The Sixth Window by Amy Cross

Author:Amy Cross [Cross, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

1982...

“My word,” June said, lifting up the battered, moldy old suitcase from the mud, “it's still here after so many years.”

“What is?” Lucy asked.

For a moment, June could only turn the suitcase around as she remembered how important it had once seemed. Following her parents' deaths, she'd had to pack all her remaining possessions into one small case; anything that didn't fit had been left behind. She'd been clutching the case on her journey to Holdham Hall with that kind Mr. Holden, and she still recalled how the handle had felt in her hand when he'd dropped her at the entrance gate.

“I'm terribly sorry I can't drive you to the door,” he'd told her, “but I'm awfully late for an appointment. You don't mind following that path to the schoolhouse, do you? The office sent a letter on ahead, telling them to expect you.”

“Of course,” June had replied, although deep down she'd been absolutely terrified. “Thank you for everything, Mr. Holden. You and the others have been so kind.”

He'd driven away, leaving June standing all alone clutching the suitcase. Now, as she wiped some dirt from the case, June marveled at the fact that it had remained hidden in the undergrowth for so many years. She'd dropped it on that awful night when she'd run from the supposed ghosts, and she'd never had a chance to go back for it. Setting it on the ground, she knelt in the mud and carefully opened the case, revealing the clothes and hairbrush she'd packed on the night she'd planned to run away from Holdham Hall forever.

“The plans of children,” she whispered.

“What is it?” Lucy asked, picking her way over. “It looks like a suitcase.”

“That's because it is,” June said, before gently closing the case.

“Was it just there in the mud?”

“It's of no importance.”

“But -”

“It's really not important,” June said again, getting to her feet while holding the suitcase, then turning to look at all the gravestones. For a moment, she wondered whether the ghostly little girls might appear again. “One mustn't allow oneself to become too wrapped up in the past. At least, not in the parts of the past that no longer matter.”

“I'm afraid this all seems very cryptic to me,” Lucy told her. “Or, I suppose, it could be that I'm rather slow on the uptake.”

“I'm sorry,” June replied, “but I'm still trying to work it all out myself.” She turned to Lucy. “Once I have a better idea, I shall be sure to -”

Stopping suddenly, she saw sunlight glinting in the lenses of Lucy's glasses.

“Is everything alright?” Lucy asked after a moment.

“I thought... I'm sorry, but I thought you broke your only pair.”

“My only pair of what?”

“Of glasses,” June reminded her, as once again her suspicions were stirred and she found herself questioning the other woman's claims. “When I first arrived, you broke them and you said you had no spare pair with you. You told me that you were going to be positively blind as a bat for the rest of our time here.

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