The River Charm Read Online Free PDF Page A

that I were dead!’
    Millie slipped backwards from the room and pulled the door shut, her heart thumping. She paused in the hallway. What did I see? Where have I been? Why didn’t I talk to them? She nibbled on her fingertip, tearing the quick until it bled.
    Taking a deep breath, she opened the door into the drawing room and hurried in, determined to speak to the children this time – but they were gone. Instead, the drawing room was as it had been: empty and cold. Millie stepped back into the vestibule and tried opening the door again, but nothing changed. She stood in the sitting room, eyes closed, concentrating hard, willing the ghost children to return. Nothing happened.
    Feeling confused and strangely bereft, Millie slowly wandered back out to the garden to join the others.
    â€˜Oh, there you are, Millie,’ said Mum. ‘I was beginning to think you’d lost your way.’
    Millie smiled wanly and handed the gloves to Aunt Jessamine, who drew them over her cold hands.
    â€˜Are you all right, Millie?’ asked Mum. ‘You look very pale.’
    â€˜She looks like she’s seen a headless ghost,’ joked Bella. ‘Is the old house haunted, do you think, Millie?’
    Millie glared at Bella. ‘I was feeling a little faint.’
    Mum took Millie’s wrist to feel her pulse. ‘Perhaps we should take you home if you’re not well?’
    â€˜No, no,’ Millie insisted. ‘I’m fine. Actually, Aunt Jessamine, I was wondering if you could tell me more about the Atkinson family. When did they live here? What happened to them?’
    Aunt Jessamine’s eyes lit up. ‘Of course, Millie. I’d love to tell you about the family. Why don’t you sit down here beside me?’
    Millie sat on the old timber seat and looked up at the ancient tree, its vast branches spreading against the blue sky.
    â€˜Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?’ Aunt Jessamine asked.
    â€˜I’d like to know about the children,’ suggested Millie. ‘About Charlotte and Emily, and James and Louisa.’ She could see their faces clearly in her mind.
    â€˜Let me tell you their story,’ invited Aunt Jessamine, wriggling her back against the timber seat. ‘We have some time before lunch . . .’

3
    Master Maugie
    Â 
    Oldbury, Winter 1839
    The sun shone down out of a deep-blue sky, bathing the valley in a golden, late-afternoon haze. A flock of jewel-coloured lorikeets soared across the valley, swooping and diving.
    The two girls rode their ponies at a walk, side by side, through the river paddock, a black dog trotting along beside them. They rode side-saddle, their long blue skirts and flounced white petticoats cascading down the horses’ left sides.
    A flock of 300-odd sheep were scattered over the field, grazing on the dry, golden winter grass. Lambs gambolled, playing chase and tag, their long tails wagging. A glossy black crow, perched on a fence post, watched the lambs with beady yellow eyes.
    The sisters waved to the convict shepherd, who was smoking his pipe in the sunshine. He waved back languidly, his face brown and wrinkled under his broad-brimmed hat. Samson the dog bounded over to say hello to the shepherd’s dogs and received a welcome scratch behind the ears.
    â€˜Where shall we ride today?’ Charlotte asked her younger sister. ‘Would you like to ride along the creek towards Golden Valley, or shall we ride to the top ofGingenbullen and sketch up there?’
    Emily glanced along the creek, which was flowing sluggishly without the usual winter rains.
    There were a number of timber slab huts built beside the waterhole where the shepherds and stockmen lived. Two of the workers’ wives were hanging up washing on a rope strung between two trees. Chickens and geese scratched among the vegetables.
    â€˜I don’t mind,’ replied Emily, patting her horse’s neck