Jessie's Ghosts (5 page)
What accident?
And who was Gwyn? Jessie didn’t understand any of this.
The
photographs! Maybe there was a photograph of Gwyn. She remembered the albums
were still on the kitchen table.
Jessie slipped
out of bed again and pulled on her dressing gown and slippers before walking down
the hall to the kitchen. As she passed the portrait she saw that
great-grandmother and Harold were back in their original places; as if they had
never moved.
Jessie gasped,
and then took a deep breath.
‘I don’t know
what this is all about,’ she whispered, ‘But I’m going to find out.’
Stumbling over chairs in
the dark, Jessie finally located the light switch and sat down at the kitchen
table. She pulled the albums towards her and slowly turned the pages of the first.
These photos
were mostly of her great-grandparents on their wedding day, and some of her
grandfather as a baby. The next album had photographs of her grandfather
growing up with his younger brother Harold.
But the third
album was the one she was looking for. Her grandfather and his brother were
older now, perhaps teenagers Jessie decided. As she turned the pages she saw
her grandfather in pictures with her grandmother, and the caption read ‘Fred
and Ruth’, but there didn’t seem to be any other women in the photographs. She
kept turning until she came to more photos of their wedding day.
The caption
below the photograph read:
Frederick and Gwynneth Marshall, June 10, 1951.
‘Gwynneth?’
Jessie said, ‘but that’s Nanna.’
How confusing
was this? Nanna’s name was Ruth. Why was she called Gwynneth in the photo?
‘Nanna, who is
Gwynneth?’ Jessie asked as the next morning she scooped rich yellow yolk out of
an egg cup and laid it on her toast.
Nanna laughed
and said, ‘Why, that’s my real name, Jessie.’
‘But your name
is Ruth,’ Jessie protested.
‘Yes, that’s
right too, love. I was never happy with the name Gwynneth – as a child I found
it very hard to pronounce, and at school I could never spell it. Ruth is my
middle name, so I just told everyone my name was Ruth and that’s what I’ve been
called ever since.’
‘Oh.’
‘How did you
find out my name was Gwynneth?’
‘I heard … I
mean it was written under one of the photos in the albums.’ Phew.
‘Oh, of
course. I’d forgotten about that, it was such a long time ago. At weddings you
always have to use your real name, so on my wedding day I was Gwynneth.’
‘Mmm.’
‘Well, are you
going over to see Harmony?’
Later, she
thought. But right now she needed time to think.
‘I might go
for a walk first … to look at the animals.’
‘Just watch
out for Daisy, the big cow. She can get pretty irritable with strangers.’
Away from the
house Jessie found a big old tree with lots of leafy branches and sat down in
the soft green grass beneath it. She pulled a notebook and pen out of her
pocket and started to write. Considering how late it had been last night and
how frightened and tired she had been, Jessie was surprised at how much of the
portrait conversation she actually remembered.
First she wrote
that Harold had said it was an accident and that he would go to prison if he
told the police. Alongside this fact Jessie wrote:
What accident?
Then she wrote
that Harold said it was his father’s fault this had all happened. Alongside
that she wrote:
Why was it his father’s fault?
Finally she
wrote that Harold said he loved Gwynneth and could not live without her. Well,
at least Jessie now knew who Gwynneth was and that she was engaged to be
married to Fred - pop - at the time.
Why then would Harold say he loved her?
Now that she
had the facts straight, she needed answers. Would Nanna know the answers? There
was only one way to find out. But she would need to be really careful about
what she asked, or Nanna would wonder where she got her information.
Nanna had said
that pop had hidden the portrait in the loft - maybe she could start with that.
She packed up her notebook and pen and brushed herself off. Daisy was grazing
close to the house and mooed loudly at Jessie as she walked by. Jessie could
just make out a sweet little black and white calf standing behind Daisy. She
would have loved to pat the calf but knew Daisy would never allow it. She was
just being protective.
Seeing this
made Jessie think about Sarah and then she realised she hadn’t been thinking
about Sarah, or home, at all. This holiday wasn’t turning out to be too bad
after all.
‘Can I ask you
something?’ Jessie said as she bounced into the kitchen. Nanna was sitting at
the table, sorting through different coloured wools, a partly knitted striped
scarf over her knees.
‘Of course,
love.’
Jessie took a
seat opposite Nanna. ‘Remember when I asked you about the portrait and you said
you had found it in the loft and that you thought pop had hidden it up there?
Nanna nodded
as she took up her knitting needles and they began to click.
‘Well, why do
you suppose he never brought it down and hung it?’
Nanna’s face
became serious and she put down her knitting.
‘Why do you
ask, Jessie?’
Now she was
stumped. She couldn’t tell Nanna about it being haunted, could she?
‘Well … it’s
just that you said pop’s brother Harold disappeared … and I wondered, well it’s
a bit of a mystery, isn’t it, and I wondered if Harold had anything to do with
it?’
Nanna’s face
became serious. She didn’t say anything, just sat there looking at Jessie. She
could see that Nanna was thinking it over, while she was almost bursting with
anticipation. She so wanted to know about pop’s brother - it might help her
solve the mystery of the haunted portrait.
‘Oh, Nanna,
can’t you please tell me?’
Finally Nanna
spoke. ‘Well, Jessie, it’s been a kind of secret in the family for many, many
years,’ she took a deep breath, ‘but I suppose it doesn’t really matter any
more. According to your pop, his brother Harold was … well, he was … very fond
of me.’
‘Of you?’
‘Yes. Well,
that’s what Fred told me, although I find it hard to believe. Harold was so
much younger than me. Anyway, Harold went up into the loft late one night, and their
father - your great-grandfather - followed Harold up the ladder, to talk to
him. Fred said they had a discussion about me. Apparently Harold was going to
try to steal me away from him - even though we were engaged to be married at
the time.’
That’s what
the conversation had been about! Jessie couldn’t take her eyes off Nanna as she
continued.
‘Your
great-grandfather started to argue with Harold. I imagine he told him he was
being ridiculous, that I was already promised to his brother. But no matter, an
argument started and became fairly heated. Harold apparently pushed his father
and he fell, all the way down the ladder, and well …’
Jessie gasped.
‘Did he die?’
‘Yes, Jessie,
he died. Right there in the hallway,’ Nanna said, pointing towards the portrait,
‘Just about where the portrait is hanging’.
A shiver raced
down Jessie’s back.
She thought
back to last night; to the glow and the voices. This certainly explained a few
things.
‘Jessie, are
you all right? I probably shouldn’t have told you.’
Jessie snapped
out of her thoughts. ‘No, that’s okay Nanna. I was just thinking … about how
awful it must have been for … everyone.’
‘Yes, well it
was. And then Harold just disappeared, and nobody ever saw him again. It’s certainly
a sad tale. And I would never have brought that portrait down but the time just
seemed right, somehow. I thought it would be nice having your pop up there on
the wall.’
‘It is,
Nanna.’
‘Well now, are
you going over to see Harmony?’
‘Yep, right now.
And I was wondering … I haven’t said anything to her yet, but would it be okay
if she stayed over tonight?’
‘Of course,
sweetie. ‘I’m pleased you two are getting along so well now. She wasn’t quite
as bad as you first thought?’
‘Well, she’s
not easy to get along with, but I thought she might enjoy being somewhere else
for a night.’
Nanna smiled.
‘I so enjoy Fleur’s company, its wonderful having her as a neighbour. They
can’t be too different if they’re mother and daughter, can they?’
Jessie rolled
her eyes. ‘You’d be surprised.’
‘You’re so
like your mum, Jessie, and I really miss her.’
Nanna’s eyes
started to mist over and Jessie was determined hers wouldn’t do the same.
Then Nanna
brightened and said, ‘Well, you just have a good time with Harmony and come
home when you feel like it.’
Jessie kissed
Nanna and said, ‘Thanks Nanna. I’m having a great time.’
Nanna smiled
as Jessie turned and headed out the door, the screen door swinging shut behind
her.
Well, Jessie
thought as she walked across the property towards Fleur’s house, the
conversation I heard between Harold and his mother was because he pushed his
father down the stairs - that’s why he couldn’t tell the police, or he would go
to prison. His mother said he should go away, and, well, he must have.
And the
portrait is in the exact same place where great-grandfather died. So, it makes
sense now, why they were saying what they were saying.
But why are
they still saying it now, after all these years?
Jessie could
feel an excitement all through her body. A haunted painting. Unbelievable. And
it was up to her to make the voices go away. But how?
And although
she wasn’t all that enthusiastic about having Harmony stay the night, she
needed someone else to see what she had seen, she just needed to know it had all
actually happened.
Fleur was in the garden
with her easel when Jessie arrived, painting what looked to Jessie like a
house. Maybe it was Fleur’s house, she thought, surrounded by orange and pink
flowers. It was still hard to tell with Fleur’s paintings because there was so
much
colour and the shapes of the object weren’t very clear. Sometimes Jessie
thought they were flowers and they were actually people.
‘It’s such a
beautiful day out here again, Jessie. These are gerberas’, Fleur said.
‘Gerberas are a bit like big daisies, only they are much more vibrant in
colour. Do you like them?’
‘They’re
pretty,’ Jessie said, proud to think she had actually picked them as flowers.
‘Harmony went
for a ride on my bike earlier, but she should be home any minute. You just go
in and make yourself comfortable.’
As Jessie
expected there was another email from Katie, saying how sorry she was Jessie
wasn’t with them on the Coast.
This time Jessie
happily replied that she was really enjoying staying with Nanna and that she’d
learned a lot about an old family mystery. She couldn’t say much but the
mystery involved a portrait of her great-grandparents. Jessie ended her email
with
‘Maybe next holiday you could come to the farm with me - there’s heaps
to do here and Fleur is a really good artist. And Harmony is okay too, we’ve
been doing stuff on the computer. I’ll see you at school next week.’
As soon as the
Internet was up and running Jessie Googled the word ‘ghosts’.
Just then
Harmony came into the room, glanced at the computer screen and sat down next to
Jessie.
‘So, what
happened?’ she asked.
Jessie turned
to her. Today she had coloured her eyelids a really dark blue colour and Jessie
noticed she had repainted her fingernails, again, dark blue this time to match
her eyes. She really must be bored, Jessie thought, if she has to paint her
nails every day.
‘Well,’ Jessie
said, ‘That portrait is definitely haunted. But please don’t tell your mum, I
have a feeling my Nanna doesn’t want people to know.’
‘As if I would
ever tell my mother anything,’ Harmony said as she rolled her eyes.
Jessie looked
at her curiously and then continued. ‘Well, my grandfather’s brother Harold had
an argument with his father one night. They were up in the loft and Harold
pushed his father and he fell down the ladder and died, right there on the
floor.
‘Wow, dead,
right there in the hall! Cool.’
‘So now I know
why
the portrait is haunted but I don’t know
how
to stop it. Okay
if I do some research on the Internet?’
‘Sure. I’ll
watch, maybe I’ll learn something.’
Jessie’s
search had brought up thousands of websites. Next she typed in ‘ghosts and
hauntings’ but there were even more entries. But she decided to scroll down the
page a bit to see if anything in particular stood out.
