The Pearl Locket: A page-turning saga that will have you hooked. Kathleen McGurl

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      ‘The house was tested for damp, Kelly, when we had the survey done. There’s no damp in your room.’ Pete had come into the kitchen and heard her comments. He pushed his way past piles of boxes and grabbed the kettle. ‘I need more tea. Anyone else?’

      ‘Yes, please,’ Ali said.

      ‘Even if it’s not damp, will you do my room soon, please?’ said Kelly. ‘I want something really cool and classy. I had to put up with that Barbie wallpaper in the old house for far too long.’

      ‘Ha, well you chose it,’ laughed Ali.

      ‘Yeah, when I was, like, six. I grew up, Mum, or hadn’t you noticed?’ Kelly gave her a playful thump on the arm. She was right, Ali thought, she had grown up. So quickly. At seventeen she was almost a woman. What had happened to their little girl?

      ‘As soon as Matt gets here is it cool if we go out for a bit?’

      ‘Yes, it’s, er, cool. It’ll do you good. Go down to the beach or something. Make the most of the day.’ Ali gave her daughter a quick hug. She was glad they had a good relationship. Many of Kelly’s friends seemed to barely ever speak to their parents.

      The doorbell rang. Ali glanced at her watch. It was too early for Matt to arrive, surely? Kelly went to answer it.

      ‘Hi, are your parents in?’ Ali heard a male voice in the hallway. Not Matt. She brushed cardboard-dust off her T-shirt and went out to see who it was. Standing on the doorstep was a man in his forties, tanned, wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of loose denim shorts. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Sorry to interrupt your unpacking. I’m Jason Bergmann, your new neighbour from number seven.’ He held out his hand.

      Ali shook it. ‘Lovely to meet you, Jason. I’m Ali Bradshaw; this is my daughter, Kelly. Do come in. It’s a mess but we can offer you a cup of tea or coffee.’ She stood aside to let him pass.

      ‘I was just calling to welcome you to the street. And if you’re free this evening, come round about eight for a glass of wine in my garden? You’ll be sick of unpacking by then, I’d say.’

      He had a nice smile. Ali warmed to him instantly. ‘Thanks, that would be lovely.’

      ‘What would be lovely?’ said Pete, coming out of the kitchen with his mug of tea. ‘Oh, hello.’ He shook Jason’s hand.

      ‘Jason Bergmann. From next door. Bottle of wine round at mine this evening? To celebrate your move.’

      ‘Sounds good to me,’ Pete said. ‘I’m Pete. We also have a son, Ryan, around somewhere. He’s thirteen.’

      ‘Kelly and Ryan are most welcome, too. I’ll leave you to your unpacking, and see you later, then.’

      ‘Seems like a nice chap,’ Pete said, after Ali had closed the door. ‘It’ll be good to get to know a neighbour so quickly.’

      Kelly went back upstairs. The new neighbour seemed nice, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go round to his drinks party this evening. Sounded a bit dull. She was barely in her bedroom when the doorbell rang again. This time it must be Matt! She raced down the stairs, almost tripping on a loose corner of carpet on the half landing, and got to the door just as her mother was opening it. It was Matt. She launched herself into his arms before he was even over the threshold.

      ‘Steady on! What a welcome. Hi, Ali. Settling in OK?’

      ‘Hi, Matt. Yes, thanks. Lots of unpacking to do, but we’ll get there. Tea?’

      ‘No, Mum. We’ll be going out in a few minutes,’ Kelly said.

      ‘Er, no thanks then, Ali. Kells, can I at least have a tour before we go out? I can’t wait to see the house. It’s huge!’

      ‘OK, a quick one, though. I’m desperate to get down to the beach.’ Kelly took him by the hand and dragged him on a whistle-stop tour of the downstairs. ‘Living room. Dining room, though I think it’s going to be more of a library cum playroom cum office, whatever. Kitchen. Dad’s already done that up. Big enough to have a table and eat in. There’s a coal shed out there. Mum wants it converted to a utility room. Downstairs loo under the stairs.’

      She pulled him upstairs. ‘Ryan’s room, Mum and Dad’s room. Bathroom, spare room. My room.’

      ‘It’s big!’ Matt stepped inside and spun around.

      ‘Ryan’s is bigger.’

      ‘This is way nicer than your old room. I like it!’

      ‘What? Seriously? With this hideous wallpaper?’

      ‘Better than Barbie. And look at the size, the space and hey, the view!’ He crossed to the window and gazed out at the garden.

      ‘A view of the coal shed roof.’

      ‘And that oak tree at the end of the garden. Love it!’

      Kelly grinned. His enthusiasm was infectious. She put her arms around him from behind and nuzzled her face into his back. ‘Dad’s going to decorate it soon. I’m going to have cream walls and aubergine curtains, with some hot-pink accessories. It’ll be gorgeous.’

      ‘Like its inhabitant, then.’ He twisted around to face her, and put his arms around her waist.

      ‘Charmer.’ She reached up and kissed him, full on the mouth.

      ‘Hey, slow down. Your mum and dad are in the house! Thought you wanted to go to the beach?’

      ‘I do. Let me grab my bikini and stuff and we’ll go.’ She let go of him and started rummaging in the drawers she’d so recently filled, looking for her beach gear.

      ‘You’ve got a sink in your room.’

      ‘You’re so observant.’

      ‘Useful.’

      ‘Horrible. I want Dad to take it out. Look at the peeling wallpaper around it!’ Kelly grabbed a loose corner of paper above the skirting board and pulled. The paper came away in a huge long strip to halfway up the wall.

      Matt gasped. ‘God, you’ll get in trouble for that!’

      ‘No, I won’t. It’s all got to come off soon anyway.’ She tore another strip upwards, screwed up the paper and stuffed it in her bin.

      ‘Hey, there’s something written on the wall, here.’ Matt moved closer to get a better look. ‘A love heart—how sweet! What’s it say? Joanne, no wait, Joan loves Jack. Aw! Joan and Jack. Wonder who they were? Give us a pencil, Kells. I’ll add our names—Kelly 4 Matt, hey? What do you think, babe?’

      Kelly felt a shiver go down her spine. Joan, Jack. Who were they, indeed? One of them presumably lived in this bedroom before her, and had written this on the wall. Mum had said that her great-aunt Betty had lived here alone for fifty years, so it had to be before then, unless it was a visitor. But a visitor wouldn’t write on the wall. It had to be someone who’d lived here. Joan, whoever she was, was probably dead by now. A picture flashed into her mind of a young girl, her own age but from a time way back, with blonde СКАЧАТЬ