The Lost Sapphire (13 page)

Riversleigh, modern day

Marli parked her bike against the stone wall and went upstairs to knock on the door of Luca's flat. The last few days it had been raining, so the two had spent hours researching old newspapers on the internet and exploring various websites that had revealed grainy photographs of Riversleigh and Hamilton's Glove factory, snippets from social pages and gossip columns, and news reports of the house being given away. The local historical societies had websites with interviews from old residents who had worked at the glove factory and Ramsay's tannery.

Luca and Marli had caught a tram to Victoria Street in Richmond to see the old red-brick building that had once been the glove factory and was now the slick offices of an advertising agency. They had made copious notes about the Hamilton family from what Didi had told them, their internet research and the material they had found in the
scrapbook. They had also made popcorn, watched old movies and played endless card games. It had been fun.

Today was sunny again, so the two planned another adventure into the Riversleigh gardens. Marli had borrowed her dad's camera again, but she hadn't told him what for. She felt it should be a secret – a secret between Luca and her.

Luca came out and the two headed for the old blue double doors in the wall that led into the garden. Both of them looked around surreptitiously to make sure that no-one was watching before they pulled open the door and slid through. Marli locked the crossbar behind them. It was dark in the garage. Luca used the torch on his phone to light their way, stumbling through the piles of junk. Marli pulled an old hammer off the wall.

They stepped through the double doors at the other end of the garage and out into the rampant beauty of the sun-filled garden. White butterflies danced above the rose garden. The fairy wren swooped and flitted through the golden air, chasing his tiny brown mate. Hidden bellbirds tinkled their chimes from the shrubbery.

‘It's so beautiful, but it looks so unloved,' Marli said with a sigh.

Marli pulled out her dad's camera from her backpack and shot off some photographs of the house, the garden and the garage.

‘My grandfather would be horrified,' Luca said. ‘I was thinking that we could do some tidying up in the garden. I might be able to borrow Nonno's brush-cutter and mow through the long grass. Then we won't have to worry about snakes.'

Marli imagined what the gardens could be like with some care. ‘That's a brilliant idea. And we could get rid of some weeds – I feel sorry for those beautiful roses all choked up.'

Luca nodded. ‘It could be a project to do while we research the family.'

Marli looked towards the old house, with its boarded-up windows and peeling paint. ‘What do you think?' she asked, swinging the hammer in her hand. ‘Shall we explore? Maybe we can find a way inside the house.'

Luca looked at the hammer in dismay. ‘You mean break in? What if someone hears us? What if they call the police?'

Around her neck, Marli was wearing the old-fashioned key on its threadbare velvet ribbon that she'd found in Violet's hatbox. She held it up by its ornate bow. ‘No, we shouldn't need to break in. I've got the key, and I'm sure it must open one of the doors.'

The first door they tried was the huge, arched front door. Luca used the hammer to carefully prise away the plywood hoarding, revealing a cracked cedar door with a huge iron lion's head knocker. It had clear glass in the middle panels and ruby glass in the sidelights and fanlight above. Marli's hands were trembling with excitement as she tried the large iron key in the lock. The key slid in, but when Marli tried to turn it, the lock wouldn't budge.

‘It doesn't work,' Marli complained.

‘Let me try,' Luca offered. ‘Maybe it's just stiff.' But Luca couldn't unlock the door either.

‘We'll try the side door and the French doors on the terrace,' Marli suggested. They carefully removed the
hoarding one by one from these doors as well, but the key didn't open any of them.

‘It's no use,' Luca said. ‘The key could be for anything.'

‘I felt so sure that it would open a door at Riversleigh,' Marli said.

The two prowled around the house, checking every potential opening. They peeled away the corners of several boards, but all the windows on the ground floor were locked and there was no way to reach the second-storey windows. At last they came to the back service door, which opened onto the old stable courtyard on the southern side.

‘It's the last door,' Marli said hopefully.

‘Let's give it a go.'

Luca used the hammer to pull back each corner of the plywood board where it was nailed into the doorframe. The top left-hand side was difficult to loosen, and he had to tug extra hard. The board came away suddenly, smashing down on him. The unexpected weight proved too much and he dropped the board. It clattered loudly onto the stone paving beside him, followed by the hammer.

‘
Ow
,' Luca yelled, pulling a pained face.

‘Shhh,' Marli reproved. ‘Someone might hear you.'

‘
Sor-ry
.' Luca checked his arm. There was a long, red graze oozing blood.

Marli was contrite. ‘Are you okay?'

‘Just try the key,' Luca snapped, rubbing his arm.

Marli took a deep breath and slid the key into the lock. It wouldn't budge.

‘It's not the right key,' Marli cried, slumping down onto the brick step. ‘It doesn't open
anything
.'

Luca leaned against the wall, then he noticed a small wooden hatch at waist height, near the servants' entrance. He pulled the knob and the hatch opened to reveal a cavity with a matching door further inside. He leaned through and pushed, and the door swung open.

Luca turned to Marli. ‘It's an old service hatch. We have one in our apartment. Nonno says deliverymen used it to leave milk or groceries. Do you think you could squeeze through? There's no way I'd fit.'

It was a very narrow gap.

Marli hesitated, feeling uncertain now that there really was a chance to get inside. She tucked the key on its ribbon back inside her shirt. ‘I'll give it a go. Let's hope I don't get stuck halfway like Winnie the Pooh.'

Marli took a deep breath and exhaled, then squirmed her way in headfirst. For a moment she felt claustrophobic and had visions of getting jammed. But she kept wriggling through until she tumbled onto the hard floor.

It was dark inside, with the only light coming through the open hatch. The house seemed to creak and groan around her. Something scuttled across her leg. Marli screamed in fright. She pulled out her phone to use as a torch and scanned around, searching for the creature. Her eyes strained to see into the shadows, but there was nothing. Marli shuddered with disgust.

‘Are you all right?' Luca peered through the hatch.

‘Yes. Something crawled on me. I think it was a rat.' Marli stood up, her throat dry with nerves, and stroked the bangle on her wrist for reassurance. She wiped her dirty hands on the back of her jeans. ‘I'll see if I can find a way for you to get in.'

Using the phone's torch, Marli groped around, looking for a bolt or a latch that she could undo, one that might open the door from the inside. The lock remained firmly fastened. She scanned around, checking for scuttling creatures, hoping for inspiration. Then she saw it. There was a hook on the wall with an iron key hanging from it.

Please be the key to the back door
. Marli's fingers were slick with sweat as the key stuck for a moment and then turned, grating noisily in the lock. Marli crumpled with relief as she threw open the back door and let Luca in. Lovely light poured in, chasing away the shadows.

They gazed around with anticipation. They were in a narrow corridor, painted a drab grey. Off the corridor were a number of small rooms with empty shelves and battered benchtops, which appeared to be pantries, the scullery and laundry, and a large empty room with windows looking out on the old kitchen garden. Luca flicked a light switch but nothing happened.

‘This must have been the servants' sitting room,' Marli suggested.

The dust made Luca cough violently. They moved into the large kitchen, with its stone floor, wide stove and laminate counters covered in grime. The kitchen door on the far side was protected by thick green felt that was stained and torn. The door creaked open as Marli pushed it.

On the other side, everything was different – grander, more spacious. The ceilings were higher with ornate cornices, the floorboards wider and the rooms large with marble fireplaces.

Yet the signs of neglect were everywhere – damp black stains, thick layers of dust, peeling paint, spiders' webs and
cracked plaster. Ugly fluorescent bar lights had replaced the original crystal chandeliers. The fireplaces were blocked with painted plywood. One of the front rooms had been partitioned into two with flimsy fibreboard. Marli snapped photographs of the rooms, taking close-ups of architectural details, such as the plaster cornices, old servants' bell levers, mantelpieces and arched windows.

At the very back of the house was a huge room with parquet floors. Light filtered in through the French doors where the hoarding had been pulled away. A massive chandelier, veiled in cobwebs, hung in the centre of the room.

‘The ballroom,' said Marli, twirling away across the floor. ‘There must have been some wonderful parties in here.'

‘This room is nearly as big as our whole apartment,' Luca observed.

The pair crept up the carpeted main staircase. On the landing was a locked panelled door.

‘That must lead to the tower,' Marli suggested. ‘What a shame we can't open it.'

‘It must have an amazing view from the top,' Luca said.

They kept going, exploring the various empty bedrooms on the second floor – the five large family bedrooms with graceful arched windows overlooking the gardens, and their associated dressing rooms and bathrooms. A dead bird lay in the grate of one of the fireplaces. A colonnaded verandah ran across the front of the house, thick with dead leaves.

Towards the far end of this level, a low door led through to the maids' quarters, with three cramped bedrooms.
From here, a narrow and very steep set of servants' stairs went down towards the kitchen.

Marli led the way down the dark stairs by the dim light of her phone, clinging onto the banister with one hand as the steps creaked and groaned beneath her. She put her weight onto a tread and realised too late that the timber was rotten. Her boot crashed through the splintered wood. Luca grabbed her arm and hauled her back up. Marli's heart thudded with fright.

‘That was close,' Luca said. He shone his own phone-torch down the stairwell. ‘We'd better go back the other way. A few of those steps look nasty.'

Marli hobbled to the main grand staircase and stood on the landing looking down.

‘This house is incredible,' she said. ‘It has such a mysterious feeling about it.'

‘There are so many secrets about the place,' Luca added. ‘Why do you think Violet's father gave the house away? What happened to her mother? And why is the tower door locked?'

Marli unconsciously fiddled with the old key hanging around her neck. Suddenly she had a brainwave and swung around, excited. ‘The tower. The key.' She pulled the ribbon over her head. ‘I bet this key opens the tower.'

The two ran to the locked tower door. With trembling fingers, Marli inserted the key into the lock. For a moment, the key stuck fast, then it turned with a loud click. Marli pushed the door open.

It was like stepping into a different time. The square room was furnished with a white painted desk and chair, photographs in silver frames, a faded blue velvet armchair,
a bookcase and a side table piled with tattered old books. To the right a narrow spiral staircase led up to the tower room above.

Marli picked up a photograph from the desk and blew on it, sending dust motes billowing into the air. Luca coughed.

‘Sorry,' Marli said, patting him on the back. ‘Look. These must be Violet's two brothers – the ones who died in the war. They look so young. Just teenagers, like us.'

Luca recovered his breath. ‘It must have been tough for the family. I can't believe that this room has been locked all these years. Maybe the tower is haunted, and that's why it's kept locked up!'

Marli looked around and shivered. ‘Well, if it is haunted, it can't be a very nasty ghost. The room's too pretty.'

Luca laughed, which made him cough again.

The two climbed the stairs to the upper room. It was clearly an old artist's studio. Dried-up oil paints and pots of brushes sat on a small table. Paintings were stacked against the walls. An easel, displaying an unfinished painting of flowers, stood in the middle of the room. The dirt-streaked windows on all four sides overlooked the river and gardens.

A ladder led up to a trapdoor, which opened to give access to a rooftop terrace. Luca was right – the view was breathtaking. They could see Luca's place next door, Nonno's vegetable garden, the green-brown snake of the Yarra River, Marli's dad's apartment building in Richmond on the other side, all the way to the silver skyscrapers of Melbourne. A trio of yellow-tailed black cockatoos flapped past, cawing raucously to each other.

Marli's phone beeped. She quickly checked the screen, realising that she had stopped obsessively checking her phone for messages from her friends back home. She had been too busy herself to worry about what they were doing.

But the text wasn't from any of her friends. It was from Dad.

Marli scowled at the text.

‘Anything wrong?' asked Luca.

‘Dad's going to be late again.' She smiled at Luca, trying to lift her mood. ‘He's had dramas at work so he's been working really long hours, but he did say he was going to try to get home early tonight.'