Cursed Old House
Were here! Unload yourselves! The driver stopped the lorry near a sagging wooden fence and turned off the engine.
Gently, I nudged my daughter, Poppy, who was fast asleep against my shoulder.
Sweetheart, weve arrived. Open your eyes for me.
Sleepy little Poppy rubbed her eyes with her fist, twisting her head as she tried to see the house.
Mum, is this where were going to live now?
Yes, darling. Come on! Lets get our things out and see whats what.
I jumped down from the tall step and lifted Poppy into my arms. Matthew, who had followed in his own car, appeared from behind the lorry.
Everything alright?
Yes. Where are the keys?
Here you go, my ex-husband handed me a jangling bunch of keys. The house deeds are on the kitchen table. Youll find them. Ill come for Poppy on Saturday, as agreed.
Alright.
Ill help with the bags and then head off. Loads to do.
I nodded. My heart was still twisting itself into knots, but it was clear enoughnothing could be changed now. We just had to keep going. No point dwelling.
Matthew and I had been together five years. A month ago, I found out there was someone else. Not just a meaningless affairit was serious. He was planning a whole new life… a new family.
At first, it was as if I’d slipped into some dim, unrelated world. Yesterday, I had felt securea good home, a husband, safety. Today, poof! All evaporated. Worse, all faith in people vanished too. If the closest person could betray me so bluntly, what to expect from the rest? We had barely arguedeverything was always so calm. Thats why I hadnt noticed a thing.
The news sapped me completely. I became a shell, doing daily chores on autopilotlooking after Poppy, cooking, tidying, workingunable to think an inch ahead.
The flat wed lived in together belonged to Matthews parents. All I really had was my elderly Aunt Lillian living in Oxford, my only family. Since I couldnt visit often, I paid a neighbour to bring her shopping, do her errands, and keep an eye on her. I let out my parents old flat, which came to me by inheritance, and the rent goes half to my account, half into an account for Aunt Lillian. Many times I suggested she swap her old house for a place nearer, but she refused.
Matthew, sure of my quiet temperament, never expected scenes. He only confessed when rumours had made it impossible to hide. I remember him waiting until Poppy fell asleep, then calling me into the kitchen.
I know youre aware. No point making excuses. It just happened. We have Poppy. We need to make sure shes alright. Any thoughts?
I… I dont really know, I mumbled, cupping my hands around a mug, eyes fixed on the kitchen table.
A storm raged insidequestions leaped like mad hares, impossible to focus. But outwardly, I was inscrutable. I didnt want him to see my pain. The hurt was suffocating, and still, he had a pointwe had to think of Poppy.
Perhaps I need to end the lease with the tenants?
No. Im in the wrongfor you and for Poppy. Ive spoken with my parents and… how would you feel about moving?
Where? I met his eyesI suppose, still my husband for now.
Mums cottage in Oxford, the one from her parents. Not newa bit wornbut strong and warm. And Aunt Lil lives just down the lane, doesnt she? Mum wants to sign the place over to you and Poppy. What do you think?
Hush money? I managed a smile, but considered it.
Perhaps it was the best option. Walking round the same streets, risking bumping into Matthew and the new woman held no appeal. Everywhere held old memories. Even a stroll in the local park sent me spiralling into nostalgia for our lives as a family.
Now, I had to think about the future. Mine, and more importantly, Poppys.
What did I have to lose? Oxford was small, but had a good school, a GP, everything close byeven my only relative for support. Poppy still needed constant careMatthew wouldnt look after us like before. Id need to find work.
I nodded, determined.
Alright. Ill do it.
Sorted! Matthew stood up. Mum will ring you tomorrow to set up with the solicitor. Id better go.
He paused at the doorway, and, without looking at me, murmured,
Im sorry. I never meant for it to turn out like this.
I didnt answerjust nodded silently, closed the door behind him, then slid to the floor and, biting on the sleeve of my jumper so I wouldnt wake Poppy, howled.
It wasnt crying, but a kind of keeninga raw, animal sound. As a child, I saw a documentary on wolves. At that moment, I was less a woman, more a wounded she-wolf.
I cried for ages. Afterwards, it was as if all my anger for Matthew had poured out too. I was left empty, scorched. My only thoughtthe one fluttering in my mind like a burned mothwas that I had to find something good to fill this emptiness, or Id sink into despair forever.
The following weeks were tough. I focused on nothing but the move and its demands.
Now here I stood, by the scruffy fence of my new house, looking at the wildly overgrown garden that nearly hid the place. Through the tangled branches, I could only see a fragment of roof and a bit of the verandah.
Poppy tugged my hand.
Mum, why are you just standing there? Lets go!
We walked up the path. Skirting a gnarled old apple tree, I finally saw the house itself.
No, I thought, not just a house*a home*. Weathered, but solid, snug, with a little attic room and a wide front porch decorated with coloured glass. Surrounded by the autumn garden, it looked ready to be photographed. I took out my cameraphotography was my hobbyand took a few shots. Looking at our future home, I felt a surge of hope, the thought that the work needed here was, perhaps, exactly what I needed right now. Poppy stood beside me, mouth open, absentmindedly chewing her finger. With a smile I tugged the bobble on her hat.
Take your finger out of your mouth, love! Surprised by the house?
Muuum, its so pretty!
I think so, too. But lets see inside and decide where youll sleep!
Yes! Lets go!
Climbing the steps, we entered through the verandah. Inside, an airy hallway led to the kitchen and the little sitting rooms. I walked through slowly, thinking where to put what.
The house was small: a kitchen, two rooms downstairs, one in the attic, and a generous dining room with a round table and an ancient lampshade draped with a crocheted shawl. It was damp, probably hadnt been heated in ages, but oddly enough, it already felt cozy to me.
Emily! Everythings unloaded and Ive settled up with the movers, Matthew called from the other room. Come on, Ill show you how the heating works.
He gave me a brisk lesson, then said goodbye.
I wandered into the kitchen.
I put the kettle on and unpacked a few containers to make Poppy some lunch. While the stew heated up, I grabbed my box of cleaning supplies to wipe down the kitchen table.
The kitchen was quaint but homely. Two big sash windows facing the garden. Under one, the table, which I now began to clean. Poppy sat on a chair, legs dangling, quietly exploring the cupboards and the colourful lampshade.
Suddenly, there was a loud smack at the window. Poppy squeaked and I looked up, startled. A huge ginger tomcat sat patting the glass from outside.
Oh, you gave us a fright! I exhaled. Poppy, look at this handsome fellow!
The cat fixed me with an unblinking stare.
Well, arent you bold. You may as well come in if youre so keen. Ill find something to treat you.
The cat leapt down and disappeared from sight.
Our house has gained a guest, I joked. Poppy, wash your hands! Time for lunch.
I turned to the doorway, and there he satinside.
How did you get in? Im sure I shut the door!
The cat said nothingjust gazed at us with those amber eyes, blinking and squinting so fetchingly that, despite everything, I laughed.
I broke off some roast chicken from our lunch, put it on a faded old saucer.
There you go, help yourself!
The cat strutted over and ate, dignified and slow.
I checked the doorseverything was still locked. Then I noticed a small cat-flap, probably ages old, near the back door.
Of course! Our ginger friend knew the way.
Returning to the kitchen, I found Poppy sitting on the floor, earnestly chattering to the cat, who listened, head cocked. For the first time in months, I chuckled.
Oh, you two look thick as thieves!
They both turned to look at mecat and childand for a split second, Id swear the cat shrugged his shoulders right along with her.
Then came a knock at the door. I wagged my finger at Poppy.
Sit tight, Ill get it.
Hello! Im your neighbour, Mrs Goodwinbut call me Auntie Pam. Here, a cheery-faced woman handed me a full milk bottle, fresh from my goat! Good for you!
Ohthats kind! Im Emily. Lovely to meet you! Thank youstill warm, goodness! Do come in.
Auntie Pam bustled in after me as I set the milk by the cooker. Poppy spun round.
Hello! Im Poppy.
Hello, sweetheart. Im Auntie Pam.
Pleased to meet you! Do you know whose cat this is?
Dont I just! Thats my rascal! His names Basil. If he starts eating too much, send him packinghes well fed at home, and he’ll go lazy on me. Cant have him neglecting his mouse duties!
Do you have mice? Poppy looked scandalised.
Of course, deareveryone in the country does in autumn. Youll have them too before long.
Mum, we absolutely must have Basil! I mean, a cat of our own!
I smiled.
Lets wait and see. Auntie Pam, is there anyone local looking for a bit of work? Ill need help clearing the garden, sorting the housetheres only so much I can do.
There certainly is! Go see Mr Michaels up the lanethe green gate, about three houses down. Hes handy with everything and charges fair.
Thank you! Oh, will you have some tea with us? Weve only just moved, but Ive found some biscuits and sweets.
I wouldnt say no! she grinned.
We drank tea as Auntie Pam told tales about the town and her family, then suddenly asked,
So, Emily, how did you end up in this house?
Inherited, I tried to sound casual, forcing away the bitterness. I wasnt eager for sympathy.
Did you know, its been boarded up for nearly twenty years? The young folk dont recall, but us oldies remembernever was a happy house.
Oh dearyoure scaring me! Whats wrong with it? Did something happen?
Nothing to worry over, love! But folk never settled here. A year or two, then off they wentsomeone got ill, lost a loved one, misfortune after misfortune… It all started when a local merchant built it for his bride. She died within a year, and he sold up and left in grief. Since then, well, folk say its cursed. Nearly a century old, this placealtered a couple times, but… no ones ever stayed long.
I twirled my teaspoon, deep in thought.
Thats odd… Well, its mine now. Well see how things go! Were a tough pair, arent we, Poppy? Nobodys scaring us!
Months passed.
I settled in. Poppy started at the local nursery, and I got a job at the photo studio, picking up side work at parties. Photography had been a hobby, but during my pregnancy Id taken coursesand now it paid off. I snapped babies, tried studio shoots, little by little growing my skills.
Gradually, the house and garden came to life. My handy helper, recommended by Auntie Pam, was excellent.
Call me Mike, said the tall, burly man she brought round.
He listened, nodded, and started on the garden. Together, we cleared ancient fruit trees and bramblesenough apple and berry bushes to provide for Poppy for years. Then we fixed the roof, porch, and verandah. It took time, but the work felt worthwhile.
The place breathed again. Each morning, stepping onto the porch with a mug of tea, giving the new banister an affectionate pat, I felt at home. Finally.
I took over caring for Aunt Lillian, dropping in with Poppy every day after nursery. Moving here had been the right choice. Peace returned; I nearly forgave Matthew.
He visited often for Poppyat least he hadnt abandoned her. That helped me reconcile. Things happen; it was pointless to agonise over the whys. I wasnt perfectsometimes I realised Id lost myself in motherhood, neglecting him. Best to give Poppy the security she needed: a mum and dad, even if we didnt live together, who both loved her.
Aunt Lillian agreed:
Quite right, Emily. Dont let grudges sit on your heart. Even a small sorrow, let alone resentment, grows heavy if you carry it too long. Remember the good, let the rest fade. Your daughter needs you bright and full of hope, not weighed down. Thats what shell rememberwhat sort of mother you were now.
I nodded, understanding.
Little by little, I got to know all the neighbours. People started popping roundsome older, some with children so Poppy made friends. I learned to bake bread from Mrs Marsh up the lane; Poppy loved it, and no longer complained when I made her drink milkhand her a piece of fresh crusty loaf, and the milk was gone in a flash.
Soon, I made friends with another neighbour, old Mr Evans. He turned up one day with a huge bowl of the biggest strawberries Id ever seen.
Cambridge Favourite, theyre called. Get settled, and Ill show you how to grow them.
Once wed fixed up the verandah, I set up a big table, cleaned the stained-glass windows, scrubbed the wooden floor. In the corner, I placed a rocking chairPoppys new favourite spot, usually curled up with Basil, our ginger menace, who had, from the first day, decided to reside in both houses. I soon learned to check where I stepped each morning after tripping over a tidy row of mice hed lefthis fee for daily admission, I supposed, although Id have let him in anyway for Poppys sake.
The only neighbour I didnt take to was Mrs Zinnia. She was older, nosy, and couldn’t resist gossip. At first, I didnt notice, but soon I tried every excuse to end her visits quickly, desperate not to hear her latest nastiness.
Auntie Pam, how do I shake her off? I moaned. Honestly, shes relentless!
Emily, theres nothing to be done. You shut the door to her and youll never hear the end of iteven though everyone knows you now. I put her off with my catsshes got allergies!
Maybe I should get a dog…
Mrs Zinnia soon realised my free ears were not as available as she hoped, but was undeterred. I poured her tea and hummed songs to myself while she chatted to the air, not needing any replies.
Eventually, I noticed something peculiar. Each time Zinnia visited, something went awry. First, her new skirt got torn on a rogue nail along the banisterimpossible, since Mike had only just finished and sanded everything with care. The next time, she missed the chair and landed on the floor, despite it being wedged between the table and the wall. Whatever the reasonor perhaps she found a new audienceher visits became less frequent.
One morning, as I trimmed bushes by the gate, I overheard Mrs Zinnia and Auntie Pam talking.
You just dont get it, Pam. She lives alone with her childno man about? Nonsense! Look at the house, the gardensomeone must be coming round. Otherwise, wed have noticed by now.
You daft old bat! You know Mikes been helping. She pays him. What rubbish you talk.
And that house! Everyone knows its cursed! But she just stays on as if nothings wrong. Why? And people flock to hernobody visits me. Whys that?
Because its the person who makes a home, not the house! Emilys good people, thats why. Now be off, Ive milk on the stove!
I quietly slipped away from the gate, amused. Some people!
Moooom! Mum, where are you? Poppy called from the porch.
Here! You awake, washed?
Not yet! Waitlook!
I turned. Down the path, Basil was hauling a tiny, ginger kitten by the scruff, just like himself. He marched up to me, looked me up and down with an air of reproach. I knelt, and Basil carefully deposited the wriggling kitten into my hands, mewling indignantly.
Thank you, Basil! Is that a hint?
The cat mewed gruffly, turned, and stalked off towards Auntie Pams, mission accomplished.
Well, Poppy, perhaps we really do need him. What shall we call him?
Basil!
I lifted the kitten so we were eye to eye:
Welcome, Basil Jr! Come on in, little onestime for breakfast.
Poppy laughed, pushed open the verandah door, and warm air flooded out to greet us.
