Jessie's Ghosts (9 page)

‘Nanna, would
it be okay if I hung this painting on the wall in the hall?’

‘Well, I don’t
see why not. I’ll get a hammer and a hook and we’ll put it up right now if you
like.’

‘Oh,’ said
Jessie.

‘Oh, you still
have some work to do. Well, just let me know when you’ve finished and then
we’ll hang the painting.’

Nanna walked
out of the room and Jessie thought, now what am I going to do? What would Nanna
have said if she’d seen me writing words on the painting? How would I explain
that
?
And how am I going to paint the words on it
without
her seeing them?

‘Nanna,’ she
called, and then thought, no it’s okay, if we hang the painting with the lights
on she won’t see anything. Jessie sighed with relief as Nanna came to the
bedroom door.

‘Yes, love.

‘Oh … it’s
nothing Nanna. I’ll just let you know when I’m finished.

Jessie waited
until Nanna had gone back down the hall in search of a hammer before dipping
the cotton bud back into the tube of green luminescent paint. Slowly she
brought it out and very slowly wrote
You are forgiven
across the top of
the painting. There wasn’t much at the top except sky so it didn’t interfere
with anything else. Then she looked for somewhere to put the second half of her
message.

Jessie decided
to put those words on the path leading down from the front door of the cottage.
She didn’t want to spoil any of the flowers she and Fleur had taken so much
time to paint in all those pretty colours. It really was a pity to ruin the
painting, but Jessie knew that giving her ancestors peace was far more
important. Determined, she dipped her cotton bud back into the tube of paint
and wrote
Be at peace
along the garden path. Jessie stood back and
looked at her writing.

It wasn’t very
neat, and it wasn’t as clear as she would have liked. But she only had a cotton
bud to write with and she was in a hurry. She hated to think what Nanna would
say if she walked in right now.

This would
have to do. And hopefully Harold would be able to read it.

Jessie quickly
turned on the lights and instantly the people in the painting, and the writing,
disappeared.

‘Nanna,’ she called
as she lifted the painting carefully and carried it out into the hallway, ‘I’m
ready to hang the painting now.’

Nanna came
from the kitchen holding a hammer and a picture hook.

‘Where would
you like to hang it, love?’

‘Can we put it
opposite the portrait?’ Jessie asked, looking up at Harold.

Nanna looked
up and down the hall. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather hang it nearer your
room?’

Jessie thought
fast. ‘At Fleur’s house she has paintings on both her hall walls. It looks
great.’

‘Oh, why not?’
Nanna replied, pressing the picture hook into the wall and gently hammering it
in until it was fixed. ‘Do you want to hang the painting yourself?’ she asked.

Jessie lifted
the painting up and then gasped, ‘Oh no, I forgot, there’s no wire at the
back!’

Nanna looked
at the back of the painting and said, ‘We just need some string and a couple of
tacks. I’ll see what I have in the kitchen.’

Jessie shook
her head in frustration. I should have remembered that, she thought, but I was
in such a hurry to get the painting back to Nanna’s. What if the lights
suddenly go out? What will I do?

Oh, I’ll be so
glad when this is all over.

Nanna was back
in no time with a piece of kitchen string and a couple of drawing pins. ‘This
should do the trick - after all, it’s only light, it doesn’t even have a
frame.’

Jessie held
the painting away from herself, with the back towards Nanna as she carefully
pushed in the drawing pins, one on each side of the back of the painting, and
then brought the string around each pin until there was a bit of a loop. ‘Now
it’s right,’ she said.

Jessie smiled
and lifted the painting up until the string was over the picture hook. They
both stood back and Nanna adjusted it slightly so it was straight.

‘Well, that’s
been a good day’s work Jessie. I didn’t know you were all that interested in
art. I’m so glad I introduced you to Fleur.’

‘Me too Nanna,
really
glad.’

CHAPTER 13

Jessie was relieved to be
going to bed, not that she would sleep of course, but she was exhausted from
trying to think of ways to keep Nanna from seeing the message on the painting.
And then she thought about the lights. Nanna would turn them off when she went
to bed.

‘I just need a
glass of water, Nanna,’ Jessie yelled, ‘so I’ll turn off the lights.’

‘All right,
love. I’ll see you in the morning.’

Jessie waited
until Nanna had gone inside her room and part closed the door, before turning
off the lights and going back to her own room. I just hope Nanna doesn’t have
to go to the kitchen during the night, Jessie thought; it’s just as well the
bathroom is in the opposite direction.

Jessie tossed
around from side to side in her bed, unable to stop worrying that Nanna would
need to get up for some reason and see the message on the painting. But everything
remained quiet and finally Jessie’s tiredness won out and she fell asleep.

Some time in
the night she was woken by the familiar voices of Harold and his mother.
Opening her eyes, she quickly adjusted to the darkness and slipped out of bed.
Following the line of moonlight across to her open door she heard,

‘Mother, it was an
accident.’

‘My son, you must
report what happened to the police.’

‘They will send me to
prison.’

‘Harold, you must
speak the truth - for the sake of your father.’

Jessie listened
intently, wondering if Harold would see the message and read it. But the
conversation continued, just like it had every other night.

What was the
problem? she wondered. Couldn’t he see the writing? Maybe it wasn’t clear
enough. Maybe I should have borrowed a brush from Fleur as well. Oh, would this
conversation go on forever? Would she never be able to stay at Nanna’s without
hearing the voices over and over every night. And would Harold never be at
peace?

Jessie sighed
to herself and slipped silently into the hall. Well, at least now she would be
able to see the people in her own painting - maybe they would look a bit
clearer now, in the pitch black.

As she tiptoed
quietly down the hall the conversation continued.

‘You must
go away my son. Leave this place.’

‘And leave
you too?’
Harold
cried
.

Suddenly the
voices stopped. Jessie too stopped in her tracks. Had she disturbed them? Oh,
not again! Not tonight, of all nights! It wasn’t fair!

And then
great-grandmother spoke. Words Jessie had never heard her speak before.

‘Harold, my
son. Do you not see it?’

Jessie
watched, spellbound as Harold turned to face the hallway, and her painting.

‘Harold,
you are forgiven,’
his mother said.

Jessie could
see tears falling from Harold’s eyes.
‘I am at peace, Mother,’
he said,
‘at last I am at peace,
’ and as he turned back to face his mother, they
both became still and the light faded.

Jessie
realised her mouth was open, and very, very dry. And then she looked at her
painting … and slowly her message, the one she had painted only a few hours
ago, faded, one word at a time, until all that was left were two green people.

Relief swept
over her like a huge wave. ‘It worked,’ she said out loud, ‘it really worked!’

She didn’t
know how long she stood there, tears slowly creeping down her cheeks. She
wanted to yell out, to tell everyone what she had done; that she had solved an
ancient family mystery. All by herself.

But she knew
she couldn’t. Ever. No-one would believe her, except Harmony. But then Harmony
would probably forget all about it once she got back to her dad’s. After all
she hadn’t really been that interested. No, it would be her very own secret.
Forever.

And now she’d
be able to leave the painting for Nanna, just like she’d wanted to - with no
luminescent message to worry about.

Slowly she
made her way up the hall to her room as a huge smile spread across her face.
She was felt too excited to sleep, but finally she fell into a pleasant and
dreamless sleep and didn’t wake again until the smell of bacon and eggs came wafting
into her room.

‘Thought I’d
make them for you this morning,’ Nanna said as Jessie wandered into the
kitchen, ‘After all, you’re going home today.’

Jessie’s
stomach wrenched as she realised the truth. How she had dreaded coming to
Nanna’s, and what awful things she had said to Sarah about Nanna. Things were
so different now.

She couldn’t
believe how much fun she’d had. First meeting Fleur, and then Harmony, well at
least using the computer, sending emails, finding information, and the haunted
portrait! Wow. It was one of the best holidays she had ever had.

A horn tooted.

‘I wonder who
that is,’ Nanna said, ‘Sarah’s not due for ages yet.’

Jessie started
on her bacon and eggs as Nanna went out to the front door.

‘Well, look
who I found,’ she said, leading Fleur in.

‘I just wanted
to come and say goodbye to Jessie - I was going to come over later but I’ve
been called up to the gallery for an early meeting. And I wanted to ask you a
favour.’

Jessie stopped
eating and looked up. ‘Me?’

‘Yes, I
wondered if you would mind, terribly, if I took Nanna’s painting to the gallery
and showed it with the others?’

‘The one we
painted?’

‘Yes Jessie.
I’ve been thinking about your interest in the luminescent paints, and it may just
be a way to entice some younger people to the gallery. Maybe I could even run
some classes in the school holidays. Would you mind terribly Jessie? It will
still be Nanna’s - it will just be on loan to the gallery.’

‘That’d be
great,’ Jessie said,

Fleur smiled.
‘And I’ll make sure both our names are on the back of the painting. Then next
time you come to visit Nanna, we’ll have some
real
painting classes.’

Jessie went
over to Fleur and hugged her. This holiday just kept getting better and better,
Jessie thought as Fleur left with the painting and Nanna made a fuss about
Jessie becoming famous.

Sarah’s car
came bounding down the drive an hour or so later. Jessie and Nanna were waiting
for her on the verandah.

‘Well, how was
the holiday?’ she asked.

‘Excellent,’
Jessie replied enthusiastically.

Sarah looked
surprised. ‘Really?’

‘Sarah,’ Nanna
said seriously, ‘you have a very talented, and famous sister.’

‘Really?’ she
said again.

‘Yes, that’s
right. There’s a painting in the gallery in town, with her name on it.’

‘I don’t
believe it,’ Sarah said, laughing, ‘you’ve never painted before. What’s the
story?’

As they all
wandered inside Jessie related the story of her meeting with Fleur and Harmony,
how she had taught Harmony how to use the computer and how Fleur had helped her
paint her very first painting.

She told Sarah
about the luminescent paint and the two green figures that only show up in the
dark. But she left out the bit about the family secret - maybe she’d tell Sarah
later … maybe.

‘Wow, that’s really
great Jess. And what did you call it?’

‘I didn’t
really call it anything,’ she replied absently while an idea was bubbling away
in her head.

‘Well, when
you’ve had a think about it, love,’ said Nanna, ‘You could write to Fleur and
suggest a title. After all, the exhibition isn’t for a few weeks yet.’

Suddenly
Jessie cried, ‘
I
know what I’ll call it.’

Nanna and
Sarah looked expectantly at Jessie as a big smile lit up her face.

‘Jessie’s
Ghosts’.