Aunty Marmalade Read online

  I started to cry out his name again and again. It was hopeless. I felt exhausted and desperate. We were both going to drown. My body almost started to relax as I realised there was nothing I could do to save Biggles or myself.

  My fleece suddenly tugged and I felt like I was being strangled. I fell back on the sand. Next to me was Biggles, panting, sneezing and coughing.

  “Biggles, you’re Ok. Thank God.” I flung my arms around his neck.

  I looked around for whoever it was that had helped us. There was no-one there. Who saved me? A chill ran through me then an enormous sense of relief and thanks. I had had a close shave, and one I never wanted to repeat. But a nagging thought was in my mind that someone helped us but there was no-one on the beach but Biggles and me.

  “Come on Biggles. Let’s go home.”

  Together, we walked slowly back. What would Aunty M say? I knew I’d done the wrong thing in trying to rescue him. I just didn’t think. If anything had happened to him, I’d never forgive myself but I realised, I too, had been in danger and what’s more, I was soaking wet.

  I stuffed my clothes into the washing machine hoping Aunty M wouldn’t notice my wet clothes; harm had been done and the last thing I wanted was for Aunty M to have to get cross with me. Up in my room, I quickly changed and it was then I noticed that the padlock on my diary had been opened.

  Someone read about my secret thoughts. But who?

  Chapter 11

  “Aunty M? Is Apple Jack’s Cottage always so creaky and groany?”

  “Yes darling. It’s because it’s so old, about four hundred years old. The wind whistles through the windows and the floorboards bend and bow. Sometimes I think I’m not the only one living here. I find it quite comforting really. I love this old house. As you know, I’ve lived here most of my life.”

  “Yes, mum told me. Have you ever wanted to be married?”

  “Yes, I did and I did fall in love once.”

  “What was he like?”

  “He was tall and very handsome with a mop of thick black hair. He lived just down the coast road, so I’d known him all my life. We had always been friends and everyone just knew we would marry one day. But things didn’t work out as I planned they would.”

  As I looked at Aunty M I could see her eyes were shiny with tears.

  “Aunty M, I’m sorry I’ve distressed you. I didn’t mean to.” I gently placed my arms around her neck and her arms went around me.

  “What a pair we are. Let’s have a cup of tea.”

  As I sipped my tea, Aunty M looked at me, smiled and asked, “Been swimming recently Flo?”

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you. Biggles got swept out to sea and I sort of went in to rescue him.”

  “Just promise me one thing darling. You won’t do that again.”

  I promised.

  Chapter 12

  The following day I walked to the shops to buy my Girl Talk magazine and buy a pint of milk so Aunty M could make some custard to have with the apple pie she made that morning. It was a lovely day and I felt quite cheerful, but my mind was full of unanswered questions. I felt my life was turning upside down. I wanted to ask Aunty M to answer my questions but it all seemed too personal. It was awful to see her look so desolate when I asked her about being married. She might not even know what had happened all those years ago and even if she did, she might not want to tell me or get involved.

  I got my comic and the milk and as I walked out of the shop, I turned left to walk home. As I continued on my way, I looked in the dress shop window because they always had lovely beads and stuff and I saw a gorgeous hair band. It had little beads and seashells on it. I looked for the price but the label was the wrong way up. I decided to go in and ask how much it was. A bell rang as I went in.

  “Can I help you?” asked the lady behind the counter.

  The hair band was quite cheap and the lady gave it to me to have a closer look. As I took it, I held it up to the light and as I did, I noticed someone on the other side of the road. For a second, I thought I could just see my reflection in the glass. She had long ginger hair just like mine. It was long and loose. She had her back to me so I couldn’t see her face. Then as I stared, she slowly turned to face me. To my horror, I was looking at myself. I blinked and when I blinked, she wasn’t there. I was sure I had seen someone identical to myself but who was she?

  “I’m sorry,” I spluttered to the lady I quickly handed the hair band back to her and ran out of the shop. I stared up and down the road. Nothing. No-one even remotely like me was walking about. Think. Think. It must have been my reflection after all but the clothes weren’t the same. I was wearing jeans, converses and a white tee shirt with a green cardigan. The girl was wearing a white dress and white plimsolls. It could have been a girl, my age that looked similar to me. Lots of girls have red hair. That must be it. You’re not going mad. There is always an explanation for things like this. I heard dad say it a hundred times when magicians were on the TV. He would even go on to explain how the trick was done. Apparently, he’d had a magic set when he was a little boy so he felt he was a bit of an expert.

  I walked back to Apple Jack’s Cottage. My list of unusual happenings was increasing day by day. My best friend, Eloise wouldn’t believe a word of all of this. Not surprising really because I didn’t believe it myself.

  That afternoon, I went back up to the attic. Aunty M was busy painting and I knew I had to amuse myself. I was used to that. I decided to try on one of the dresses and hats on the clothes rack. I pulled the dress over my head. It was far too long and big. I put on some matching shoes and hat and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked really funny and old fashioned. I trotted down to the sofa in the high heels. I couldn’t imagine ever being able to walk in shoes like this. They were so uncomfortable.

  I opened a drawer in the old wooden bureau just to see what was in there. I found a tiny blue leather ring box and lifted the lid. Inside was the most beautiful engagement ring-- a blue stone in the middle with diamonds surrounding it. Perhaps it was Aunty M’s. I glanced into the drawer again. There was a pile of letters tied up in a pink bow. Love letters. How romantic was that. She kept her letters from the man she loved and the ring too.

  As I put the ring back, I noticed a long box. I took it out and took the lid off. Once again, like the wedding dress box, it was lined with black tissue paper. I carefully separated the tissue and found two baby dresses the sort you see at a christening. They were identical and long. They had ribbons and lace on them and each dress had a matching bonnet, the sort you see on Victorian dolls with ribbon ties. I wondered if these beautiful dresses belonged to the twins in the photo. That meant if I was one of the twins, I had worn one of these dresses.

  “I’m so confused,” I said aloud. “What happened to the other twin? Where is she now? Why was I never told? I must have a sister, a twin sister. Why is it such a secret?”

  Desperation filled me. Then I thought, perhaps it isn’t me in the photo after all and I just look like the baby in the photo. Babies do sort of look the same. That must be it. Yeah, I just look like that baby. Dad would have told me even if mum wouldn’t. He’s always so honest that he’s bound to have told me. Even though he treats me like a baby most of the time, he’d never keep something like this from me. Why would he? No reason I could think of. Why do grown ups have so many secrets?

  I took off the clothes and went to find Aunty M. She had finished painting and was making the custard. There was a gorgeous smell of apples and custard and chicken.

  “Hi. Yummy I’m starving Aunty M. You’re the best cook ever.”

  “I hardly think so sweetie pie, but I do enjoy cooking and it’s lovely to cook for someone else. Usually I just cook for myself.”

  That night my room was full of moonlight. It was a clear night and the inky black sky was dotted with millions of sparkling stars. Eerie shadows danced around my room as the cool night breeze, as always, tickled my curtains. Above me in the attic, a drawer shut so
violently that my bed vibrated. I had definitely heard the noise that time. I did not imagine it; I knew I hadn’t. I pulled the covers up under my eyes and waited breathless for the next noise but there was nothing. I had to find out. I had to know what was going on in the attic. I climbed the steps. I pulled the ring in the hatch. The hatch swung down. I stuck my head up through the hole. Then everything went black.

  Chapter 13

  “Oh my God, Florence what happened? Are you alright?”

  I was lying on the bedroom floor. My head hurt and so did my back.

  “I’m not sure. I must have fallen out of bed.”

  ‘Can you move your legs?’

  I could; although I felt stiff and very shaken. Aunty Marmalade helped me up.

  “I heard a terrible crash Florence. If I hadn’t you could have been here all night.”

  “I’ve fallen out of bed before Aunty M. Mum says my bed looks like I’ve been wrestling gorillas. She goes mad with me. She says I ought to try to lie still but you can’t help what you do when you’re asleep can you?”

  “Don’t worry about mum, for goodness sake. As long as you are alright and there is no damage to you; she need never know. Now back to bed and we’ll see how you are in the morning.”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit shaky. Aunty M?”

  “Yes, my darling?”

  “Do you ever hear funny noises?”

  “What sort of noises, darling?” asked Aunty M as she plumped up the feathers in my duvet.

  “Sort of thumps and bumps and moans. That sort of thing.”

  “Of course. It’s the wind. It makes the most awful noises. Even I get spooked sometimes.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes I do. I’m a real ninny aren’t I?”

  “No you’re not. You’re the best, Aunty M. See you in the morning.”

  As Aunty M walked out, I tried to think back to when I got to the hatch. As it fell down it must have knocked me. Yeah, it was so dark that must be it. I lost my footing and fell back. I was lucky I didn’t break anything or worse. I looked towards the hatch. It was closed. I couldn’t have closed it so someone must have. Aunty M would have seen the open hatch if it was open. Then she would have known that I was going up to the attic. As I drifted off to sleep I heard, very faintly, but definitely, the sound of someone calling out my name.

  Chapter14

  The following morning I was certainly bruised, but apart from that, there was no other permanent damage. Aunty M was busy packing her two pictures ready for the Arts and Crafts Show.

  “We’ll have to go to the Village Hall later to hang these up ready for the exhibition tomorrow. I do hope they sell. It’s always exciting when you sell paintings.”

  “They are bound to be sold because they are so good,” I said and I meant it. These two paintings were the best I had seen so far, not quite so colourful, more realistic.

  “Let’s hope you’re right, darling.”

  Anty M had a good place for her pictures just inside the entrance. I continued to look around at all the other stuff on show. There were lots of stupid pictures which were so badly painted I thought I could do better myself. Aunty M said a lot of what was on show was pretty dreadful, but that the exhibition gave lots of pleasure to lots of people and that was all that mattered. Some were so bad I could hardly imagine who would get pleasure from them. Some of them just gave me the giggles and I had to pretend I had a coughing fit so as not to get into trouble for being rude.

  One of the last paintings on show was a small little oil painting of two girls. They were wearing identical clothes. Long white frilly dresses, bonnets and both were carrying parasols. It was a Victorian scene and quite well painted. As I looked more closely, I noticed a house in the background. It was just the same as Apple Jack’s Cottage. The faces on the girls were not clear but they were the same height with long red hair.

  “Aunty M there’s a picture over here will you come and see?”

  “Which picture is that, dear?”

  I led her over to the painting.

  “How extraordinary. That painting is of your great, great grandmother and her sister. It was up in the attic years ago and it must have got muddled up with the jumble I put together the last time I went up there. Mind you, that was quite a while ago. I wonder who is exhibiting it?”

  Aunty M shuffled off to the organiser to try to find out.

  “How very odd they said the painting is down as mine, but I didn’t put it in the exhibition. There is no price on it so it won’t be sold. I’m pleased about that it would be a shame to lose it out of the family. We can take it home after the show ends. I think I better put it up on the wall to keep it safe from now on. I wonder who would have bought it and then given it back to me. I must say it’s a very kind person. Wish I knew, I’d like to thank them.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, “it is odd but sort of kind too.”

  Something was niggling at me. Perhaps the painting had been given back for a purpose to bring it sort of ‘home.’ It could have been ‘stolen back.’

  “Do you think we ought to take it now just in case there’s been a mistake and it shouldn’t be here?”

  “I think you might be right Florence. It’s in my name and it shouldn’t be here anyway. I’ll take it now.”

  Aunty M took down the painting put it in her basket and covered it with her cardigan.

  Later that evening, the painting was hanging on a nail on the sitting room wall. The two little girls were back home, I thought. It was all mysterious how it came about. Funny the painting had been in the attic and because of that not missed. A picture of two little girls back together at home where they belong.

  Later that evening, even though I was aching a bit from my bruises, I climbed the steps to the attic. I wanted to see if I could work out which drawer I heard slam the night before. I pulled myself up and what I saw shocked me.

  The wedding dress was on the dummy with the coronet balanced on the top. The christening robes were laid across the top of the chest of drawers with the bonnets on top. Photos of my mother’s first wedding were strewn around the floor. Photos of me and the other baby were there too, on the floor, but there was more. The baby photos were cut in half so the twins were separated. It was horrible. Who would do such a thing? I realised this was a sign; a sign to show that the twins had been separated. They were not together now or maybe not ever.

  I thought about the painting. It had been retrieved from wherever it had been sold, to bring it back to where it belonged. Twins need to be together, back home together. That’s why twins are so close. I heard that identical twins often think the same, talk the same and have the same thoughts. Well if I was a twin perhaps my twin was trying to reach me. Perhaps this was why all these strange things had happened to me since I came to Apple Jack’s Cottage. I decided there and then to wait for the next sign and this time I would try to make contact. I sat down on the sofa and thought.

  There were strange things happening here, sure there were, but sometimes at home, odd things happened too. I’d never thought about it before, but I never really felt lonely or alone. I had always put it down to being an ‘only child.’ When you are an ‘only child’ you have to sort of amuse yourself because there is no-one else there. In R.E lessons, my teacher talked about ‘guardian angels’ and I thought what a cool idea that would be to have one. You know, someone looking out for you, protecting you so you don’t come to harm. As I sat there, I remembered the day I got out of dad’s car and just walked into the road without checking first. A car shot pass just in front of me nearly knocking me down, but I missed it by a whisker. I always thought my ‘guardian angel’ saved me. Perhaps she had. Maybe she really did ‘exist.’

  The more I thought about it, the more I remembered other things that happened to me that I couldn’t explain. I always felt like I was sharing my thoughts with someone else. That could be the reason I talked to myself. Yes, that could be it. I wasn’t going dotty, I was sharing my thoughts and
fears and good times with ‘someone else’. Then there was the other day in the sea. I felt my fleece tug and suddenly, I was on the beach.

  I put the wedding dress and coronet back in the box. I placed the christening robes back too and gently closed the drawer. It must have been this drawer I heard slam last night. I put all the photos back in the album. I fitted the cut photos back together on the sticky paper. I shut the album with a bang.

  “There you are. Everything sorted and back in its place. You can’t scare me, whoever you are.”

  With that, I put my foot on the top step and climbed down into my room. I lay on my bed flicking through my Girl Talk magazine. There was a bit about working as an air stewardess. It was really interesting and I decided it would be something I would like to do.

  “Florence come quickly. Granny is on the phone,” called Aunty M from downstairs.

  “Coming,” I called back.

  “Hello, Granny. Yes, I’m fine. Yes, I’m being good. No, I’m not missing mum and dad. Ok see you tomorrow. Bye.”

  “So we have visitors tomorrow Florence. Well that’ll be nice won’t it?”

  “Yes, I haven’t seen granny for ages,” I replied.

  I was a bit surprised. I knew granny didn’t come to visit Aunty M too often because she always said it was too far to drive. I wondered what she wanted and what made her decide she had to come all this way.

  Chapter 15

  There was a beep on the horn and Aunty M and I knew granny had arrived. I ran out to meet her and she gave me one of her famous air kisses. She always smelled of the same flowery perfume and it was sort of comforting as it made me think of when I was little when granny looked after me quite often.

  “Darling Florence. It is good to see you. You’re looking very well I must say. Madeleine there you are. My goodness you too. You do look well. How are you?”