Searching for Nell

By Harriet Cliff

When 9-year-old Tom spends the summer at his grandparents' new house in the country he finds himself at the centre of a mystery that spans centuries.

Tom discovers that he is able to communicate with the ghosts of a bygone era. Amongst them are two little girls that need his assistance. With help from the new friends that he makes there, he sets about unravelling the secrets of the house and the lives of its old inhabitants.

Through research and detective work the past and present come together in a tale of intrigue, history and dogged determination to discover the truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781291865486

Book preview

Searching for Nell

COPYRIGHT

First Edition

Copyright @2014 Harriet Cliff

Publisher: Lulu.com

Distributor: Lulu.com

ISBN: 978-1-291-86548-6

All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

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.

Contact: Serendipity, 99 Roman Road, Salisbury, Wiltshire, SP2 9BJ

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A year or so ago I spent many enjoyable hours with the older children of a small Wiltshire primary school. That happy, friendly, uncomplicated group were the inspiration for this book.

Many thanks to Richard Marsh for reading my fledgling book over a Christmas holiday and the very useful suggestions he made.  I also thank Bridget Wilkins of Living Proofs for correcting my mistakes, bringing my work up to publishing standard and then publishing it as an eBook. Without Bridget, my manuscript would still be sitting in a drawer.

CHAPTER 1   THE GHOSTS OF BENTLEY HOUSE

Charlotte’s little sister was crying for Nell again. Charlotte gave her a hug.

Shall we go and see if she has come back? she said.  Her sister nodded and the two girls went out of their room and climbed up the twisted stairs to Nell’s room. They opened the door and walked in. Nothing had changed. The bed was unslept in and there was nobody there.

The two girls turned sadly and walked hand-in-hand down the stairs again. At the bottom, before returning to their bedroom they opened the door on the left where their father slept when he was at home. It was a very long time since anybody had slept there and they expected to see nothing.

To their amazement there was a form in the bed and as they crept closer they could see it was a small boy. They gazed in surprise at the shortness of his hair and after a minute they crept away and back to their room.

Should we wake him? the younger girl said.

No, said Charlotte. The last time we woke somebody in that room they screamed and ran away.

Her sister looked sad. It would be nice to have a friend. We haven’t talked to anyone else for such a long time.

The two girls returned to bed and the following night they repeated what they had done the night before. Nell was still not in her bedroom but the boy was asleep in the room at the bottom of the stairs. This time as they gazed at him his eyes half opened. He looked at them, smiled and went back to sleep again.

On the third night they looked into the boy’s room before going up the stairs but he wasn’t there. Disappointed, the younger girl began to cry as they climbed the stairs to Nell’s room but stopped instantly as they walked in to find four children looking at them.

Some days earlier, Tom had come out of school and was surprised to see his mother there to meet him instead of Tilda who usually looked after him until she came home from work. He beamed with pleasure and gave her a hug as she held her arms open. He was a stocky light-haired boy with a smiling face. His hair was cut very short at the beginning of each term but by the end of term was long enough for his mother to shave off the sides leaving a long strip in the middle for a Mohican during the holidays.

The day before, Tom had not been happy. It would soon be the start of the long school holidays and he was not looking forward to them. His mother was a single parent and he was due to go to holiday club for most of the time. He did enjoy some of the outings but a lot of the activities didn’t interest him.

Oh, Mum…, he had moaned. Why do I have to go to holiday club? The conversation he’d had with his mother had not been very useful.  He didn’t like the holiday club but she had to work.

As they walked over to the car park and got into the car he wondered whether to start arguing but decided there was no point. He leaned over and flipped the radio on to Radio One and watched out for supercars.  Mum, for once, didn’t quiz him about his day.  She seemed very quiet, deep in thought.

They drew up at the small house where they had lived since Mum got a new job in this town.  They used to live near Grandma and Grandad, some distance away.  Life had been better then.  Grandma and Grandad had taken him to school and picked him up.  He had liked living there.  When he was very little he had lived with Mum in their house.  Now that they had retired, Grandma and Grandad were just about to move from that house to one in a village a few miles away.

Tom and his mother went down the steep steps leading to their house, in through the front door, through the hall and living room and into the kitchen. Mum put on the kettle and made herself a cup of tea while Tom poured himself a glass of juice. They carried their drinks into the living room.

Can I watch TV? said Tom and waited for the words, Have you got any homework?  But instead, Mum said, Before you do that I have something very important to talk to you about.  I have been asked to go to America with my job for a few weeks.

Oh, can I come? said Tom.

I’m afraid not, replied Mum. I shall have to work long hours and there will be nobody to look after you.

Tom was crestfallen.  But what will happen to me?

Well.  I have had a chat with Grandma and she has said that as long as you will help get their new house sorted out you can stay with them. I wouldn’t normally have asked them as moving house is such an upset but Grandma says she is sure they can manage.

Tom felt like a great weight was lifted from his shoulders.  A huge grin lit up his face. What?  No holiday club?  Cool!

Mum smiled back. Won’t you miss me just one little bit?

Oh, of course I will, but it will be great to stay with Grandma and Grandad and I’m sure I shall be an enormous help to them.

Later on that evening Tom spoke to Grandma on the phone. 

What’s the house like? asked Tom.

It’s lovely, said Grandma.  It gave me a really good feeling when I went to look at it.  It was warm and welcoming and felt like home.  It’s very old and not as big as our old house but it has three bedrooms.  There is a kitchen, a little parlour and a dining room downstairs and one room that opens onto a lovely garden. The garden is quite big and overgrown but we wanted a larger garden and look forward to a challenge. Now we are retired we can have the garden we would have liked but didn’t have time for.

Is there space for me to play? asked Tom.

Yes, said Grandma.  There is a good-sized lawn and also a sort of wilderness area where you could have a camp.

Do you think there are any other children nearby?

I don’t know that but as soon as you arrive we shall have to find out.

When you are moving in?

The day is fixed two days before you break up.

Oh, said Tom, disappointed.  I hoped I would be there on moving day.

Probably not a good idea, said Grandma.  I expect Grandad and I will get a bit irritable and there will be nowhere for you to sleep. I shall make a bit of order downstairs but wait until you arrive for you to choose your bedroom and we can sort that out together.  How does that sound?  Tom agreed that was probably a good idea.  Grandma was great fun and very lively but under pressure could get rather cross.  Grandad was more placid and tended to sit back and look resigned.

There was only a week to go before the end of term. Mum was going to help him pack and then take him to Silton.  It was a small village a few miles outside the town where they used to live. There was, Grandma had told him, a village shop, a church, a pub and a small school. There were old cottages and houses round the village green and two small developments of new houses.  Grandma and Grandad were moving into one of the old houses.  It was not a cottage, (‘no thatch, thank goodness!’), Grandma had said, but one of the oldest houses in the village and it had been divided into two homes.  Some of it dated back to Tudor times. Tom had looked this up and was expecting low ceilings and dark beams.

The evening before they travelled, Grandma telephoned.  We’ve got the downstairs and especially the kitchen sorted so we shan’t starve, she said.

Do you like it? asked Tom.  Did you mind leaving your old home?

I was sad to leave our old place but I love it here, said Grandma.  I have met our neighbours who came round and said ‘hello’ and guess what, they have a daughter who is about your age and a little one Petra’s age.

Petra was