The Orion Ghost

By Olivia Rogers

“The Orion Ghost” is a fast paced adventure story. Twelve year old Jennifer and her twin siblings Jack and Claire fly to the Atlantic coast of France to spend their summer holiday in a rambling chateau with their artist Aunt Isabelle. When they meet two French children and their dog, who live in an ancient nearby lighthouse, their adventures begin. They discover an old map and a huge, ancient key hidden in the pocket of an 18th century greatcoat.
The children set out to decode the map and search for treasure hidden by the original owners of the chateau who were forced to flee from Paris at the time of the French Revolution. While unravelling the 18th century mystery, the children are unwittingly caught up in another much more dangerous one. Will Jennifer find out the identity of the ghostly girl who has haunted her since her arrival in France? Will the children escape from the clutches of a gang of criminals? And why does the star constellation of Orion seem to be guiding all their actions?

About the author

Olivia Rogers grew up in Australia. She now lives in London and the Atlantic coast of France where “The Orion Ghost” is set. She has previously published text books for college students and is currently writing the next Jennifer Jeffries adventure which is set in Paris France.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Olivia Rogers
• Release date: Feb 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465777614

Olivia Rogers

About the authorOlivia Rogers grew up in Australia. She now lives in London and the Atlantic coast of France where “The Orion Ghost” is set. She has previously published text books for college students and is currently writing the next Jennifer Jeffries adventure which is set in Paris France.

Book preview

The Orion Ghost a Jennifer Jefferies Mystery

Copyright 2012 Olivia Rogers

Smashwords Edition

The right of Olivia Rogers to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the author.

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The Orion Ghost - a Jennifer Jefferies Mystery is a work of fiction.

All characters and events in this publication, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners.

Illustration Elly Sindall

Layout Vic Rogers

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For Thomas Joseph Sindall

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CHAPTER 1

The twins were really enjoying themselves. The summer holiday had been pretty boring so far and watching their mother and big sister Jennifer do battle over the kitchen table was quite entertaining. Claire and Jack sat at the far end of a long wooden table with their chessboard in front of them grinning at each other.

Jennifer stood on one side of the table, her red hair flying everywhere and her cheeks blazing. Their mother stood opposite, staring at Jennifer and holding a porcelain sugar bowl that had begun to look like a potential weapon. She had started to clear the table after lunch when the argument had begun, slowly at first but now, to the twins’ delight, they were witnessing a full-blown slanging match!

Claire moved a chess piece and whispered, mate to Jack. Her mother and sister glared at her.

School finished two weeks ago, snorted Jenny, and what do we have to look forward to? Nothing! It’s stinking hot in London and I’M BORED!

Don’t be so selfish Jennifer. You know how important dad’s new job is. The London Olympics is no ordinary architectural event. He really cannot spare the time to go on holiday this year.

Oh that’s just great! So, when the English teacher sets the first essay of the term which is bound to be My Summer Holiday, because, as we all know, English teachers have no imagination and always set the same subject, I’m just going to say – I DIDN’T HAVE ONE!

Check, said Jack and pulled a face at Claire.

Oh do calm down, Jennifer. Lots of children don’t go away on holiday. We could take the train to Brighton next week and have a day at the beach. Some children never see the beach!

Next year more likely! You’re always too busy working on that stupid fashion magazine to spare us any time. And who wants to go by train! It’s so humiliating being the only girl at school whose parents don’t have a car!

Your dad explained all that when we moved to central London, Jennifer. A car is unnecessary in Islington and it’s environmentally unfriendly. We can get anywhere we want by tube, bus or taxi. Just think of all those petrol guzzling 4 x 4s that your friends’ parents drive. They go round the block to school or the shops and drive to a tube station! Are they all scared of a little exercise? Anyone would think they were living in Africa and travelling huge distances. Urban rhino hunters, that’s what they are! DON’T THEY CARE ABOUT THE PLANET?

Jennifer glared at her mother from behind her piercing green eyes. She knew she had a point but didn’t fancy losing the argument. Her mother put the sugar bowl down on the table and wiped her brow. In truth they were both a little surprised at how passionate their argument had become. The tension in the room was palpable and the twins held their breath for the next round.

What if we wanted to go on holiday? asked Jenny quietly. She was a little subdued by her mother’s outburst about the planet.

We could take the tube to Heathrow Airport.

And what if we wanted to go to Devon or Cornwall, like all my new school friends are doing? Jenny had a peculiar glint in her eye, a sort of I’ve got you now, kind of glint. The twins had seen it and hung on to the table expecting the explosion that was to come.

Then we would hire a car.

Oh I see, began Jennifer in a whisper, so, it’s ok to hire a 4x4, petrol guzzling, urban rhino hunter – JUST NOT TO BUY ONE!

Jennifer turned on her heels, feeling the thrill of verbal victory. She marched up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door behind her.

Check mate, said the twins with a high five and a huge grin on their identical faces.

Their mother spun round and glared at them. Well don’t just sit there playing chess, come and help with the dishes!

The argument, three days ago, had certainly been the highlight of the twins’ day, but since then things has settled back into a more normal pattern: father working in the City of London, mother working in her upstairs office, sister sulking and the London summer getting hotter and hotter. But then something much more interesting happened.

On August the 5th after breakfast Jennifer was up in her room sulking because she felt the summer holidays were destined to be the worst ever with nothing exciting happening at all, when she heard a commotion coming from downstairs. She heard her mother shouting at the twins to be quiet and not run in the house.

But mum, said Claire, the postman has just given us a foreign letter.

It could be from Aunty Izzy, said Jack. Please mum can we open it? they cried in unison.

The twins seemed at times to work as a double act, they often had the same ideas and knew just what the other was thinking. They were not identical twins, of course, one being a boy and the other a girl, but they were both very blond and had blue eyes and people often thought they were both boys as Claire had her hair cut very short. At nine years old she didn’t think it necessary to be all girlie like Jennifer whose hair was long and a rich red colour and whose green eyes flashed if her hair wasn’t just so! Claire hoped she would never care about her hair or what she looked like.

The twins were always very excited when a letter from Aunty Izzy arrived. She often wrote when she was away on her painting trips because she hated computers and vowed she would never send emails. She felt a letter was much more interesting with its exotic stamps and the smell of the envelope that had been through so many different countries and touched by so many hands before it reached its destination. The twins always imagined the journey Aunty Izzy’s letters took - on camel trains through deserts and strange cities, carried by donkeys or taken on small steam ships down rivers infested with crocodiles and finally reaching them in London after a flight lasting many hours. She had taught them to look at the stamps first to see which country a letter came from and she treated each stamp as if it were a work of art. Look at that little jewel of a stamp with its kangaroo and bottlebrush plant, she had said once when she received a letter from a friend in Australia. It’s such a shame that we throw them away!

Izzy, whose real name was Isabelle was their mother’s younger sister. She was an artist who travelled the world never staying very long in her rented accommodation. As she said, she only stayed put till the inspiration and the paint both dried up. Claire and Jack were not really sure what she meant, but they knew that her letters were often funny and always surprising and they couldn’t wait to see what this one contained. They knew it was from France because they had read the stamp.

When their mother opened the envelope they were a tad disappointed as nothing exciting fell out and it contained no photographs or foreign money. Just a letter. Their mother read it quickly and then returned it to the envelope.

What did she say? the twins moaned in unison.

Nothing very exciting, replied their mother. She has just rented a house for the next four months and wanted to give me her address. I’m just popping out to the shop for some bread so you two pack up your swimming things and we’ll go to the pool after lunch. The twins had heard that it was bad to swim after a meal but they didn’t say anything just turned their heads to each other and rolled their eyes upwards. Something would probably stop them from going anyway. Their mother would suddenly realise that they should wait two hours after eating before swimming and then it would be too late in the day!

When their mother had gone out the twins looked at the letter. They felt sure that Aunty Izzy would not write anything so boring as just her address. They were both curious. They both adored their artistic Aunt and had always had great fun in her company. Sometimes she was a bit weird and seemed to live up to their mother’s nickname for her, which was Dizzy. She also seemed to be able to read minds, especially children’s minds, and even see into the future. They remembered once when she had stayed with them in London and they had both been desperate to go to see Buckingham Palace and Aunty Izzy had just said quite casually over breakfast, I think we should all go to see if the Queen is at home today. Who fancies a trip to the Palace? When they asked her how she knew they wanted to go she said, I can read your thoughts, petals! They had had a marvellous day and laughed themselves silly to see their crazy Aunt imitating the guards as she marched back and forth in front of the palace gates holding a melting ice cream, instead of a gun, high above her head.

Do you think we could read it? whispered Claire, as if her mother might overhear.

Mum didn’t say we couldn’t, replied Jack.

In a flash the two were poring over the letter. It was true that it was brief and contained their Aunt’s new address but it also contained something much more interesting, if only they could talk to their mother about it without revealing that they had opened the letter!

The twins thought Jenny might be able to think of a way out of their dilemma and decided to show her the letter. They went up to her bedroom where she was listening to her favourite music. They pushed open the door and were met with a scream of abuse, Can’t you two read? She meant the sign on her door that said NO TWINS ALLOWED.

The twins peeped their heads around the door- frame