The Girl From the Attic by Marie Prins

Author:Marie Prins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Common Deer Press
Published: 2020-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Behind the house, Maddy spotted a wooden box pushed under the creamery window. She climbed onto it and tugged up the sash, rattling its glass. Then she lowered her backpack to the floor.

“Young ladies enter through the door.”

Maddy’s head jerked up and banged against the window frame. There was Aunt Ella standing by the sink. Rubbing her head, Maddy climbed awkwardly over the windowsill. She looked sheepishly at the old woman.

“Clare . . .”

“He’s just like you sneaking in through that window. Eva too.” Aunt Ella gestured at the small green door. “Escaping upstairs to hide from chores, they did when they was young,” she chuckled. “Muddy footprints gave them away, ev’ry time.”

She waved a letter in the air.

“But she won’t be coming here any time soon. Going to the States now, to see that fancy doctor.”

“Eva?”

Aunt Ella peered at Maddy over her glasses. “Aye, Eva. Martha’s taking her to the sanatorium in the mountains.” She shook her head. “If she’s fit to travel.” Aunt Ella folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket.

Maddy’s shoulders slumped. She was right. They couldn’t wait for the soap to harden for more than a day. They might not even have time for Clare to sell it. She would have to use her own money for Clare’s ticket. Or she would have to go by herself.

“Ella! We’re home!” Footsteps crossed the kitchen floor.

As Aunt Ella shuffled away to greet Aunt Helen, Maddy fled through the green door into the attic. Shadow lay on the bed. When she saw Maddy, she lifted her head and blinked at the wall. The small door to the woodshed was ajar. Without hesitation, Maddy ducked through it and into her own time.

In the woodshed’s loft, a wave of exhaustion rushed over her and pushed her into the captain’s chair. She yawned and tried to collect her thoughts. She needed to gather supplies for her train trip—snacks, a bottle of water, maybe a sweatshirt. Certainly money. But what kind? She couldn’t buy a ticket with money that had Queen Elizabeth’s face on it. Wait a minute! Poppa George had given her an old two-dollar bill for her birthday. It had Dominion of Canada stamped across the top in big old-fashioned letters. It was in her Private Box under her bed.

Maddy yawned again. The warm air of the loft began to wrap around her like a blanket. She closed her eyes and, without meaning to, fell asleep.

Hours later, sweat trickled down her forehead and woke her. Where was she? Her hand brushed the backpack scrunched on her lap. She stared at it groggily. Bit by bit, her memory returned in single words. Eva. Pills. Train. She jumped up and scrambled down the ladder. When she pushed open the woodshed door, she spotted a familiar car parked next to Dan’s truck. In the kitchen, she heard her grandfather’s voice on the patio. A surge of excitement shot through Maddy. Maybe Poppa George knew how people used to travel by train, like, a hundred years ago.

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