Secrets of an Old House

Secrets of an Old House

There was debris everywhere. You never know what you’ll find when you start on an old house. They held mystery and surprises. But this house had unearthed something a bit different to the usual.

Jim and his wife Martina were moving into their new home in September. Married two years, both teaching in local schools, it was their first real home together.    

The house was a turn of the century artisan cottage in the old part of the town, ten miles from the city. The previous owners had extended, taking up most of the back yard, except for a small area to the side. There was room for a few chairs during the summer, weather permitting. Jim and Martina were hoping for an Indian summer so that they could sit outside, glass of wine in hand, and enjoy the last of the rays. After returning from three weeks in Zanzibar, it made the time they would spend with Martina’s parents that bit shorter. Martina and her mother got on well, but her father’s deep sighs let everyone know that he wanted his own space back. 

“Don’t mind him” Mrs. Brown would say to the young couple. She was well used to his moods after thirty-five years. Martina didn’t take any notice, but Jim thought they would never get from under his feet. Repairs to the roof had been finished. The dividing wall between one of the bedrooms and the kitchen would be completed at the weekend. That would leave them with two bedrooms, one they could use as a home office. A new bathroom was to be fitted today. The cupboards over the bath had been demolished to brighten the bathroom. So far things had gone to plan. 

Leaving Mr. Brown sitting behind his newspaper and Martina and her mother planning to shop for curtains, Jim made his way down to the cottage. There was a skip outside, already full to the brim. He could hear the radio blaring as he opened the door. The builder turned the radio down when he saw Jim approaching. 

“How are things going?” Jim asked.

They got on well. Jim had found Steve to be a man of his word since the renovations started. Steve beckoned him into the bathroom.

“We found this” he said, holding a towel in his hand. 

He proceeded to open the towel, revealing a gun. Jim stepped back.

“Where the hell did that come from” he asked. 

“We found it when we were dismantling the overhead cupboards.” Steve said, looking up. All that was left were the wooden shelves. 

“Wrap it up Steve,” Jim said.

Jim took it outside and opened the boot of his car. He had no idea what he would do with it, but for now, it would be out of harm’s way. He spent a few hours around the old house, taking measurements, making lists. He was satisfied with progress. The kitchen had been ordered. That would be installed next week. Jim was satisfied that the work would be finished and himself and Martina would be in residence before school started in September. This other thing was playing on his mind. He had a vague idea that the family who lived in the house before them, had been young with a few children. He was about to get into the car, when he saw an elderly lady at the house next door. She waved to him.

“Good morning” he said.

One thing he had noticed about the area was that it was mostly an older neighbourhood.  Long ago, before the shops and supermarkets, and estates grew up around it, it had been the original village.   Now it was an ever- expanding town, bordering the coastline and six miles from the heart of the countryside. He walked over to the elderly woman.

“My name is Jim Wilson” he said, extending his hand. 

“Welcome” the woman said, shaking his hand.  “I’m Mrs. Boyle, Maria Boyle. It will be nice to have neighbours again. The house has been closed up for a several years now.” 

“Pleased to meet you Mrs. Boyle” Jim said.  “Myself and my wife Martina can’t wait to move in. This will be our first real home.” 

“Have you any little ones?” she asked. 

“Not yet” Jim said. 

“There’s plenty of time” Mrs. Boyle said with a smile. “It takes a lot for young people to get started these days”.

“Who lived in the house?” Jim asked. Might as well get straight to the point he thought. 

“They were a lovely little family. Had their own problems. Who hasn’t?” 

“When did they move away?” Jim asked. 

“There was a car accident. It was a shock to everyone around here. They were well liked. Herself and the children were lovely.  If you need anything” she said, “ I’m always here”.

That was all he was getting. With that, she moved back from the step and closed the door. 

“I’ve seen the curtains I want” Martina said, breathless as she dropped the bags on the floor. Her mother followed with more bags. “I hope you didn’t forget to measure the windows?”

“Have them all here” Jim said. “The bathroom should be finished today. It’s all moving fast. We can organise the kitchen for next week”.  

Even Martina’s father had a smile on his face. No doubt he was looking forward to having his house back as much as they wanted to move out. 

Jim and Martina loved sharing their excitement. They talked about most things in front of Martina’s parents. After dinner, they all sat in the garden until the light started to fade. It was a balmy evening. There was a slight sway from the oak tree. Just the sort of evening to unwind after a busy day. Jim felt more exhausted than usual.

“I might have an early night” he said to Martina.

 “I’ll be up soon” she said .

When the ten o’clock news was over, Martina excused herself and followed Jim up to bed. He was already asleep. She got in beside him and switched off the bed-side lamp. He didn’t move. She lay there for a while, thinking of what their house would look like, imagining the new curtains, the pine table and chairs. It didn’t take long for visions of the house to fade and she too was fast asleep.

“What in the name of God is this!” Martina cried out, as she lifted the shopping bags from the boot of the car. Jim froze. With all that had been going on yesterday, he hadn’t told her about the gun. 

“Don’t say anything. We’ll go for a coffee in a while, and I’ll explain everything.” 

Steve had finished cleaning the bathroom floor when they walked into the house. 

“It looks smashing” he said. “They were a good choice of tiles”. 

Martina and Jim followed him into the bathroom. The chrome on the taps were shining. Steve had cleaned the windowsill and the tiles. Every surface sparkled and smelt like pine. Martina couldn’t get over the transformation.

“It’s a brilliant job, Steve. You’re amazing” Martina said looking around. Steve followed Jim out to the living room.

 “Have you decided what to do with the gun?” he asked. 

“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Jim said “Don’t’ know yet. We haven’t discussed it properly.”

 Steve nodded in agreement. “Let me know.” He said.

Jim didn’t want the gun hanging around any longer. Himself and Martina decided to bring it down to the police station.  They explained how they had found it, gave the address of the house, and Jim’s telephone number to the Officer behind the desk.

“We’ll get back to you” was all the Officer said.

“I didn’t like the way he looked at you” Martina said.

“Well, it’s done now, and out of our hands. After that, I don’t really care” Jim answered.

He had spent the last few days with crazy scenarios going through his head. He didn’t know the previous owners of the house, but as far as he was concerned, he wanted to forget about them, and the gun.

By the end of August, the house was ready. Martina’s dad shelled them with praise for the job they had done.

“I couldn’t have done better myself” he said, which made Jim smile. 

Martina’s father had been in good form since he heard they were moving out and couldn’t do enough for them now that the time was drawing near. He even helped Jim move furniture around until everything was in its place. Friends and family joined them in celebrating their new home that first weekend. Mrs. Boyle was invited but she declined. The neighbour on the other side, Philip, said that he would be at the golf course but told Jim he would be welcome to join if he had time.  

Martina’s dad said, “It’s a good way of keeping fit. I might join myself.” 

Although the living room was big enough for their needs, it was a bit of a squeeze for everyone who turned up. They managed between the sitting room, and the chairs in the kitchen. Martina kept busy filling glasses and passing around sandwiches and cake.

A few weeks later, they were visiting Martina’s parents. Jim had offered to help cut back some of the shrubbery in the garden. Martina and her parents were relaxing in the sunshine, her father giving John advise on where to cut and what to leave alone. 

“Look at this Martina.” 

Martina leant across to see what her mother was reading in the local paper. In big capitals it read “Extradition Order Sought”. She read on. An Extradition Order has been sought for a father missing, feared drowned, after a car accident in 1986”.

“Hey John, come and see this”. 

He stood behind Martina. Her father was peering into the paper by her side. Martina continued to read. 

“After a tragic accident in 1986, it was thought that the father of the young family had drowned. His body had never been recovered. In recent weeks, the police had come across new evidence that initiated a further investigation into the case. It transpires that the father of the young family had since been living in Germany. Extradition was at once sought for his return to this country. 

“Was it because of the gun?” Martina asked Jim. 

“What gun? What are you talking about?” her father said.

Martina looked at Jim, and then her mother. “We’ll have to tell them Jim. They’ll hear about it soon enough.”

The case hit the headlines soon after that. In the neighbourhood, people closed ranks. Even Mrs. Boyle hadn’t a lot to say. But it was there for all to see now. On the surface, they portrayed an ordinary happy family. People liked her and her children. He would do anything for a neighbour. Always seemed good natured. The police, however, had records of the mother seeking refuge a few times, during violent episodes. She feared for her life. He had threatened to kill her if she ever tried to leave.   Their car had gone over a pier on the August bank holiday. A tragic accident, it was thought. He must have scrambled out of the car to raise the alarm or rescue his family. His body had been swept away, never to be found. The neighbourhood had gone into mourning. Everyone was in shock. 

Jim and Martina were contacted by the police who filled them in on how things were going, just enough not to prejudice the forthcoming Court Case. They were told that the gun was crucial evidence in investigating the tragedy further.

Details were soon all over the newspapers, on the radio and television. The father was brought back from Germany, where he had been living with a wife and baby son. It soon transpired that he had set up the whole tragedy, making sure that he escaped and disappeared.

It took the buzz out of their excitement for a while. Jim and Martina wondered if they should keep the house. Maybe it would be better to sell up and try again. In the end, they felt that finding the gun had brought justice for the wife and family. They could live with that.

2,040 words.