The “Cursed” Old House
Were here! Unload your things! The driver brought the lorry to rest beside a sagging wooden fence and switched off the engine.
Clara softly nudged Alice, her daughter, who was dozing, nestled into her shoulder.
Darling, weve arrived. Open your eyes now.
Sleepy Alice rubbed her eyes with her fist and twisted her head, peering at the house ahead.
Mum, is this where well live now?
Yes, love. Come on! Time to unload and see whats what.
Clara hopped down from the high step to the ground, then scooped Alice in her arms. From behind the lorry appeared Matthew, who had followed them in his own car.
All alright?
Yes. Where are the keys?
Here you go, her ex-husband said, handing her a large ring of keys. The house deeds are on the kitchen table. Youll find them. Ill be back for Alice on Saturday, as we agreed.
Alright.
Ill help you with the boxes, then I have to be off. Loads to do.
Clara nodded, though inside her heart still ached terribly. She knew there was no changing what had happenedlife had to carry on! Preferably without too much wallowing.
She and Matthew had been together for five years. Only a month ago Clara found out Matthew had someone else. And not just some flinghe was starting a new family
At first, Clara felt like she had slipped into a parallel world. Everything seemed dim and uncertain. What now? How to live? It was impossible even to think. Only yesterday she had a home, security, her husband; todaynothing. Worse, her faith in people was completely gone. If the closest person could betray so carelessly, what could she expect from strangers? Things between her and Matthew had always been peacefulscarcely an argument. That was why she hadnt noticed a thing.
The revelation didnt just shake her, it floored her.
Clara kept up the motions: caring for Alice, cooking, tidying, workingbut her mind wouldnt settle, not even to plan a day ahead.
The flat theyd shared had belonged to Matthews parents. Claras only family was an elderly aunt, Edith, living in a nearby town. The only person truly hers. As Clara couldnt visit often, shed arranged for a neighbour to help Aunt Edithfetch groceries, medicine, keep an eye on her. Clara had her own parents flat, left to her in inheritance, which she let out. The rent was divided each month between Claras account and one shed opened for Edith. Time and again Clara had suggested Edith move closer, but the old woman refused every time.
When Matthew finally broke the silence about his new relationship, he knew Clara wouldnt make a scene. It wasnt her way. He was sure shed simply close up. So when it could no longer be hiddenwell-meaning friends had told Clara everythinghe came home, waited until Alice was asleep, and called Clara to the kitchen.
I know youre aware. I wont make excuses. Its happened. We have Alice to think about. We must make sure she isnt hurt by any of this. Have you any idea about what youll do?
I dont know yet Clara cupped her hands around her mug, gaze fixed to the table.
Inside her, chaos. Questionswhy? how?tore through her thoughts like startled hares, impossible to pin down. Outwardly, she showed nothing. She didnt want Matthew to see her pain. The hurt was so tight it hurt to breathe. But in this at least, he was right: Alice had to come first.
Perhaps I ought to end the lease with the tenants, Clara muttered.
No, dont. Im at fault, with you and with Alice. So I talked to my parents How would you feel about moving?
Where to? Clara lifted tearful eyes to herstill, for nowhusband.
You know my mums family home in the next town? Its old, granted, and needs some work, but its solid and warm. Plus, Edith lives just around the corner, right? Mum wants to put the house in your and Alices names. Well?
Severance pay? Clara managed a bitter smile, but actually considered it.
Maybe it was the best option. She didnt want to run into Matthew with his paramour around every street corner. Even strolling the neighbourhood with Alice hurt nowevery tree and bench recalled old, happier times, the three of them together.
She needed to think about the future. Her own, but most of all Alices.
What would she lose? The town was small, but there was a decent school, a surgery, everything nearbyincluding her only relative. Alice was still little, needing close watching. Matthew certainly wouldnt care for them as before. Shed need a job
Clara nodded firmly. Alright. I accept.
Sorted! You can talk things over with Mum at the solicitors. Shell ring you. I need to be off.
At the flats threshold Matthew paused, and without looking back, quietly said, Forgive me. I never wanted things to end like this.
Clara said nothing. She only nodded, closed the door behind him, slid down the wall, and, biting into her jumper sleeve so as not to wake Alice, howled her sorrow.
It wasnt cryingit was a real, keening wail. As a child, Clara once watched a nature programme about wolves, and at that moment, she felt not like a woman, but a wounded wolf mother.
She wept for a long time. With the tears, her anger at Matthew seemed to drain away, leaving only a hollow, scorched emptiness. The one thought still fluttering there, like a singed butterflyshe had to fill that void with something good, or she would be lost there forever.
The following weeks were so hard that Clara focused only on the move and the tasks around it.
And now she stood before the drooping fence of her new home, surveying a wildly overgrown, forgotten garden hiding most of the house itself. Only the roof and a corner of the verandah peeked between the trees.
Alice tugged at her hand. Mum! Why are you standing still? Lets go!
They made their way down the path, rounded an old apple tree, and there stood the house.
No, not just a house, Clara thought, but a Home. A bit shabby and worn, yes, but still sturdy, with a quaint little attic and a handsome verandah trimmed with coloured panes. Framed by the golden autumn orchard, it begged for a photograph. Clara unzipped her camera and snapped a few pictures. Looking at her future home, a glimmer of warmth swept up in hershe liked it, truly. All the work to do repairing and reviving it was, in its way, just what she needed. Alice stood gaping with a finger in her mouth. Clara gave her pompom hat a gentle tug.
Fingers out, little one! Surprised you, didnt it?
Muuum, its so pretty!
I think so too. Lets go inside and choose your bedroom.
Yes! Lets!
Up the steps they went, through the verandah. A broad hallway opened into kitchen and rooms. Clara wandered through, mentally arranging furniture.
It was a modest housekitchen, two small bedrooms downstairs and one up in the attic, but also a generous dining-sitting room with a great round table under a vintage lampshade wrapped in an old shawl. It was a bit dampclearly long unheated. Yet, somehow, Clara felt a real, underlying warmth and comfort regardless.
Clara! Everythings unloaded and Ive settled the removers, Matthew called from the drawing room. Come, Ill show you the boiler and heating.
A quick crash course and he was gone.
Clara retreated to the kitchen. She set the kettle to boil, unpacked containers of food for Alice, and put a casserole to warm. Wiping down the table with new cleaners, she took in the kitchens snugnesstwo big windows onto the garden, a little table by one. Alice swung her legs from a chair, eyeing cupboards and the lampshade above.
Suddenly, something struck the window with a bang. Alice squealed, Clara started, and looked up. A huge ginger tomcat sat on the outside sill.
Well, really! Must you startle me so? Clara caught her breath. Alice, look at this fine fellow!
The cat peered at her, unblinking.
What is it? Want to come in? Well, I daresay Ill find a treat for you.
The cat leapt down out of sight.
Suit yourself, Clara smiled. Come, Alice, wash up for lunch!
Clara turned to the doorand gave a gasp. The cat sat bold as you please on the threshold.
How did you get in? I locked the door!
He was silent, fearless, eyeing them with great golden eyes and a slow-contented blink that made Clara laugh despite herself.
She fetched a bit of cold chicken, divided it onto a plate. Here you are!
The ginger tom strode to his offering and ate with idle dignity.
Clara checked the doors. All were locked as shed left them, but in the bottom of the back door she found a small cat-flap, clearly ancient.
Well, that was that. The old boy knew his way around, right enough.
When she returned, Alice was on the floor beside the cat, chattering away as he listened. For the first time in an age, Clara giggled.
Having a word, are you?
Daughter and cat turned their heads in perfect sync, and for a moment Clara fancied even the cat managed a little shrug, just like Alice.
A knock at the door. Clara warned, Stay here! and went to answer.
Good afternoon! Im your neighbour, Mrs. Pamela Green. Just call me Aunt Pam. Here, take this! The woman thrust a litre bottle of milk into Claras hand. From my own goat! Drink up!
Thank you! Im Clara. Lovely to meet you. Goodness, still warm! Thank you so much. Pleasedo come in!
Not needing to be asked twice, Aunt Pam followed her inside.
Clara set the milk on the stove. Alice piped up, Hello! Im Alice!
Hello, Alice. Im Aunt Pam.
Nice to meet you! Do you know whose cat this is?
Of course! Thats my greedy scamphes called Percy. Dont let him get too lazy or fat or hell stop catching mice for you!
Are there mice here? Alices eyes widened.
Naturally. And in every country house, especially come autumn. There always are.
Mum, we need Percy! I mean, our own cat!
Clara smiled, Lets wait and see. Aunt Pam, is there anyone local looking for odd jobs? Someone who could help clear the garden and do a bit about the house? I cant manage aloneI really need a capable pair of hands.
Oh, there is. Go and see Old MickMick Bennett. He lives three doors down, green gate. Good man, can fix anything, and wont overcharge.
Thank you! Might you join us for some tea? Weve just arrivedhavent even unpacked the biscuits yetbut I know theres something to offer.
Id love that, Aunt Pam said, smiling.
They shared tea, with Aunt Pam chatting away about the town, her family, and then suddenlyTell me, Clara dear, how did you come to this place?
Inherited, really, Clara replied, trying to mask her feelings, but ruefully smiled to herself. She had no desire to spill out her whole history.
You know, this house has been boarded up nigh on twenty years. The youngsters have forgotten, but the older ones, we rememberits an odd house.
Odd? How so? Has something happened here?
Oh, nothing dreadfuldont get spooked! Only, no one has ever managed to stay long. A few years, then they up sticks. Some fell ill, some lost loved ones, some simply never found luck. Thats given the place a bit of a reputation. It was built by a local merchant for his bride, but she didnt last a yearfever took her. Broken-hearted, he sold up and left. Since then well, its nearly a hundred years old now, rebuilt a time or two, but for some reason, no one has made a life here.
Clara turned her teaspoon thoughtfully.
Curious Well, its ours now. We shall see! Were a brave lot, arent we, Alice? Not so easily frightened! Lets see what becomes of this place!
Months passed.
Clara settled well into her new life. Alice started nursery, and Clara found work at the local photography studio, earning a decent living with event photos. What once was a hobbyphotographyhad quietly become her calling. Even during her pregnancy, shed studied, taken on little jobs, and tried her hand at studio work. Now, those skills proved their worth.
Gradually, she restored the house and garden. Her help, as it turned out, was second to none.
A tall, sturdy fellow, introduced by Aunt Pam, he shook her hand, Call me MickIm used to it.
He listened kindly to all Clara wanted, and set to work.
Together, they cleared the gardenthere were more fruit trees and bushes than shed dreamed. With the right care, Alice would want for no fruit nor berry. Next, she and Mick fixed the roof, verandah, and front steps. It took weeks, but was worth every effort.
The house revived and breathed again. Stepping out onto the fresh-painted porch with her morning cup of tea, Clara would stroke the new railings and feel shed found her bit of peace in the world.
She also began caring for Aunt Edith, visiting every evening with Alice after nursery school, before heading home. Thisshe now sawwas the best decision she could have made. She felt calmer, and the pain of Matthews betrayal was finally softening.
He visited often, spending time with Alice. That comforted Clara. Matthew still cared for his childand, well, people drift apart. Clara stopped searching for reasons. She wasnt perfect; sometimes, absorbed in motherhood, shed neglected her husband. No use stirring up old grievances. All that mattered was making sure Alice knew there was a safe place, loving parentseven if not living together.
Aunt Edith, ever wise, supported her. Thats right, Clara, dont hold sorrow. Let it go. Even the smallest sadness, carried too long, can feel like a terrible weight in time. Remember the good. Youve a lovely daughterthats what counts! The restlet it fade. Forgive and move on. Dont let gloom gnaw your soul: Alice watches you, always. Children notice everything When she looks back on these days, what mother will she remember?
Clara nodded, agreeing.
Slowly, she befriended the whole street. One neighbour after another began calling round. Young families brought their children, and soon Alice had friends. The older folk also came by now and then.
Clara learned to bake bread from Aunt May, who lived a little further along. Alice was thrilled, and no longer fussed about drinking her milkput a chunk of fresh, crusty bread in her hand, and the glass would always be empty when returned to the kitchen, her upper lip painted white.
Clara soon also struck up a friendship with Old John. He introduced himself by way of a massive bowl of strawberriesThe ‘Britannia’ variety. When you settle in, Ill show you how to grow them.
Once the verandah was restored (thanks to handy Mick), Clara set up a big table, polished the stained glass, and scrubbed the wooden floor. In a corner sat a rocking chair Alice adored. Nearly every evening, shed curl up there with Percy, the bold ginger tom, who had quickly decided to divide his loyalties between two houses. Now Clara stepped outside carefully in the mornings, after one startling episode when she found a neat row of dead mice on the stepsPercy clearly earning his keep, although, truth be told, Clara would have welcomed him inside anyway: Alice doted on the cat.
Only one neighbour utterly irked Clara: Mrs. Zinnia. She was older, dreadfully interfering and loved to chatternot just gossip, but truly malicious stuff. At first, Clara tried to be patient, but then did everything to end the conversation as soon as it began.
Aunt Pam, how do I stop her? she moaned. Its a torrent of spite.
You can’t really, Clara. If you stop letting her in, shell spread tales about you all overand that sticks, no matter that people know you by now. Shes a rotten old dear. I put her off.
How?
Easy! I keep catsshes dreadfully allergic.
Should I get a dog, or another cat, perhaps
Zinnia had clearly realised that Clara was a ready, refined listener, and wasnt about to relinquish her new audience. Clara would serve tea, sigh, and hum songs in her head to block out Zinnias venom. It didnt matterZinnia didnt even need a reply.
After a while Clara noticed a peculiar pattern. Whenever Zinnia called, something always happened.
The first time, she tore her new skirt on a rogue nailClara was certain there had been none, as Mick had freshly done the rails. The next time, Zinnia missed her chair and landed flatimpossible, since the chair was firmly against a wall.
Whether it was incidents like these, or perhaps finding someone with better ears, but Zinnias visits became thankfully rare.
One morning as Clara trimmed bushes by her gate, she overheard Zinnia jawing with Aunt Pam.
Shes up to something, Pamyou do see? Living alone, just the child, no man about? I dont believe it! The gardens sorted, house is sorted, someones helping herbet he visits at night.
Oh, dont talk rot, Zinnia! Everyone knows Micks helped her and she paid him fair work for fair wage. Whats the nonsense?
And that house?
What of the house?
The whole town knowsthe house is cursed! Time she left, but shes still here, not a care in the world! Why? And people call on her, never on me. Why?
Because, Zinnia, its not the place but the person that matters. Clara is a good sort, so folk go to her. Now, off you popIve milk on the stove! With that, Aunt Pam turned on her heel.
Clara, stifling a smile, tiptoed back along the garden.
Muuum! Where are you? Alice called from the porch.
Here, darling. Are you up? Washed?
Not yet! Waitlook!
Clara followed her gaze: Percy the cat strode purposefully up the garden path, dangling a tiny ginger kitten by the scruff. He set it at Claras feet, with an admonishing look. She bent, cupped the fluffy creature, which protested being handled so roughly.
Thank you, Percy! You think we need him?
Percy gave a long, reproachful mew, turned and stalked off towards Aunt Pams housemission complete.
Well, Aliceperhaps hes right. What shall we call him?
Percy!
Clara held the kitten up and grinned, Welcome, Master Percy Jr! All right, kittensinside! Time for breakfast.
Alice giggled, flung open the verandah door, and a wave of homely warmth spilled from the house.
