfall as it strode westward into the night.

For perhaps an hour, Bella led the house on through darkness.

She kept her gaze on the stars, nudging the house this way and then that. A little to the left. A little to the right. Sometimes they had to go around things – bush that was too thick to pass through, a hill too steep to climb.

Once, they came to a large lake. For a moment, the house paused. It began to lower itself, as if it might settle on the bank.

But when Bella whispered, ‘No, not here,' it rose back up. It stood tall and steady, waiting. And when she pointed, it set off again.

At last, they came over a rise to a faint
orange glow on the horizon. More houses began to appear and bush and paddocks gave way to roads and street signs.

Bushy Loop. Gum Tree Way.

Bella read the names softly as they went past. She glanced down at the street directory. These roads would be in there. She could look them up – find the names and the map numbers, flip from one page to the next and trace a careful line for them to follow.

Instead she kept her gaze fixed on the sky. It was the simplest thing, after all – to choose a star and head towards it.

She felt it before she saw it. There was a shift in the air, a soft breeze that tickled in through the window, bringing the smell of salt and seaweed.

‘Almost there,' she breathed.

But the house already knew. Around her, the old wood hummed. The curtains billowed as the house picked up speed, its loping strides lengthening with each spindly step.

Marine Terrace. Ocean View.

Bella's heart raced as they made the last few turns. And then there it was – spread out dark and flat before them.

The house drew back for a moment, as if it were taking a deep breath. Then it stepped down onto the sand. It walked slowly to the water's edge and stopped, staring out at the ocean and the stars that shone in the deep, shimmering blue.

And then it breathed out, the walls and floor rumbling like the long, lazy purr of a cat. It folded one leg across the other and sat down, sinking gently into the sand with a great sigh, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from it.

Bella leaned back against the curve of the window. She could not have said how long they sat there like that. But after a time, she found herself smiling softly. She could hardly wait to tell Grandad. How she had worn his hat and followed the stars.

She looked up at the sky. Orion. Sirius. They didn't seem as bright now. But it wasn't that they were fading. It was that the sky had grown lighter around them. Sunrise was coming.

She pressed a hand to the wood. ‘It's time to go home,' she said softly. ‘You can come back every night if you want. I'll bring you here, I promise. I'll teach you the way. But we have to go home now.'

There was the briefest pause before the house began to rise. It took a last lingering look out at the water and then headed back up the sand.

Bella led it home. She used the map this time, guiding them past houses and shops, all the way to a quiet street with a tiny park on the corner and a curiously empty space in the middle. Where the house nestled its bottom down into the waiting grass at the end of the path, and Bella let her sleepy eyelids droop and then close.

Home.

‘Oh, for heaven's sake!'

‘Where are we this time?'

Bella woke with a start. Why were Mum and Dad yelling again? They were home now, back in their very own yard. She had seen it with her own sleepy eyes.

But when she turned toward the window, there was no tree, no dappled sunlight, no distant smudge of ocean. There was just sky – pale-blue and clear, with the faintest wisp of cloud. And below it … something else?