“The Cursed” Old House
Were here! Out you get! the driver called as he pulled the lorry up by the old timber fence and switched off the engine.
I nudged Ellie gently. She was fast asleep, her head warm against my shoulder, cheeks squashed into the fabric of my coat.
Sweetheart, weve arrived. Open your eyes, darling.
Ellie rubbed her eyes with her fist and looked around, her gaze searching for the house beyond the hedgerow.
Mum, is this where were going to live now?
Yes, love. Come on, lets have a look about. We need to unload the van and see whats what.
With Ellie perched on my hip, I clambered down onto the gravel path. Behind us, James, my ex, pulled up in his car and got out.
All alright? he asked, the question more for something to say than out of concern, it seemed.
Yes. Where are the keys?
Here. He handed me a keyring. The house paperworks on the kitchen counter. Ill come for Ellie on Saturday, as we agreed.
Fine.
Ill help shift the boxes, then I really have to run. Lots to do.
I nodded. My heart was a jangled mess, but deep down, I knew I had to get on with it. Life moves on, and with any luck, Id get through this without too much melodrama.
James and I had been together for five years. A month ago, Id learnt from a mutual friend that hed met someone else. Not just a fling he was already planning a proper new life with her. At first, I felt as if Id slipped into some dim-lit parallel world. Just yesterday, Id had stability, a husband, a home that felt safe and calm. And then nothing. Gone. Poof. Worse yet, my whole trust in people vanished with it. If the person Id been closest to could betray me so casually, what could I expect from anyone else?
That news hadnt just upset me. It had completely floored me.
Still, I kept up with the day-to-day: looking after Ellie, cooking, cleaning, working. But I couldnt bring myself to think more than a single step ahead. The flat we’d shared belonged to James’s parents. I only had my elderly Aunt May in Oxford my only real family. I hadnt been able to visit often, so Id arranged for a neighbour to bring her groceries and lend a hand. Id inherited my parents’ flat in Cambridge, but rented it out long-term, splitting the money between myself and Aunt May, who had her own little account. I tried persuading her to move closer, but she would never hear of it.
When James finally confessed, there were no dramatics, just a curt honesty. After Ellie was asleep, he called me into the kitchen.
I know you know. No point making excuses. It happened. We do have a daughter, though. We need to shield Ellie from this. What are you going to do now?
I I dont really know. I sat clinging to my mug, staring at the surface of the table.
Inside, a whirlwind. Why? How? Stupid questions, darting like wild rabbits and making it impossible to think straight. But I kept my face blank. I refused to let him see the hurt. I could hardly breathe through the ache, but he was right about one thing: I had to think of Ellie.
I suppose Ill have to ask the tenants to leave
No need. Its me whos in the wrong. I spoke with my parents and how would you feel about moving?
Where?
He looked guarded.
Mums old house in Oxford, from her parents. It needs work, but its sturdy and warm. And your Aunt May lives nearby, right? Mum wants to sign it over to you and Ellie. What do you think?
Severance payment? I quipped, partly kidding, partly not.
But really, it made sense. I couldnt bear the thought of bumping into him and the new girlfriend. Even the towns familiar parks felt tainted now. Every path, every bench, held a memory, and hurt like a bruise.
The village was small, but had a good school and everything wed need. And Mays reassuring presence. Ellie was still little, and James, I suspected, would never be as present as hed promised. I needed work…
Fine. Im in.
Thats settled then. Mum will call so you can sort deeds with the solicitor. Ill head out.
At the door, he lingered, didnt look at me.
Im sorry. I didnt mean for it to end like this.
I didnt bother replying. Just nodded, shut the door behind him, then slid down the wall in the hall, biting my sleeve to muffle the sound as the pain came pouring out.
It wasnt tears it was pure, animal grief. I remembered a documentary about wolves I’d seen as a child. Right then, I felt more like a wounded she-wolf than a woman.
I must have cried for ages. When it was done, the rage at James was gone, leaving an empty, scorched place inside. I felt, fluttering faintly in that emptiness, the need to find something good to fill it up, anything to stop myself falling straight through into despair.
The weeks that followed were a blur I didnt think about anything except the move and everything that came with it.
And now here we stood, beside the crooked fence of our new home, the overgrown garden wild and tangled so you could barely glimpse the house at all. Between the trees, only the tip of a roof and a flash of veranda glass caught the light.
Ellie tugged my sleeve.
Mum, what are you waiting for?! Lets go!
We followed the footpath, skirted an ancient apple tree, and there was the house.
No, House. It surprised me: a bit tumbledown, but solid, with a tiny upper floor and a lovely big veranda with coloured panes in the windows. Nestled in its autumn garden, it belonged in a photograph. I pulled out my camera, took a few snaps, and realised, quite suddenly, I rather liked it here. The thought of all the hard work ahead to make it ours felt, in that moment, necessary.
Ellie was wide-eyed, her finger in her mouth. I pulled gently at the bobble on her hat.
Come on, love, out with that finger! Impressed by the house?
Mummmmy, its beautiful!
I agree. Lets look inside and see if we cant find your new bedroom.
Yes! Quick, lets go!
We climbed the steps and entered through the veranda. The hallway was wide, with doors leading to the kitchen and two small rooms downstairs and one up in the attic room, plus a living-dining area with a big round table under the oldest lamp Id ever seen, shrouded in a crocheted shawl. The place was chilly, obviously unused for months. Yet, for some reason, it felt oddly welcoming, even then.
Kate! Everythings unloaded. Ive sorted the chaps with the van. James leaned into the room. Come, Ill show you how to work the boiler and the hot water.
He ran me through the basics, then left.
I headed for the kitchen. I filled the kettle, unpacked the little tub of stew, and started wiping the battered kitchen table. The kitchen was small but cosy, deep windows looking out into the garden. Ellie kicked her feet, watching the dancing light from the old glass lampshade.
Suddenly, there was a noisy thud on the window. Ellie let out a yipe, and I turned. Staring back at us from the windowsill outside was the biggest ginger tomcat Id ever seen.
Well, hello there did you mean to frighten us half to death? I caught my breath. Look, Ellie, isnt he handsome?
The cat blinked solemnly at me.
You coming in, then? Im sure we can find you a bit of chicken, if you fancy.
But he vanished.
The invitations open! I smiled and started setting the table. Ellie, quick, wash your hands! Lunch is ready.
I turned and jumped. The cat was sitting in the doorway.
How did you get in? I locked the door!
He just gazed back, utterly unbothered. His eyes were amber lanterns, and I swear he gave me a little squinting smile.
I found a plate and put out some chicken. He strode to it, tail aloft, and tucked in.
Later, checking the doors, I found an old cat-flap near the bottom of the back door. Clever lad hed known the way in all along.
Back in the kitchen, Ellie was crouched on the floor, whispering her secrets to the new companion. He listened as if he understood. I started to laugh the first time in ages.
My little conference, I said, grinning.
Both of them turned to look at me, and for a second, it was as if the cat shrugged, just like Ellie. It was so funny I couldnt help myself.
There was a knock at the door. I wagged a warning finger at Ellie.
Stay put! then went to open it.
A woman stood there, round and red-cheeked, holding a big carton of milk.
Afternoon! Im your neighbour Pam Gregory. Call me Auntie Pam. Here! she thrust the milk into my hands. Fresh from my Jersey cow! For you and the little one.
Oh, thank you! Im Kate. Lovely to meet you! The bottle was still warm. Fancy a cuppa? Please come in.
Pam bustled in behind me. Ellie gave a polite little wave.
Hello! Im Ellie.
Hello, love, said Pam, smiling. You two settling in, then? Ah! I see my old rascals found his way to you. Thats Wally. Hell beg for food at any house, mind you chuck him out if he gets too cheeky, or hell give up on mousing altogether.
Do you have mice? Ellie looked suitably scandalised.
Of course. Every cottage does especially at this time of year. Youll soon find you need that cat.
Mum, we need a Wally of our own!
I laughed.
Lets see, love. Pam, do you know anyone local whod like a bit of work someone good with a garden and a hammer? Im out of my depth, to be honest, and could use a reliable chap.
Worth speaking to Old Mick. Lives three doors down, green gate. Hes handy with anything, honest as the day, wont rip you off.
Thank you! I really appreciate it. Can I offer you a cup of tea? Havent got much, just biscuits and sweets, but youre very welcome.
Wouldnt say no, Pam smiled.
We drank tea, and she told me about the town and her family. Then:
Tell me, Kate, how did you come by this house, if you dont mind?
Inheritance, I tried to keep my voice light. No need to spill all the family drama.
You know, its been empty nearly twenty years. Folk say its a wrongun. Not frightening, exactly just unlucky. No ones lasted more than a year or two. Illness, sadness, family upsets The houses got a bit of a reputation. The original owner built it for his bride, but she died of fever inside of a year. He sold up, and its been passing hands ever since. Still, its a sturdy old thing. Just needs a bit of love, perhaps.
I played with my spoon, thinking.
Well, its what weve got, I said, mustering the bravest tone I could. Well make a go of it, Ellie and I. Were not easily scared, are we? Lets see what the place has got for us!
Months slipped by.
By spring, Ellie was settled in at nursery, I was doing portrait and wedding photography at the local studio, and wed found our feet. Photography had been a hobby, but Id taken courses when expecting Ellie, and it had become a source of steady income I even had a few studio sessions with babies from the village.
With Micks help, we cleared the garden, uncovering old apple and plum trees, and a patch for strawberries. Ellie would never want for fruit again. We patched the roof, cleaned the veranda, repaired the steps. The place began to come alive, morning sunlight pooling on the polished kitchen table as I sipped my tea and stroked the new rails, feeling finally at home.
Aunt May was my rock. Ellie and I called in each evening, even if only for a moment. It struck me often how glad I was to have moved here.
James visited often to see Ellie. Somehow, seeing him in dad mode, I could breathe a little easier. He hadnt abandoned her, after all. Sometimes, I even admitted to myself that I hadnt been perfect, either so there was no point clinging to past pain. What mattered was that Ellie felt secure and loved, even if mum and dad lived apart.
Aunt May often said:
Quite right, Katie! Let it go, love. Dont let the little things fester, or youll turn every sadness into heartbreak. Youve got a wonderful little girl to raise, thats what matters. You need a light heart for her she watches you, mind, sees everything. What do you want her to remember about these years? What sort of mum do you want her to see?
She was right.
We soon got to know everyone on the street. Some of the younger mums came over with their little ones, giving Ellie a circle of friends. The older folk popped in for a chat, too.
Thats how I met Mrs. Marshall, a jolly widow further up who taught me to bake bread. Ellie, who had always grumbled about drinking milk, would drink a whole glass for the promise of a crusty slice of fresh bread, which she munched, moustache and all, to my delight.
We became friends with Old Tom, who lived at the corner and once appeared with a basket of the biggest strawberries Id ever seen.
Cambridge Glory, this ones called. Once youre properly settled, Ill show you how to grow your own.
After Mick helped me restore the veranda, I placed a big table by the windows, polished the old coloured glass and scrubbed the floor. Ellie spent most evenings curled up in a rocking chair with Wally the ginger cat, whod decided hed live part-time with us. Now, I always checked the steps in the morning after once stepping straight onto a perfectly lined row of dead mice. Wally truly earned his keep, but Ellie adored him besides.
The only person I couldnt warm to was Mrs. Green, a neighbour a little older than me, notorious for gossip. I tried to avoid her long-winded talk, but shed latch on whenever I was polite enough to offer a cuppa.
Auntie Pam, how do I stop Mrs. Green? I pleaded one day. She just never stops!
Katie, you cant change her. Shell spread enough gossip to sink a ship if you annoy her. Best just grin and bear it thats what I do. Shes allergic to cats though, so I always keep one about.
Maybe I should get a dog or a houseful of cats!
Still, Mrs. Green knew I struggled to send guests on their way, and so she haunted my sitting room, pouring out a stream of stories, terrifyingly undeterred by my silent humming and feigned distraction.
Odd things happened whenever she was about. One day she tore her new skirt on a nail that, I would have sworn, wasnt there. Another time, she missed her chair entirely, even though there was nowhere else to fall. Whether it was luck or not, she came round less and less.
One morning, as I was trimming the hedge, I overheard her talking to Pam:
You cant tell me shes living in that house just with her daughter. There must be a bloke look, the house is tidy, the gardens thriving Must have him hidden, thats what.
Stop it, Zina! You know as well as I do, she pays Mick. Theres nothing more in it!
But that house Everyone knows its cursed. Why does she stay? And why are people always popping in to see her? Theyre all over her, no one comes to mine!
Because, my dear, people make a place, not bricks and mortar! Katies a good soul, so folk are drawn to her. Now, off you go Ive got milk on the boil! Shoo!
I retreated, shaking my head. People!
Mum! Where are you? Ellie called from the porch.
Here, love! Are you up and washed?
Not yet! Wait! Look!
Ellie pointed. Up the garden path strolled Wally, dragging a small ginger kitten by the scruff. He deposited the little thing at my feet and gave me the most reproachful look. I bent down, receiving the fluffy bundle, which complained noisily.
Thank you, Wally. Was this necessary?
He gave a final, exasperated mrrow, and headed back towards Pams house, mission accomplished.
What do you think, Ellie? Shall we keep him?
Lets call him Wallace!
I lifted the kitten, holding its round face to mine.
Welcome, Lord Wallace. In you two come breakfast time.
Ellie giggled, burst through the door, and a wave of warmth and toast-scent rolled out to greet us both.
