The Hiding House by Malcolm Richards

Author:Malcolm Richards [Richards, Malcolm]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Storm House
Published: 2015-04-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Secrets (The Past)

“Nana? Why do you think our mother left us?”

The clack of Nana May’s knitting needles came to an abrupt halt. She sat in her rocking chair next to a crackling fire in the living room, a half-made winter scarf trailing down her lap. The flames cast her skin in a warm, orange glow as she rocked back and forth, each motion of the chair punctuated by a soft wooden creak. Brightly coloured Christmas decorations hung from the ceiling in ribbons and plumes and they sparkled and danced on heat currents rising from the fire. Shiny baubles clinked amongst the tinsel of the evergreen that stood in the corner, rooted in a bucket of earth.

“Oh my,” she said. “Now, that’s a question and a half.”

Elise nodded. She sat in the windowsill watching thick flurries of snow twirl about the disappearing yard. It had been snowing since the middle of the night and with the grandfather clock chiming in the third hour of the afternoon, it showed no signs of relenting. The disused pick-up truck was already half buried. Woodland trees had transformed into scaled down icy mountains. All of Nana’s cats had, for once, been permitted into the house and were now sprawled out on a large red rug, basking in the heat of the fire. A symphony of contented purring floated on the air.

A shrill wind whistled past the house. Elise felt the chill through the draughty windowpanes.

“It’s been almost four years,” she said. “She’s not coming back, is she?”

Nana May rested her knitting in her lap. “Come away from that window, girl. You’ll catch your death sitting there.”

Slipping off the sill, Elise padded over to the armchair next to the fire and dropped down into it, pulling her knees up to her chin.

“Feet!” Nana scolded.

Elise dropped her feet from the chair to the floor. The old woman picked up her needles, re-counted the stitches she had cast, and set off knitting with expertise. She spied on her granddaughter as she worked.

“Goodness! You got a face on you like a wet weekend!”

“I want to know what you think,” Elise pressed. “About why she left.”

May puffed out her cheeks and fixed her gaze on her knitting.

“That snow keeps up and we’ll be buried here for days. Good job we got supplies in.”

Elise sat forward in her chair. “Nana! Answer me. Why do you think she left us?”

“Well, really! Is that any way to talk to an old woman? Your own grandmother no less!”

The girl bowed her head. “I’m sorry. But I’m fed up with feeling like this, Nana. If she’s not coming back I’d like to know about it. That way I can just forget about her and get on with things.”

“You wash your mouth out!” Nana barked. “You don’t know if she’s never coming back. Only she and God knows that. Your mother has her fair share of problems true enough, but she don’t deserve to be forgotten.”

“Me and Sebastian didn’t deserve to be dumped off. We

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