The Locket of Dreams (11 page)

‘Who are you?’ asked Charlotte, directing the question towards the fireplace. ‘Are you a kindly spirit? Are you a guardian angel, as my sister said, or a malevolent ghost sent to trouble us?’

Charlotte obviously could no longer see Sophie but could somehow still sense her presence.

‘I’m a friend,’ answered Sophie softly, but she could not tell if Charlotte could hear her.

Sophie felt woozy and exhausted and desperately needed to sleep after the strain of her exertions. She floated gently off the bed, up towards the ceiling, then up into the cloudy dark sky way above and up, up to her own snug bed at Nonnie’s apartment.

Charlotte was left sitting on the bed wondering if she might have been dreaming. Yet when she checked, she could clearly see the charred remains of the cane in the grate. Had she seen a ghost or an angel or a fairy sprite? Whatever it was, Charlotte was very grateful she had appeared.

It was late when Sophie finally awoke the next morning. The sun blazed through the window, revealing a deep-blue sky. Jess’s bed was empty and Sophie could hear the muted hum of voices from the kitchen. Sophie stretched long and hard, her muscles stiff and sore.

A feeling of great sadness washed over her as she remembered the deaths of Alexander and Eliza and baby James. What a terrible thing for Charlotte and Nell to experience: the loss of all their family. Sophie thought of her own mother and father and little Will. What if she lost her own family?

At last she climbed out of bed and padded to the window, cradling the gold locket in her hand. Outside was a stately gum tree, its strong branches reaching for the sky. Its bark was streaked white and grey and brown and red, its leaves silvery-green against the sky. A cheeky kookaburra sat on a branch and laughed at her, its familiar chortle echoing through the garden.

The bushy green suburbs rolled away below, and in the far distance she could see the sparkling blue smudge of the harbour and the glittering office towers of Sydney. Nonnie’s apartment seemed a million miles away from the misty lochs and rolling heather of Scotland in the 1850s.

Sophie shook herself mentally, carefully placed the locket in the carved wooden box and headed to the bathroom for a long hot shower, images of Charlotte Mackenzie and Dungorm rolling through her head.

Did Charlotte really throw the Star of Serendib in the loch? How did she manage to get back the locket from Aunt Arabella? How did Charlotte and Nell come to escape awful Aunt Arabella and Uncle Roderick, and come out to Australia all alone?

‘Good morning, darling,’ Nonnie greeted Sophie as she entered the kitchen. ‘You had such a long sleep, I thought you might be ill. Your mum rang this morning to talk to you both, but she said she’d ring back later this morning.’

Nonnie, as usual, was dressed immaculately, in a tweed suit, pearl brooch, stockings and high-heeled pumps, her mouth slicked with red lipstick, her hair styled and curled. Sophie smiled wanly and gave her grandmother a good morning hug and kiss.

‘Mum said that Sammy is really missing us,’ Jess added, bouncing over to the table. ‘She’s been sleeping curled up at Mum’s feet and keeps getting up to check our room to see if we’re home yet. Will checked under our doonas this morning, sure that we
must
be home by now.’

Sophie smiled to think of their big black dog and baby brother, Will, searching the house looking for them. She missed Sammy too, and the cats and Mum and Dad and Will, now that she thought about it, but there hadn’t been
much room for thoughts of home lately.

Sophie helped herself to a piece of toast, while Nonnie made her some tea. Tea was something they were rarely allowed to drink at home, but Nonnie always made them a milky cup with breakfast, served in a pretty china teacup and saucer.

‘Thanks, Nonnie,’ Sophie said, and smiled.

The phone rang just then and Nonnie suggested that Sophie answer it, as it was probably her mother.

‘Hi, darling,’ came her mother’s cheery, familiar voice. ‘How are you? Are you feeling all right? Nonnie said you slept for hours this morning and that you’ve been very quiet the last few days.’

‘No, I’m fine, Mum,’ replied Sophie. ‘Just tired. It’s been a busy term at school.’

‘I know, but if you aren’t feeling well you can always come home. Are you worrying about changing schools?’

‘Mum, I said I’m fine,’ reiterated Sophie firmly. ‘I’m not worrying about school or anything else.’

‘Now, I hope you and Jess aren’t fighting, are you? Remember, you promised me?’

Sophie paused, thinking guiltily of the whispered battle she and Jess had had over the washing-up last night.

‘No, Mum,’ responded Sophie. ‘We’re not fighting. Well, not really. How’s Dad? How’s Will?’

‘Will’s fine, up to his usual mischief,’ replied Sophie’s mum. ‘Your father’s a little better the last couple of days, I think. He took Will for a walk in the pram this morning, it’s such a gorgeous day.’

‘That’s good,’ Sophie replied. ‘I hope Dad is feeling better. How’s work?’

Sophie’s mum chattered on about the latest news from home.

‘Mum, Nonnie showed us a beautiful old box which belonged to her great-grandmother Charlotte Mackenzie,’ Sophie offered.

‘Mmmm, I remember the one. There was some intriguing mystery about my great-great-grandmother. I’ve forgotten what it was all about – wicked uncles and stolen inheritances, I think. Now, darling, I’m sorry I have to go, but I’ve heaps of work to do.’

‘That’s okay, Mum,’ replied Sophie, disappointed that her mother had no light to shed on the box.

‘I’ll see you next week. I can’t wait. I’m really missing you both dreadfully; so are Daddy and Will. It’s far too quiet around here without you!’

‘Miss you too, Mum.’

‘I love you, darling. Don’t forget to call me and I’ll come and get you if you want to come home.’

‘No, it’s fine, Mum.’ Sophie paused and thought about Charlotte and Eliza, and that terrible night when Eliza had died with baby Alexander.

‘I love you too, Mum,’ Sophie finished, with a choke in her voice. ‘Look after yourself and baby Will.’

Her mother sounded puzzled. ‘I’ll try, sweetie. Bye.’

‘Bye, Mum.’

Sophie hung up and went back to the table. Her toast was cold and she found she had no appetite for it after all. She pushed it away and sipped on her tea, listening to Jess and Nonnie chat about the plans for the day: a long walk, a trip to the park and some shopping in the afternoon.

‘You didn’t eat your toast, Sophie,’ said Nonnie with concern. ‘Would you like a fresh piece?’

‘No thanks, Nonnie,’ replied Sophie hurriedly, clearing the table. ‘I’m not really hungry this morning.’

Nonnie looked a bit worried but said nothing more.

It was with a great feeling of trepidation that Sophie prepared for bed that night after dinner. She waited until Jessica was out of the room, then surreptitiously put the heavy gold locket around her neck, and climbed under the covers.

She tried to read her book, but the words danced maddeningly in front of her eyes and her thoughts kept drifting to another time and place, a more exciting time and place: a land of rolling mist, steel-grey lochs and emerald hills.
How did the girls come to leave Dungorm? Why were they sent to Australia?

In a moment, Sophie could see them. A thick bank of mist rolled in from the sea, blanketing the loch and swirling around the old castle keep of Dungorm. Black-faced highland sheep dotted the deep-green hills. Grey smoke drifted from the golden chimneys of the great house of Dungorm. Sophie swooped towards the house, heading to the windows of the schoolroom on the upper floor.

Sophie found Charlotte and Nell downstairs at the dining table. They were dressed in what looked like their Sunday best – white woollen mourning dresses with ruffled petticoats below, thick black stockings and buttoned-up boots – and their hair was tied neatly back with white velvet ribbons.

Roddy wore a white-and-navy sailor suit, with a jaunty tie and wide square lapels to his collar. He was currently kicking Nell under the table trying to make her cry out. Nell ignored him. Aunt Arabella sat opposite, with Uncle Roderick at the head of the table carving the beef.

A serving maid passed around a platter of potatoes while another served the buttered carrots and boiled cabbage. When the food was served and the servants had retired, Uncle Roderick said grace and everyone began to eat.

Uncle Roderick chewed his mouthful of beef and gravy, swallowed and cleared his throat loudly.

‘Charlotte and Eleanor, I have some important news to share with you,’ Uncle Roderick announced, glancing quickly at his wife, who nodded sagely.

‘Some time ago, your aunt and I received a letter from a relative of your mother’s, a certain Mrs McLaughlin, who currently resides in the colony of New South Wales.’

Sophie held her breath. This must be it: this was the Australian connection.

Charlotte and Nell glanced at each other. Annie McLaughlin was Eliza’s cousin who had migrated to Australia fourteen years before with her husband. Eliza and Annie had been very close friends all their lives and had regularly written letters to each other after their separation.

Eliza had often read them interesting snippets of Annie’s letters describing life in that faraway country of Australia. Charlotte wondered why Uncle Roderick was interested in Eliza’s cousin, Annie McLaughlin.

‘Mrs McLaughlin wrote to say that she had thought of your mother as a sister, so if there was anything she could
do for you girls, we should let her know,’ Uncle Roderick continued chattily, however he did not meet the girls’ eyes.

‘Consequently, I wrote to her several months ago to see if she would consent to have you girls go and live with her and her family.’

Sophie sighed. Charlotte breathed in sharply, hardly believing her ears. Uncle Roderick could not be serious.

‘We received a reply last week agreeing to the suggestion, and have written to Mrs McLaughlin telling her to expect you on the next ship to Australia,’ Uncle Roderick continued calmly, helping himself to another pile of potatoes.

‘Your berths are booked on a clipper called
Commodore Perry
which leaves Liverpool in two weeks. I have informed the servants to prepare your things for the journey, so I expect your full co-operation.’

Uncle Roderick resumed eating his roast beef. Aunt Arabella smiled triumphantly at her husband, then at the girls. Roddy gave Charlotte a sharp kick under the table and grinned at her, poking out his tongue.

Charlotte’s mind whirled, refusing to absorb this earth-shattering news. Nell sat silently, tears streaming down her face.

‘But – but Uncle,’ stuttered Charlotte. ‘We have never even met Mrs McLaughlin or her family. They live thousands of miles away, on the other side of the earth. We cannot possibly go and live with them.’

Charlotte swallowed a huge lump in her throat, fighting the tears that threatened to spill, trying to keep her tone calm and reasonable. ‘Dungorm is our home. Dungorm was our parents’ home,’ she continued, her voice breaking. ‘Please do not send us away.’

‘Now, Charlotte, stop making such a fuss,’ Uncle Roderick huffed in annoyance. ‘It’s all decided, the tickets booked and paid for. The letter has been sent to Mrs McLaughlin letting her know when to expect you, and I have arranged for money to be sent for your upkeep. It cannot be changed now.’

Aunt Arabella nodded vehemently. ‘It is impossible for you to stay here,’ she added. ‘My poor nerves cannot cope with so many children in the house. It is too much work and worry.’

Charlotte thought in disbelief of the army of servants at Dungorm whose sole purpose in life was to make sure that Aunt Arabella never had to lift a finger, even to dress herself.

‘My poor cousin Miss Crowe barely lasted a week and had to leave, her nerves completely shot,’ Aunt Arabella continued forcefully. ‘Apparently you girls frightened her with some nonsense about ghosts in the house.’

Sophie caused the candles in the centre of the table to sputter.

Charlotte and Nell glanced at the candles, then at each other, remembering the horrible Miss Crowe packing her bags in hysterics and demanding to be conveyed at once to the nearest railway station.

‘Besides, your uncle and I find this country life far too quiet, so we plan to move back to Edinburgh, and our house there is too small for extra children.’

‘We could stay here,’ Charlotte began eagerly. ‘Nanny and Cook could look after us. We would be fine.’

Nell nodded hopefully, her eyes round and wide. Uncle Roderick scowled and thumped the table with his flattened palm, making the crystal glasses chink.

‘That is enough, Charlotte,’ he roared. ‘It’s far too expensive to keep staff on in an unused house. Of course we will let most of the staff go, and just bring in servants when we return for the autumn hunting season.

‘Now, if you have finished your meal,’ he continued, forcing himself to be calm, ‘you may go and start planning what to take. Your trunks must be packed ready to go by the end of this week.’

Charlotte stood up, her fists clenched. Nell rose slowly to her feet.

‘You cannot do this,’ shouted Charlotte, staring at her aunt and uncle in disbelief. She wanted to shake Uncle Roderick, shake him until he changed his mind. ‘We are not going. Dungorm is our home. Just because you burnt my father’s will does not mean you can turn us out. You cannot send us away.’

‘Charlotte,
enough
,’ roared Uncle Roderick. ‘What nonsense. How dare you suggest I burnt your father’s will. There was no will, but that makes no difference. I am the laird of Dungorm now. You are just children.
I
am your legal guardian and
I
decide what is best for you both. Now, go to your room before I call Wilson to drag you.’

Without a word, Charlotte stormed from the room and up the stairs, Nell running behind her. Through the open door of their bedroom, they heard a familiar voice raised in indignation.

It was Sally the chambermaid.

‘It is criminal, that’s wha’ it is,’ Sally objected. ‘Those wee precious bairns bein’ sent to the other side o’ the world to that horrible place in New South Wales, just so he can take their home and fortune.’