The CBB :: View topic

#1: Times Past Author: Liss sans Admin Hat,

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 5:25 pm

Louise Mathieson strolled round the lakeside, breathing in deeply. The air was fresh and clear, a distinct improvement on London. Around the lake, the mountains rose majestically, their snow-topped peaks jostling for space, while the lake itself, in turns blue and turquoise, glistening in the sun, was filled with people on boats, the steamer that went from point to point around the lake, and those mad enough to have paraglided off the top of one of the mountains.

“I wouldn’t mind a go at that some time,” mused her companion, and she shot him a laughing look.

“Yeah, right. I can just see myself explaining to Dr McCririck why his registrar hasn’t come back from his holidays: you see, it’s like this. He jumped off a mountain. That’d go down really well, Tom.” Tom Fraser shrugged good-naturedly.

“I think it’d be fun. They’re mostly landing in the fields around, anyway.” He gestured vaguely. “Go on, Lou, you know you want to!”

“I don’t know anything of the sort!” she replied briskly. “I s’pose you can if you want; I can’t stop you.” Tom slipped his arm round her shoulders, and hugged her to him.

“Well, we can see. We’ve loads to do while we’re here anyway. Innsbruck tomorrow, right?”

“Uh huh. I thought we might do Salzburg too, maybe. It might be a bit too far, though – I’m going to ask at the tourist information place.”

The couple walked on, until they reached the end of the hamlet, and the road wound between mountain and lake, towards Seespitz. Tom checked his watch, and nodded his head in the direction from which they had come.

“We’d better get back,” he said. “It’s going on for seven, and we’ve still got to get dinner. We’ve been travelling all day, and we’d better get an early night if we’re off to Innsbruck tomorrow.” Louise nodded, acquiescing, and they turned to go back, the lake once more spread before them. She sighed, the beauty of the scene seeming to seep into her.

“It’s so gorgeous, isn’t it?” she said softly. Tom glanced down at her, smiling, then surveyed the scene.

“Yep,” he agreed laconically. “Not sure I’m quite so keen on the village-y bit, though,” he continued, waving a hand towards the chalets filling the hamlet. “Rather on the touristy side. And did you see the sign on that hotel we passed? Apparently Gunter will be present with his accordion this evening. A cultural highlight.” He winced as Louise poked him in the ribs.

“Ha ha,” she said, her voice, surprisingly, devoid of humour. “Who cares about all that? Look at the lake! Look at the mountains! It’s amazing!” Tom nodded, conceding her point.

“You’ve got that right. How on earth did you find this place, anyway? I’d never heard of it till you said.” They were walking back towards the main tourist drag, now, arm in arm.

“I think my grandmother may have come here once. I found a bunch of postcards and that sort of thing when we were clearing out the house last year. It looked really nice; well, as much as it could in black and white. Googled a bit, and here we are.” Tom’s forehead crinkled.

“Your grandmother – was she the famous one?” Louise laughed.

“Gran? You’ve got to be kidding me! She left school and got married, more or less. I don’t know that much about her, really; her parents died when she was pretty young, I think, and her sister – she was the famous one, apparently, God knows why – emigrated to Australia. At least, I think so.”

“Ah, I’m sensing a deep interest in genealogy,” murmured Tom, dodging out of the way as another poke was threatened. “I thought you had about a million great-grandparents and what have you.”

“Oddly enough,” replied Louise sweetly, “I only have eight great-grandparents. A fairly standard number, I was lead to believe by my lengthy and expensive medical education.”

“Oh, see your wit,” said Tom, not seeming particularly abashed. “What was with the hundred and two funerals you went to last year, then?”

“Dad’s family. And Grandad’s. Just not Gran’s.”

“Ah.” They walked in silence for a moment, then: “What’s that, over there?” Louise looked up. A wide path ran up from the road, away from the lake, with a somewhat poor excuse for a gate across it. Beyond it was a cluster of trees, unusual on the rather open plane of the hamlet. A hint of building could be seen through the trees; a suggestion of wall and window, nothing more.

“Dunno. Hotel?”

“Maybe. They’re not going out of their way to advertise themselves, are they?” Tom crossed the road, and approached the gate. A sign, rather weathered was nailed to the top bar, and he squinted at it. “God, my German’s rubbish!” he said disconsolately. Louise grinned, and came up behind him.

“Let me see,” she ordered, nudging him to one side. He stepped away, and she swiftly read the faded lettering. “It’s the water board,” she said after a moment. “At least, they own the chalet.” Tom leaned over the gate, craning his neck to see down the lane to where the chalet stood, cloaked in the thick trees.

“They’re not keeping it in very good nick,” he commented then, with a quick look around, he vaulted neatly over the gate.

“Thomas!” hissed Louise, “what on God’s green earth d’you think you’re doing? It’s private!” And an irate finger stabbed at the wooden sign. Tom waved back at her, proceeding cautiously up the drive. After about fifty yards, he turned and came jogging back.

“S’okay,” he said, grinning. “It all looks pretty abandoned; I don’t think anyone’s been here for months – even years. Come on!” He pulled her hand, but Louise resisted.

“I don’t want to get bloody arrested for trespassing!” Tom continued to pull at her hand.

“Who’s going to arrest us? Ten-to-one there isn’t a policeman for twenty miles! There’s no-one here. Don’t you want to explore?” Louise hesitated, torn. Of course exploring a mysterious abandoned chalet would be fun, but it was probably illegal, and there might be tramps or damp rot or drug dealers. “It’ll be just like the Famous Five, or something,” Tom wheedled, and she gave in, climbing over the gate.

“Your maths is pants,” she said, swinging herself over the other side. “Well, come on, then.” They headed off together, hand in hand.

The drive to the water board chalet was not particularly long, and it didn’t take five minutes to reach the chalet itself. It stood alone and rather desolate, tall, dark trees seeming to press in on it from every side, even blotting out the westering sun. Louise shivered, and rubbed her arms.

“Well, this is gloomy,” she said, glancing around. The chalet itself was in a state of some disrepair, and seemed a curious combination of old-style Austrian chalet with its wide wooden balconies, and more modern bits built randomly at the ends. The shutters were mostly closed on the windows, but many of them had wooden louvers broken off, and the paint was so worn it was hard to see what its original colour had been. The path leading to the door was overgrown with weeds, and the front door itself seemed to be half missing, though it was so boarded up that it was hard to tell.

They wandered closer, and Tom peered in one window near the ground which had lost half a shutter. “Too dark,” he said, drawing back. “Looks like a lumber room, maybe.” Louise nodded.

“Probably, down there. It’d be the cellars, anyway. Come on, let’s walk round.” They suited action to word, and proceeded to walk round the building. The next wall along was modern, and the windows were higher up, and better secured, but along the back Louise and Tom found the old part of the chalet again, and this time, there was a door, unboarded. Tom wiggled the handle experimentally. To his vast astonishment, the door opened. He stepped back, surprised, and Louise grabbed his arm.

“Shit!” she squeaked. “There must be someone here! Come on, we’d better leg it.” She pulled urgently, but Tom freed himself, and peered round the door.

“I don’t think so,” he said consideringly. “There wasn’t any sign that anyone had been here, and the ground’s fairly damp. Maybe they just forgot to lock it – whoever owns it doesn’t seem to care much.”

“But what about trespassers?”

“Who’s going to trespass round here? I don’t think it’s top of the list of holiday activities for those umpteen fat German tourists we saw this afternoon.” He pushed open the door. “You coming?” He stepped inside, softly, despite his words awaiting some sign that there was another person in the building. Nothing. Louise rolled her eyes and stepped in after him. No way was Tom going to get all the excitement!

The building was cold and dead. Dark by now, too. It smelled of damp and mildew and decay. Before them, leading to the rest of the chalet, were glass doors, beautifully engraved. Louise pushed ahead of Tom, and brushed her fingers against the pattern. “It’s lovely,” she said quietly, half afraid to speak louder for fear of waking the house. “This must have been something before the water board, you know. They wouldn’t go to this trouble.” She grasped the handle, and turned. It stuck firm, and she frowned, jiggling it, but to no effect. “It’s locked,” she said, disappointed. Tom knelt to look more closely, and shook his head.

“No; there isn’t a lock,” he said. “I think the door fitting must have rusted together or something.” He put his hand over Louise’s and pulled sharply. There was the sound of scraping metal, but the door held firm.

“Well, that’s that,” said Louise, feeling obscurely forlorn. “We can’t get in any further.” She frowned, confused, as Tom grinned at her. “What?” He inclined his head to one side and up, and she peered round him. A slow smile spread across her face. There were stairs.

“They might not be safe,” she said cautiously, all too aware of dry rot and wet rot and wood rot, and the simple passage of time. “I don’t fancy being stuck here with a broken leg, thank you!” Tom raised an eyebrow, and she relented. “Yeah, yeah, come on, then.” They ventured up the wide, shallow steps, pausing every time the wood groaned, but eventually reaching the upper floor safely, although a series of broken floorboards on the landing hardly inspired confidence.

This time the top of the stairs gave way to a corridor, with no doors to impede them. All the doors stood open, and Louise peered into the first one. It was empty, except for a metal desk lamp in the middle of the floor, its flex coiled patiently around the base. The next was similarly empty, though the third room held more promise: three desk chairs stacked neatly, the desk itself against a far wall, three a rather dilapidated box pushed underneath.

Louise entered, moving quickly as she felt a floorboard shift beneath her foot. Tom followed suit, avoiding that patch of floor. Kneeling down, she pulled out the box, wincing a little as she touched the damp, moulding cardboard. Flipping open the top, she pulled out the papers, but they proved to be nothing more than old reports on the water levels, laboriously typewritten on yellow paper that felt like mush in Louise’s hand. She put them back in, and shoved the box back under the desk. Tom blew a raspberry.

“What a bust! I was hoping for hidden treasure at the worst!” Louise grinned, and let him pull her up.

“Yeah, that was always the most likely outcome. Come on, let’s check out the other rooms, then I’m dying for some dinner.”

A number of small room were next, most of them empty or housing the remains of long-defunct office furniture. One had a table with a giant fish tank on it, partly filled with gravel, and smelling unpleasantly. They backed hurriedly into the corridor, Tom pulling the door to behind him.

“This is the last one,” announced Louise, pushing the final door on the corridor wide open. The room was larger than the others, and completely empty. Her face fell: despite the unlikelihood, a part of her had hoped to find something interesting. “Gosh. An empty room. Colour me stunned.” Tom leant against the door frame, and peered in, then humphed. Louise patted him. “No hidden treasure for Tommy today,” she crooned, then giggled as he glared at her. “Come on, idiot!” She stepped out of the room, swinging the door behind her, then looked up in surprise as Tom’s hand came up to stop it. “What is it?”

“There’s a cupboard,” said Tom, pulling her into the room, and closing the door. A cupboard it was indeed, hidden from sight when the door stood open. It was built into the wall, and the thick wooden door stood a little ajar. There was no handle, but Louise slid a finger into the space and pulled it open, struggling a little against the stiff hinges. Eventually it opened completely. It was almost dark now, but they could both see the trunk clearly, pushed into the cupboard and forgotten. They exchanged glances, then Tom crouched down and grabbed one strap.

“Weighs a bloody tonne!” he puffed, dragging it out. The top was thick with dust, and Louise wiped it off with her sleeve, trying not to notice that she had just ruined a perfectly good jumper.

“The Chalet School, Tiern See,” she read aloud. Then, in smaller letters, “Alixe von Elsen.” She looked at Tom, puzzled. “A school?” Tom shrugged.

“Why not? Go on, open it.” The trunk was clarted together, but Louise eventually prised off the lid. It was filled with paper, and Tom grunted. “No wonder it was so heavy!” Louise contorted herself from kneeling to sitting cross-legged, and began to gently lift out the top layer of papers. There were hundreds of items: pages from text books, poetry, exercise books, letters. Not just Alixe von Elsen’s, whoever she was. The handwriting was always different, the pages ranging from simple Algebra to complicated Latin. The languages were various: English, German and French dominated, but there was Italian, Norwegian, something that looked like it came from eastern Europe.

“It must have been a school,” murmured Louise, leafing through them quickly, ignoring the damp and mildew. “A girls’ school, look!” She waved a letter at Tom, then carried on, “And it was ages ago, too. This letter says May 1934.”

“The Chalet School,” said Tom, lifting up the lid of the trunk to read from it. “Must have been English – even I know that the German for school is something different,” he added, as Louise looked at him curiously. “Bet you don’t find anything in there after 1938,” he said, nodding towards the open trunk.

“Why?” she demanded, but Tom laughed.

“God, talk about giving doctors a bad reputation,” he said. “Don’t you know anything, Lou?”

“Yeah, I know, the war,” she said, snappishly. “It just took me a moment. Don’t laugh, Tom.” He stopped, though continued to grin as Louise excavated more of the trunk. Eyebrows raised, she withdrew a rusted harmonica, then gave a yell, and pulled out a handful of photographs. “Jackpot!”

Tom sat down beside her, and they flicked through the photos. Some were marked on the back, mostly in English.

Joey and the Robin – two girls leaning against a fence, the lake behind them. The elder girl, in her middle teens, was tall and slim, short dark hair wild about a pointed face. The younger – much younger – girl had her arm round the other’s waist, a sweetly pretty face surrounded by a halo of curls.

Gill and her fortune – Another teenaged girl, black hair in two plaits, sitting in the middle of a ring of cards.

Gisela mit der Blumen – Waving hair pinned up, a shy smile…

SSM – a cluster of girls, under a group of pine trees…

Madame et David – a studio portrait, mother and son…

Amy and Rob – two little girls, one identifiable as ‘the Robin’ in the first photograph; the second slightly taller, thin with light hair…

(Louise frowned, memory stirring…)

1929 – a group shot, women, this time – mistresses…

The Annexe - Spring – another group shot, several girls, including the fair child, and another in a wheelchair…

King Carol – a tall man, with a soldierly build and a kind smile…

Bianca and Luigia di Ferrera – formal, two girls, clearly sisters…

Margia and Amy Stevens – another formal picture, two girls, sisters again…

(Louise’s hand wavered. She knew them…)

There were more, dozens more, girls and mistresses, snow fights and rowing races on the lake. Girls were children in one picture, older with their hair up in the next. Years of a school caught in a few handfuls of camera film.

“Wait! Go back!” Louise’s voice was insistent, and Tom looked at her.

“What?” Irritated by his slowness, she leant over, and shuffled through the photographs they had seen, stacked neatly in a pile. “Oi! Louise! They were… what are you looking for?” She passed him a photo, still intent on finding the others. “‘The Annexe’? What is this?” She sat up again, and pointed at a face.

“There! That’s her!” Tom inspected the photograph more closely. There were two older girls – women – one with smooth blond hair and a serene expression; the other with darker, curlier hair, smiling pleasantly. There were the girls – and the fair girl that Louise had pointed out, only a child. Louise thrust another photo at him: ‘Amy and Rob’ – the fair girl again. ‘Margia and Amy Stevens’ – the same girl, a little older, with a sister who was older yet.

“Amy. That’s her. That’s Gran.”

“Amy Stevens,” Tom read out, looking at the picture more closely. “Are you sure?” Louise nodded.

“Mmhmm. Definitely. I’ve seen photos of her when she was a kid – this is her.” Louise didn’t look much like her grandmother, Tom thought – or not like the child her grandmother had been. Her great-aunt, though – that was a different matter. The eyes were the same, the tilt of the chin. The…

“Margia Stevens!” he exclaimed suddenly, his brain suddenly making the connection. “She was famous!” Louise looked at him blankly, and he groaned. Honestly, did the girl know nothing about life outside medicine? “She was a pianist, Lou! Come on, even you must have heard of her! She was brilliant; you can still get recordings of the stuff she did. She’s…” he faltered. “She died, of course,” he said, awkwardly. “Years ago.” Louise shrugged.

“I know. Gran told me. It was before I was born, years before. She was really young.”

They were silent, their eyes drawn to the flurry of photographs lying on the floor.

“I never thought to ask her about her childhood,” said Louise, almost to herself. “It never occurred to me. She was probably here when the Nazis took over, you know – she was the right age. I never even thought to ask. Even when she said her sister was famous, I thought she was exaggerating, like old bids do.”

Tom put his arm round her, and hugged her tightly. “Come on, Lou,” he said gently. “Let’s put this lot away; we need to get going. I’ll talk to the tourist place in the morning, and we’ll try and find out about this place.” She rose, her knees protesting after the long period of sitting, and together they placed the papers back, all except the three photographs of Amy. Tom pushed the trunk back into the cupboard, but Louise lingered over the lid.

“I wonder what happened to Alixe?” she said.

THE END

-----
God, I need to go home!!!

#2: Author: Gem, Location: Saltash/Aberystwyth

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 6:00 pm

Lovely, Liss - thank you! Very Happy

#3: Author: Ally, Location: Jack Maynard's Dressing Room!!

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 6:05 pm

That was wonderful Liss, very inspired Very Happy

#4: Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 6:10 pm

Oh! Beautiful!

Thanks Liss

Liz

#5: Author: Helen P, Location: Crewe, Cheshire

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 7:17 pm

That's lovely!

Thankyou Liss. Very Happy

#6: Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 7:39 pm

That is wonderful Liss. So evocative and descriptive, and yet holding our attention perfectly. Did it come out of your Austria trip?

#7: Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 7:39 pm

Thanks Liss - lovely trip down memory lane. Like Louise and Tom.

#8: Author: Mia, Location: London

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 8:12 pm

Oh Liss that was brilliant! Thanks for posting it! Very Happy

#9: Author: Sarah_K, Location: St Albans

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 10:19 pm

That was great Liss, very atmospheric and slightly melancholic but really good.

#10: Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW

Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 11:05 pm

Lovely, Liss, very emotive and tinged with sadness.

#11: Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester

Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 8:22 am

I believe I already said it elsewhere, but thought I'm mention again how fascinating I found this piece, looking at it from that angle. And I love the description.

#12: Author: Nell, Location: London, England

Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 9:06 am

Lovely. I still like. Thank you Liss.

#13: Author: stealthing frances,

Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 10:19 am

Thank you, Liss. That was beatiful

#14: Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England

Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 11:38 am

Beautiful, Liss!

#15: Author: JoW, Location: Lincolnshire

Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 1:32 pm

I really enjoyed that. Thanks Liss

#16: Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!!

Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 5:43 pm

Absolutely amazing and very goosebump inducing!

#17: Author: Lyanne, Location: Ipswich, England

Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 7:50 pm

Quote:

I never even thought to ask.

I have got tears rolling down my cheeks. I've got one Grandparent left, and she's in hospital - and I don't know about her childhood or my other grandparents' childhoods - because I never even thought to ask either. Thank you Liss.

#18: Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US

Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 11:52 pm

Idly wonders whether Liss has been trespassing recently....

*would find walking away from trunk almost impossible*
...or would at least sneak back. How about Louise?

Thank you, Liss.

#19: Author: Liss sans Admin Hat,

Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 8:55 am

Kathy_S wrote:

Idly wonders whether Liss has been trespassing recently....

Nooo - wasn't allowed *sulks*. Certain people thought we might get into trouble *koff*xanthe*koff*!

And the engraved glass doors are real...

#20: Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks

Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 12:14 pm

thankyou Liss - that was beautiful

#21: Author: aitchemelle, Location: West Sussex

Posted: Sat Oct 08, 2005 12:02 pm

Thank you Liss. That was beautiful! Very Happy

#22: Author: RuthY, Location: Anyone's guess

Posted: Sun Oct 09, 2005 4:34 pm

Lovely, than you Liss, I really enjoyed it.

Ruth

#23: Author: Rosie, Location: Huntingdonshire/Bangor

Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2005 7:13 pm

Only just found this Liss, sorry!

Apart from the bitemarks I have left in my thumb from trying not to snort with laughter too loudly in a public computer room, I really, really enjoyed reading this. Knew we should have gone for more of an exploration...

#24: Author: Sophoife, Location: down under Down Under

Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2005 9:20 am

This is great Liss! Er, yes. What did happen to Alixe?

#25: Author: dackel, Location: Wolfenbuettel, Germany/Cambridge, England

Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2005 8:33 pm

For some reason SOME of the party didn't think snooping into a building where we had no right to be was the thing to do - but reading this, I almost wish we had!

Thanks, Liss, that was great!

#26: Author: Liss, Location: Harrow, London

Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2005 11:15 pm

Sophoife wrote:

This is great Liss! Er, yes. What did happen to Alixe?

I seem to remember that according to a short story EBD wrote for a newsletter, Alixe rather randomly ended up working for a TV company in London.

The CBB -> Ste Therese's House

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