A Change In The Weather

Chapter 6: The attic

16 December, 2007 – 9:45 pm

Scarlet awoke bright and early, but all she could do was stare forlornly out of her bedroom window. She’d been watching the tiny rivulets of water trickle down the pane for what seemed an eternity now and even though it was almost dinnertime what was really occupying her mind was Bracken Wood, just waiting there to be explored at the bottom of the garden.

She’d given the dragon mask pride of place on top of her wardrobe. It rested there with its long red beard flowing over the door, as if it were some precious tribal artifact from a faraway exotic land.

What did the old man call it again? She stared at the wild eyes and big fangs and turned her head to the window once more before letting out a weary sigh.

She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so bored before.

It was no use though, she and Thomas had both been itching to get out, but the weather had just been too rotten. They’d watched and prayed, silently hoping that the torrent would stop, but the rain was falling in sheets, much worse than before. Just yesterday the weather had been beautiful and they’d both played all day, and now this. To Scarlet it was a disaster of epic proportions.

She clambered down from the window ledge desperately longing for something to break the monotony, so she skulked off out of her room to search for Thomas.

She eventually found him sitting on the landing amidst a sea of Lego bricks, surrounded by some of his more bizarre creations. She caught him staring at the ceiling.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

Thomas snapped some bricks together and nodded upwards to the loft hatch.

‘What do you think’s up there?’ he said almost casually.

Scarlet rolled her eyes upwards.

‘Up there? Dunno. Why? Do you want to find out?’

She jumped up a few times, but couldn’t quite reach the latch.

Thomas sniffed.

‘Well, I reckon it would be a lot better than just sitting here waiting for it to stop raining all day…’ he answered quite matter-of-factly, before picking up one of his Lego spaceships. He held it and flew it through the air, making a few ‘whooshing’ noises as it passed, then put it down and stuck some more bricks to it.

‘There could be anything up there,’ he added, glancing up at her.

The notion that there was something up there ready to be discovered instantly sparked Scarlet’s imagination and she stared upwards with eyes wide-open as Thomas continued to add more bricks to his creation, and then she ran off.

‘Where you going?’ he asked.

She came back carrying a chair, which she positioned under the loft hatch. No sooner had she put it down than she disappeared off and brought out a box, which she placed on top of the chair.

‘There!’ she said proudly, ‘what about that then?’

She folded her arms feeling rather pleased with herself at the distinctly wobbly-looking creation.

Without warning Thomas scrambled precariously to the top of the chair and box, which teetered forwards and backwards dangerously as he fought to reach the loft catch and keep his balance at the same time.

‘Thomas! Get down, it was my idea!’ she cried, trying desperately to steady the chair to stop the whole lot from collapsing.

Thomas looked down and shouted. ‘Wasn’t! It was mine remem…’

Suddenly Scarlet grabbed his leg and pulled him down, but not before he’d managed to grab the latch on the trapdoor, which swung open with dust, debris and a loud creak.

‘…ber?’

Thomas stared weakly at the gaping hole in the ceiling as he tried to regain his balance.

‘Om!’ he said, turning around and pointing an accusing finger at his sister. ‘It’s all your fault!’

‘My fault?’ replied Scarlet in total disbelief, ‘Why, I’ve a good mind to knock your stupid head off! If you hadn’t climbed up there in the first place it would never have happened! I mean, I never expected you to actually try to open it!’ she said, lying.

They both stared at each other for a while and then at the swinging trapdoor. Scarlet eventually put her finger to her lips, raised her eyebrows and pointed upwards.

It was no use; there was no backing away now. Whatever lay there in the dark ready to be discovered was calling to them…

* * * * *

Scarlet was first up.

The attic was warm with a strong smell of timber and fusty air. In lots of ways this reminded her of the spooky shed at their old house, but with thankfully less cobwebs and creepy-crawlies. She couldn’t help but shiver a little at the thought of it though.

It was dark but the patches in the thatched roof let tiny shafts of light illuminate the attic just enough to allow her eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness.

Scarlet helped pull Thomas up after a few seconds, and they both stood there, back lit with the light that shone up through the open trapdoor from below.

‘Oh my god!’ whispered Thomas, looking around trying to find the right words. ‘This is amazing!’ he hissed, grinning from ear to ear. ‘What’s the betting we find something up here?’

‘Like what exactly?’ murmured Scarlet without turning around.

‘Something valuable like treasure, maybe?’

‘What - in a cottage in the country?’ whispered Scarlet, incredulously. ‘Ha! That’s quite the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve heard you say all year…’

Thomas poked his tongue out but Scarlet pretended not to notice. Instead she walked slowly across an old planked area of the roof that creaked and groaned with each footstep.

An old water tank sat dejectedly in the corner making dripping noises every now and again, and there were a few empty cardboard boxes strewn about. Bundles of old newspapers held together with string seemed to have been used as insulation. All had been gnawed through thoroughly by mice.

The old roof space looked rather like a miniature version of the wood outside with its wooden beams and joists rising from the floor supporting the roof and the little shafts of light breaking through the holes in the thatch.

Scarlet looked around as Thomas scurried off in the direction of the water tank.

‘Be careful and just walk on the planks,’ she whispered cautiously, ‘otherwise you’ll go straight through the roof, and I don’t think dad would be too happy if that happened…’

‘I know what I’m doing…’ replied Thomas defensively, as if he’d been up in the attic a thousand times before.

She shook her head and tiptoed off, making sure she didn’t step on anything she shouldn’t. As she looked around, she felt herself being strangely drawn to one particular corner of the wall that had a few loose bricks poking out of it.

As she glanced down at the floor, she noticed there was something jutting out of the insulation. Judging by the amount of dust that was covering everything else, she assumed it had been placed there recently. She looked around for Thomas. Surely it couldn’t possibly be treasure?

No, she wouldn’t let herself believe it. Even so, she could barely disguise her excitement as she bent down and dusted it off. She turned around and held it up to the light to try to get a better view. Whatever could it be, she thought?

It was a small box made of dark stained wood with a single keyhole in the top. It had seen better days judging by the amount of dents, scratches and chips on it. The hinges were plain and black and made of iron, and no doubt old. As she examined it, her eyes widened in astonishment and she called Thomas over.

‘I told you! It’s treasure!’ he whispered, as Scarlet turned it over slowly in her hands. Then he spotted something. ‘Turn it over again. There was something there. See it?’

She turned it over again and sure enough, on the bottom of the box, was a strange inscription that she couldn’t quite read. She looked at it again, and although it looked like writing it didn’t make any sense - it seemed to be completely illegible.

Thomas tutted.

‘It’s total gobbledygook!’ he sulked, looking disappointedly at his sister, who was shook her head.

‘No it’s not gobbledygook.’ she pointed out. ‘Look. They’re pictures, more like Egyptian or something.’
She remembered seeing hieroglyphics in a book on ancient Egypt when she was at school. These looked similar, but at the same time she knew they definitely weren’t the same.

‘They’re pictograms or something… I bet that’s what these are. Tiny symbols that mean something. The trouble is what do they mean?’

Thomas looked up at her. ‘Hurry up and open it then!’ he hissed impatiently, nudging his sister in the ribs.

She pushed him away to try to get some room to manoeuvre as she attempted to open the box, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried to get her fingernails in the gap between the lid and the box to prise it open, but it was no use, it steadfastly refused.

‘I can’t, it’s locked!’ she said eventually in frustration.

‘And I don’t have a key.’

Although the box was small it was also incredibly tough, and it seemed as if it wasn’t going to give up its secrets just yet. They both sat there staring at it, as if trying to fathom the box’s mysterious contents.

And then Thomas took a sharp intake of breath.

‘I know!’ he said, suddenly inspired.

‘What!’

‘Well…’ he began, and then went quiet as he frowned. It was obvious he was thinking hard about something.

‘Well? Go on then!’ Scarlet cried in exasperation.

‘Well… Why don’t we…’

There was a short pause before he continued as if trying to gauge Scarlet’s reaction even before he’d suggested anything.

‘…drop it from a window and smash the box open?’ he said quickly.

Scarlet looked horrified at him. She couldn’t tell whether he was being serious or not.

‘No! I don’t want to break it. There could be anything in there.’ said Scarlet as she held the box tightly to herself just in case he was being genuinely unhelpful.

‘But it’s just a box!’ he cried, throwing his arms up in the air. ‘The real prize is whatever’s inside…’ he said, pointing at it.

Scarlet’s eyes narrowed.

‘That’s just typical of you…’ she said.

‘You end up breaking everything you’re given. Either that or things end up being re-engineered. I still remember what you did to mum’s music box. And, now I come to remember it, dad’s watch…’

Thomas shrugged and walked off.

‘Suit yourself then. Just trying to be helpful that’s all…’ he said.

Scarlet said nothing. Instead she held the box against herself and watched him closely. Then he turned around on his heel.

‘Ok. Tell me how you’re going to open it without the key?’ he asked.

Scarlet stood there for a while before answering.

‘I don’t know, but I’m not going to destroy it if that’s what you think.’ she said.

‘Face it, you don’t have the key, and the chances are you’ll probably never find it either. And you’re not going to be able to pick the lock,’ he said, ‘not without my help anyway. I know how to pick locks. I’m a master lock-picker.’

‘Yes,’ she replied with a snort, ‘I remember when you managed to lock yourself in the shed at the bottom of the garden. Nobody heard your shouts for hours…’

‘I was just perfecting my technique that’s all…’ said Thomas in defence. ‘You know – trying it out – practising. I’m a master now.’

Scarlet laughed.

‘Yes, you are a master. A master at destroying things and smashing things up… Thanks, but no thanks.’ she sniffed.

And then at that moment, there was a shout from downstairs calling them for dinner. They suddenly remembered that they weren’t supposed to be there and they both hurriedly scrambled down through the trapdoor, taking the little wooden box with them.

* * * * *

After dinner, it had thankfully stopped raining, and they both hurriedly got ready to go out. Scarlet took one final look at the box in her bedroom and gave it a brush once more. She held the box up to her ear and gently shook it. Something rattled inside. She wasn’t certain if there was just one thing inside or several. Whatever could it be hiding? Certainly it didn’t feel heavy, in fact rather strangely the stout-looking box felt as light as a feather. Something nevertheless bothered her. Some instinct inside told her that a box shouldn’t normally feel like that.

She ran her fingers over the strange inscription on the bottom of the box and felt a tingle of excitement run through her - something within her desperately wanted to find out what was hiding inside. Maybe she could find a way of opening the box later when they both got back. She even briefly contemplated asking Thomas to attempt to open it with his extraordinary lock-picking techniques, but in the end she came to her senses.

She looked up to see Thomas pulling faces at her through the window and calling to her from outside. Hurriedly she pushed the box under the bed, grabbed her coat and ran out of the cottage across the garden towards the small timber fence and Bracken Wood beyond.

Posted in A Change In The Weather |