The House of Secrets Read online

  THE HOUSE OF

  SECRETS

  THE HOUSE OF

  SECRETS

  Casa d ’Amore

  Denise Burdett

  Published by Denise Burdett

  First published 2012

  © 2012 Denise Burdett

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright restricted above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  A CiP record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia

  ISBN: 9780646583112 (pbk.)

  Designed and typeset by Palmer Higgs Pty Ltd

  palmerhiggs.com.au

  Illustrations by Bohdan Burdett

  Cat illustration by Debby Fryer-Talan of Deb’s Designs

  [email protected]

  Distributed by Palmer Higgs Books

  phbooks.com.au

  Thank you to my late husband Ross for all his love and support,

  to my dear parents Dot and Kevin who have made this possible and instilled in me a love of story telling,

  and to Dr Virginia Lowe who motivated and encouraged me through the writing process.

  OFF TO NAN’S

  Dear Diary,

  I hate being twelve! I have no say over my life! Arrgghh! I want to scream. I’m soooo unlucky. I was supposed to help Mum pack today, as we are moving to Nan’s!!!! – but I snuck off to see my friends for one last time. Mum was so cross she went ahead and packed my things anyway. Now I don’t know where anything is. She’s left a small suitcase in my room with some things in it. At least she left my diary and my iPod out. Dad has come over to help us pack and I’m staying out of his way too. Once Mum has fixed Nan’s problems I’m going to nag her everyday until we move back.

  Grrrrr.

  Georgia dropped her diary and pen onto the floor and leaned back against the wall. Her diary knew her better than anyone. She made sure she wrote something in it every night. Georgia rolled the key that hung on the gold chain around her neck, between her fingers. The key didn’t belong to her diary; it was an old key that she had found at her nan’s when she was very little. She had been playing underneath Nan’s large wooden kitchen table when she spotted the key stuck to the bottom of the table with tape. It was a fancy key, with a gold lacework grip. Although Nan had remembered seeing the key before, she couldn’t recall what it belonged to, so gave it to Georgia to keep. Georgia believed the key brought her good luck and wore it everywhere.

  ‘I sure could do with some luck now,’ she thought to herself and tucked it back safely inside her top. She looked around her room. It had lost its cosy friendly feel.

  The walls were faded and marked, except where the posters and pictures had been and where the furniture had butted up against them. Boxes were stacked in the corner, some bulging from being over packed, but all held together with metres of masking tape. The bed was stripped exposing the bare patterned mattress. A sleeping bag, pillow and pair of pyjamas lay neatly at the foot of the bed. Georgia stood up and went over to where her iPod lay, picking it up she lay back on her bed and put her earphones into her ears. The music playing drowned out the noises she didn’t want to hear: Her dad packing – but he wasn’t packing to go to Nan’s. He was packing and leaving her.

  Georgia’s father had moved out of the house ten months earlier. It had all happened very suddenly – too suddenly for Georgia’s liking. Georgia’s thoughts flooded back to the evening that had changed her life forever. It was after dinner. Her parents sat her down and then proceeded to tell her that they both loved her very much, and then whammy – they were separating.

  “You’re getting a divorce?” Georgia had asked – her voice loud with shock.

  “We haven’t decided on that yet,” answered her mother.

  “We’re going to have a trial separation before we make a decision. We both only want what’s best for you Princess,” added her dad. Her father always called her Princess. He only ever called her Georgia if she was in trouble.

  “What’s best for me – then leave everything as it is – us all together!” said Georgia.

  “I know you’re scared Princess, we all are. But your mum and I think we will be much better parents and you’ll have a better life if we live in separate homes. It hasn’t been pleasant around here with all the arguments. It must have been especially unpleasant for you,” explained her father. “That’s why we want to give it a try.”

  “But you haven’t argued in weeks,” said Georgia.

  “No. Not since we made the decision,” explained her mum. Georgia realised that her parents must have planned this for some time. The arguments that had happened in the past months had been replaced with whispered conversations.

  “I’m sure you’ll be happier too, and who knows? Maybe we will get back together,” added her mum.

  “Sure you will, I’ve never been so happy,” said Georgia sarcastically, as she ran from the room slamming her bedroom door behind her. Her father moved out the next day taking only a couple of suitcases and some personal papers. Now he was back with a small van – to pack up the rest of his stuff. So much for maybe we’ll get back together. Georgia knew there wasn’t anything she could do about it, but she wasn’t going to watch or help him leave either.

  “Georgia. Your father’s leaving now, come and say goodbye,” said her mum, as she pulled an earphone out of Georgia’s ear. Georgia knew by the look on her mother’s face that she wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. It was more of a command than an invitation. Her mother was angry with her for taking off with her friends.

  Georgia stood beside her mother in the driveway. They watched as her father placed the last box in the rear of the van, before walking over to them.

  “Pete, I’ll get the removalists to drop off the larger items when they collect my stuff,” said her mum. Her dad smiled and nodded.

  Georgia had to admit her parents got along much better since he’d moved out, and she had done some real cool things with him, like rock wall climbing and going to the footy. But she was still cool towards him. Deep inside she was angry that her family was breaking up.

  “Well Princess, it’s time for me to go. You can call me anytime from Nan’s. You know that don’t you?” said her dad. “You’ll have fun.” Georgia nodded; she’d heard those words before.

  “And I’ll try and get up to see you real soon,” he added. He hugged her firmly, kissing her a couple of times on the cheek. Georgia hugged him back but held back on kissing him for fear she might start to cry.

  She watched as he reversed the van down the driveway. With a toot of the horn and a hand wave out of the window he disappeared down the street. Georgia returned to her room and flopped on her bed. Her life was changing too quickly. Georgia turned her face towards the door as she heard her mother Beth, enter the room.

  “I want you to have your shower now Georgia,” she said as she bent down and gently stroked Georgia’s hair. “I’ve ordered some Chinese take-away for tea. It’ll be delivered in the next half an hour so please be quick. I know moving isn’t easy for you, but arguing with me isn’t going to help.” It was obvious to Georgia that her mum was no longer angry, because she started humming even before she left the room to walk down the hall.

  The following morning Georgia was up and dressed before the removalist truck arrived. She went to the laundry to check on her cat, Turbo. He had been put into a travelling cage earlier that morning to prevent him from hiding or ru
nning away while the removalist was there.

  “Hi Turbo,” Georgia almost sang the words. Turbo was a big grey fluffy cat. He had large blue eyes and his fur was long and soft, similar to a Persian Cat. He communicated with Georgia through his eyes and by meowing. Georgia was sure he could understand everything she said.

  “Sorry about the cage,” she continued. “I think you’ll like Nan’s best out of all of us. She has a big garden for you to explore.” Turbo didn’t appear to be happy. He opened and closed his eyes twice slowly, then tucked his face into his chest, his nose under his front leg and closed his eyes tight. Georgia picked up Turbo’s cage and headed out to the garden.

  She sat down on the wooden bench under a large silver birch tree, placing the cage beside her. Turbo rolled over onto his back exposing his belly to the warm morning sun.

  By now the removalists had arrived. Georgia could hear their voices as they systematically emptied the house, room by room. Their chatter was only interrupted by her mother’s voice, as she gave instructions or enquired after something.

  The removalist truck was huge. Georgia’s mum had got the removalists at a much cheaper rate as she was sharing the truck with another person who was moving to a town not far from Nan’s. The removalists would pick their stuff up next, but drop it off first.

  Before long Georgia was sitting in the front seat of the car beside her mother with Turbo at her feet in his travelling cage.

  “Goodbye my lovely house,” whispered Georgia. She was glad none of her friends had come to say goodbye. Their presence would have made leaving so much harder.

  “You can come back and visit,” said her mum noticing the sad look on Georgia’s face. “You’ll be coming back to visit your father so you’ll be able to catch up with your friends then. Nan needs us now, so we really don’t have much choice.”

  “I know,” said Georgia gloomily.

  Her mum reversed the car out of the driveway, and followed the truck down the street. The truck turned off to pick up the other load and Georgia’s mum continued to the highway.

  “Promise, you won’t cause me or Nan any grief while we sort out her problems. You know Nan can be difficult at the best of times,” pleaded Beth whose relationship with her mother was often strained. Georgia’s mother did her best to please Nan, but Nan was so unpredictable.

  Sometimes she could be so sweet, and other days she would barely talk. One day she’d bake with Georgia, help her do a cross-stitch and even play scrabble. But the next day she would tell Georgia she was too busy. It was as though she was too scared to have fun. Georgia had learned to watch Nan’s eyes to see if she approved of things or not.

  “I promise,” said Georgia rolling her eyes.

  “And that means not being a sad sack; smile, think of it as an extended holiday. Things can’t always stay the way we want them too,” added Beth.

  “I know, I know,” said Georgia repeatedly, trying to sound convincing. Georgia was now used to things changing suddenly without her having a say in it. After all that’s what happened when her dad moved out. She didn’t get to have a say when the trial separation became a permanent separation, nor when her father decided to get a new girlfriend.

  She hated having to leave her friends in her last year of primary school. She liked living here. Geelong had shopping malls and the beach, and there was always lots to do.

  “I’ll get used to it, Beth,” she muttered.

  “It’s ‘Mum’ to you, not Beth,” her mother corrected her.

  Georgia reached over and grabbed a pillow from the pile of belongings stacked on the back seat. She forced a smile at her mum and made herself comfortable so she could sleep. It was a long way to her nan’s property. The car radio could only pick up one station, which made trips like this very boring. The time would pass much quicker if she could get an hour or more of sleep.

  The hum of the car motor and the droning tone of the radio announcer’s voice quickly put her to sleep.

  Sometime later, Georgia stirred and started to wake. She realised the car was slowing down. They were coming into a town.

  “Where are we?” she asked sleepily as she stretched.

  “We’re just coming into Truscott. I thought we’d stop here, have some lunch and stretch our legs,” answered her mum.

  They pulled up in the main street under a huge oak tree. Leaving the windows down a little for Turbo, they locked the car and headed off to find a cafe. They had stopped here before on other trips to Nan’s. At the other end of the town there were modern shops and a shopping centre. But Georgia’s mother always chose to stop at the northern end of town where the buildings were very old and interesting. There were quaint bakeries, coffee shops, and stores with knick- knacks and antiques.

  They decided to have lunch at one of the bakeries. Georgia enjoyed the smell of the shop as much as she did the food. She ordered a peanut butter, banana and honey sandwich, and a chocolate milkshake. After lunch they wandered through a couple of the shops, before making their way back to the car to continue their journey.

  Georgia and her mum chatted for the rest of the trip. Georgia would be going to the same school that her mother had gone to.

  “When I’ve sorted out Nan’s problems I’ll look for a home for us,” said Beth. “We’ll rent for a while and if we both enjoy living in the country, then we’ll look for a house to buy. We won’t be able to buy a house close to Nan, as the property prices are too expensive, but we’ll live close enough to visit daily if we need to.”

  The thought of having to live even temporarily, in Nan’s house gave Georgia the shivers. It wasn’t the house itself; she thought it was a beautiful old home. But at times Georgia got the feeling that she was being watched.

  Sometimes she would be in a room and the air would suddenly become so cold that she could see the faint white mist of her warm breath. When she mentioned it to her mum or nan they’d tell her not to be silly, that she must be imagining things as the house had ducted heating. Georgia often felt that she wasn’t alone. It was kind of eerie. When she was small, she would insist on sleeping with her mother.

  The house was situated on the outskirts of a small village called Collis, in the Dandenong Ranges. Nan’s house had spectacular views of the valley below and all the way to the city of Melbourne. On a clear day you could see the skyscrapers, and at night the lights from the suburbs and the tall buildings looked beautiful. Nan had been born in that house. She would often talk about how she has watched the city spread – like the contents of a pot boiling over on the stove. Now, that same growth was threatening her home and lifestyle.

  “To live in the Dandenong’s has become very trendy Georgia,” her mum explained. “All the land has been bought up and beautiful elaborate homes and mansions have been built all around Nan’s property. The council land rates have soared because of the increase in land and house values. It’s all become too much for Nan.

  “Your grandparents used to own most of the surrounding property. In those days they had stables and yards for the horses. After your grandfather died, Nan had to sell off parcels of the land to make ends meet.”

  “Were the horses and stables still there when you were little, Mum?” asked Georgia.

  “No, the stables and horses were long gone before I even went to school. For some reason my mum hated horses and sold them all not long after my dad died.” Beth stopped talking. She looked as if her thoughts had taken her miles away.

  “Are you okay Mum?” asked Georgia after a few minutes. Her mum glanced over at her and smiled.

  “Yes darling. I was thinking about how different life would’ve been if my father had lived,” answered her mum dreamily. “My memories are all mixed up. It was so long ago, but I’ve always had the feeling that someone else besides my dad is missing. When I was little I used to have a dream about a girl who would play with me, I am not sure if she were real or an imaginary friend. Occasionally I still have that dream. I don’t know why, but for some strange reason I think
it’s her I miss.” Beth shrugged her shoulders then continued to tell Georgia about her nan. Georgia had heard stories before but each time there always a seemed to be some new information.

  Nan had been a very good dressmaker. She had always worked from home and with the income she earned from dressmaking she had managed to hold onto the family home. When Beth had married, she wound down her dressmaking work and only did alterations and repairs. In the past twelve months Nan’s eyesight had begun to fail rapidly and she had to stop her work altogether. The small amount of money she had put aside for her old age was now all gone.

  Nan had always thought she would be able to survive on a pension – but she could not afford the increasing land rates and taxes. She had been advised to sell her home and move into a nice retirement village close by. Nan would hear none of that; she was born in that house and she wanted to stay there until the day she died.

  Although Georgia knew of her nan’s dilemma, her mother asked her not to mention it in Nan’s company. Nan had always said that children should not be concerned about adult business.

  The second part of the journey went very quickly. In no time at all they were driving through Nan’s gates into the long treed driveway.

  “Welcome to your new boring life Georgia,” Georgia said out loud. Her mother glared at her.

  “Enough Georgia – You’ll never be happy with that attitude!”

  SETTLING IN

  The driveway wound around a circular garden. In the middle was a large fountain with a cherub on top holding an urn. Water constantly spilled out of the urn down into the base of the fountain, which was covered in water lilies.

  It was a large property, about the size of ten normal house blocks. The lawns, which were once manicured, were now badly in need of a trim. The weeds were thick, but you could still see the remnants of a once beautiful garden with rose bushes and azaleas everywhere.

  A grand old gazebo stood to the left of the driveway surrounded by the neglected rose bushes. Its paint was peeling and the seats were weathered and rather rickety; Georgia loved to sit in it and image how grand the property must have been in its heyday.