Jessie's Ghosts Read Online Free PDF Page B

read ‘Fred
and Ruth’, but there didn’t seem to be any other women in the photographs. She
kept turning until she came to more photos of their wedding day.
    The caption
below the photograph read: Frederick and Gwynneth Marshall, June 10, 1951.
    ‘Gwynneth?’
Jessie said, ‘but that’s Nanna.’
    How confusing
was this? Nanna’s name was Ruth. Why was she called Gwynneth in the photo?
     
    ‘Nanna, who is
Gwynneth?’ Jessie asked as the next morning she scooped rich yellow yolk out of
an egg cup and laid it on her toast.
    Nanna laughed
and said, ‘Why, that’s my real name, Jessie.’
    ‘But your name
is Ruth,’ Jessie protested.
    ‘Yes, that’s
right too, love. I was never happy with the name Gwynneth – as a child I found
it very hard to pronounce, and at school I could never spell it. Ruth is my
middle name, so I just told everyone my name was Ruth and that’s what I’ve been
called ever since.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘How did you
find out my name was Gwynneth?’
    ‘I heard … I
mean it was written under one of the photos in the albums.’ Phew.
    ‘Oh, of
course. I’d forgotten about that, it was such a long time ago. At weddings you
always have to use your real name, so on my wedding day I was Gwynneth.’
    ‘Mmm.’
    ‘Well, are you
going over to see Harmony?’
    Later, she
thought. But right now she needed time to think.
    ‘I might go
for a walk first … to look at the animals.’
    ‘Just watch
out for Daisy, the big cow. She can get pretty irritable with strangers.’
    Away from the
house Jessie found a big old tree with lots of leafy branches and sat down in
the soft green grass beneath it. She pulled a notebook and pen out of her
pocket and started to write. Considering how late it had been last night and
how frightened and tired she had been, Jessie was surprised at how much of the
portrait conversation she actually remembered.
    First she wrote
that Harold had said it was an accident and that he would go to prison if he
told the police. Alongside this fact Jessie wrote: What accident?
    Then she wrote
that Harold said it was his father’s fault this had all happened. Alongside
that she wrote: Why was it his father’s fault?
    Finally she
wrote that Harold said he loved Gwynneth and could not live without her. Well,
at least Jessie now knew who Gwynneth was and that she was engaged to be
married to Fred - pop - at the time. Why then would Harold say he loved her?
    Now that she
had the facts straight, she needed answers. Would Nanna know the answers? There
was only one way to find out. But she would need to be really careful about
what she asked, or Nanna would wonder where she got her information.
    Nanna had said
that pop had hidden the portrait in the loft - maybe she could start with that.
She packed up her notebook and pen and brushed herself off. Daisy was grazing
close to the house and mooed loudly at Jessie as she walked by. Jessie could
just make out a sweet little black and white calf standing behind Daisy. She
would have loved to pat the calf but knew Daisy would never allow it. She was
just being protective.
    Seeing this
made Jessie think about Sarah and then she realised she hadn’t been thinking
about Sarah, or home, at all. This holiday wasn’t turning out to be too bad
after all.
    ‘Can I ask you
something?’ Jessie said as she bounced into the kitchen. Nanna was sitting at
the table, sorting through different coloured wools, a partly knitted striped
scarf over her knees.
    ‘Of course,
love.’
    Jessie took a
seat opposite Nanna. ‘Remember when I asked you about the portrait and you said
you had found it in the loft and that you thought pop had hidden it up there?
    Nanna nodded
as she took up her knitting needles and they began to click.
    ‘Well, why do
you suppose he never brought it down and hung it?’
    Nanna’s face
became serious and she put down her knitting.
    ‘Why do you
ask, Jessie?’
    Now she was
stumped. She couldn’t tell Nanna about it being haunted, could