The CBB :: View topic

#1: The Parcel Author: Liss, Location: Richmond

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 11:16 am

Carey Howard struggled with an assortment of bags as she unlocked her front door, jiggling the stubborn lock impatiently. Eventually it gave way and the door flew open, revealing the reassuring sight of her hallway. She flung the bags down, slammed closed the door, and stripped off her coat, only to stop and heave a sigh of irritation as she noticed the red slip that had been posted through the door. Casting coat and scarf onto the laundry-box-cum-hall-seat, she picked it up. The parcel, delivered at 10.24 (how absurdly exact) could not be put through the letter box because it was (a) needed signing for; (b) was too big. Neither was marked. A scribble in the corner informed Carey, however, that the parcel in question was currently residing in the recycling bin. Lovely. The fate of this parcel, had today been the recycling collection day, clearly was of no interest to the postman. Hardly surprising, thought Carey, as she opened the door again, given that, in her opinion, his IQ was less than that of next door’s cat.

She tromped bad-temperedly round the side of the house, wrenched open the bin, and glared at the parcel. It, being a parcel, did not glare back, but merely sat there, unspeaking and belabelled. As, in fact, you would expect from a parcel. Carey bent over and pulled it out. It was more or less the size of a box-file which closer examination back indoors proved it to be.

Sitting at the kitchen table, cup of tea at her elbow, Carey inspected the box file. It was grey and mottled, in the best box file tradition, with a green fabric spine and an old-fashioned label, that may once have said ‘Mining Reports 1962’ on it, but had long since been rubbed almost blank. Viewed from every angle, it appeared to be nothing more or less than a box file.

Carey opened it. It was almost empty, save for a few papers, and she wondered why it had required the use of a box file, when surely a stiffened envelope would have done almost as well. But no matter. That was hardly important.

There was a white envelope on the top. It had ‘Carey’ printed neatly on it. Carey opened it. That was the next logical move, after all. There was a folded piece of paper inside, the sort of thin blue paper you bought from post offices. This was typed, not handwritten, but skewed, as if the paper had gone into the printer at a funny angle. It said simply ‘You are not who you think you are.’ That was all.

How odd, thought Carey. She put it to one side. She picked out the next piece of paper from the box file. It was a photograph of a pretty girl, taken in the 1970s from the look of her dress. She was beautiful, in fact. But entirely unknown. She picked up another photograph, this time of a house – no, a chalet. It was older than the picture of the girl, in black and white rather than colour. She flipped it over so she could read the back. It merely said ‘1957’. That would account for the black and white. Thinking about, she checked the back of the colour photo, but it was blank. The only think left in the file was a scrap of paper, torn from a larger sheet. It was old as well, and looked to be some kind of invoice for stationery supplies. Since it was made out to Acorn Copper Mines Ltd, Carey presumed it had always lived in the box file.

She wasn’t who she thought she was. Well, everyone knew that.

Last edited by Liss on Wed Apr 12, 2006 11:33 am; edited 4 times in total

#2: Author: Mia, Location: London

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 11:19 am

Thanks Liss. I'm intrigued!

#3: Author: Pat, Location: Doncaster

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 12:04 pm

Thanks Liss. Glad you're posting this here.

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

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 12:18 pm

*completely hooked and wanting to know more*

Thanks, Liss

#5: Author: JackieJ, Location: Kingston upon Hull

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 12:27 pm

I am also intrigued Liss, although am now confuzzled 'cause I thought I'd seen this on your LJ and now cannot find it... *wails*

JackieJ

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

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 12:34 pm

I saw it on your lj and am really pleased to see it here too! Very Happy

#7: Author: Kate, Location: Ireland

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 12:41 pm

Very intriguing, Liss! I saw some of this on your LJ, but kept missing bits, so it's like reading it for the first time!

#8: Re: The Parcel Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 12:58 pm

Liss wrote:

It, being a parcel, did not glare back,

I love this line! Laughing

#9: Author: CatherineS, Location: Smalltown, West of Scotland

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 1:01 pm

Looking forward to reading more of this, thanks! CatherineS

#10: Author: Kat,

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 2:24 pm

Yay! Thanks Liss Very Happy

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

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 7:36 pm

OOoh! Excellent!
I did read this on your LJ Liss, but I also think I missed a bit somewhere!

#12: Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 11:05 pm

Oooooh yay!

Thanks Liss

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

Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 11:37 pm

Thank you Liss - fascinating!

#14: Author: Liss, Location: Richmond

Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 9:40 am

For a couple of days, Carey didn’t give much thought to the parcel. It sat on the counter in the kitchen, neatly stacked with her cookery books and a box of orange biscuits that she didn’t like. She didn’t know who had sent it; her address had been printed onto a neat white label, and the postmark was smudged and faint. There had been no return address.

But then Saturday came and, after spending an hour cleaning, and another ironing, Carey found herself at a loose end. She went on the internet and Googled all the clues for her crossword that she couldn’t otherwise answer and then, from a simple urge to look up something else, searched for ‘Acorn Copper Mines Ltd’. Nothing obvious came up. But Carey’s interest was now piqued. After all, there had once been an Acorn Copper Mines Ltd, and surely some remnant of it remained to be found. She reached for the box file, and checked the scrap of paper. Part of an address could be seen: Devizes. She added that to her search criteria, and looked again. This time, at the end of the second page of results, she found a mention. Acorn Copper Mines had undergone several buy-outs, ending up the property of Aon, an American company. The mines themselves had been closed in the early 90s, though. There was nothing left of the company. The doorbell rang, and Carey went to answer it, closing down the computer.

On Sunday, Carey wondered again why someone would have sent her those things. It was very unusual. She wasn’t what people thought she was, that was true, of course. But some people did know. She could tell, when they looked at her. When their voices lowered as she approached; when their eyes slid away from hers. Of course they knew.

The following Friday, Carey wrote to the London office of Aon, and asked about Acorn Copper Mines Ltd. Two weeks later, she received a reply. Acorn Copper Mines Ltd had been bought in 1987. Their office had been in Church Road, in Devizes. No, unfortunately, they did not have any information about staff members. Any further help, please don’t hesitate to ask. Carey didn’t really think they could do anything much to help.

In May, Carey took some holiday, and went to Devizes. In the library, she explained about Acorn Copper Mines Ltd, and an archivist showed her where to find records about it. They had owned a building on Church Road between 1946 and 1992. After that it had been sold to a company of solicitors. Acorn Copper Mines, before it had been sold to its first company, in 1976, had been run by Mr Harris and Mr Williams, both long since dead.

“My mum worked there!” Linda Robertson had been in the library getting books for her grandson’s homework, and had stopped by the archivist’s office to borrow some paper, as it was closer to the children’s section than the main issuing desk. She had grey hair and a plastic mac. “Acorn Mines – she worked for them for ages, back before the war even. They weren’t in Church Road, then; she wasn’t from round here. All her life, she worked for them. Died back in ’89, God rest her soul. Others? Wouldn’t know, love, I’m afraid. Auntie Marjorie, she worked for ‘em too, but she died donkey’s years ago.”

Carey thanked them both, and left. But Linda followed her, and caught her arm, panting slightly.

“Just remembered, where Mum was from. Taverton, that was it. It’s about an hour from here, not far really. That was where she worked with the mines, as well, in the office, like.”

“Thank you,” said Carey. The next day she drove to Taverton.

#15: Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries

Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 11:35 am

*getting excited*

Thank you Liss

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

Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 12:31 pm

*also excited*

Thanks, Liss Very Happy

#17: Author: Kat,

Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 5:49 pm

yay for new Liss drabble!

#18: Author: Róisín, Location: Gaillimh, Eire

Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 5:50 pm

*excited too* Thank you Liss, looking forward to more Very Happy

#19: Author: aitchemelle, Location: West Sussex

Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 6:19 pm

Thank you Liss! I too saw this on LJ but never quite caught up!
*bounces excitedly*

#20: Author: Liss, Location: Richmond

Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 8:48 am

There hadn’t ever been an Acorn Copper Mines Ltd in Taverton, the archivist was quite sure. There would be a record, she said. Look, the businesses were registered. Maybe Linda had been wrong, Carey thought. But then she saw that there *had* been a mining company in Taverton, called the Corah Mine. It had closed in 1940, and never re-opened. Carey had kept notes, though, and the mine was the same as that belonging to Acorn Copper Mines.

The Corah Mine company had had its offices on a residential street. It had bought them in 1933, from Mr Richard Bettany, whose address was given as a forestry company in India. The house had been sold by the owner of the Corah Mine in 1947, and had changed hands many times since then. There was a solicitor listed on the land registry papers, but the archivist told Carey that he had practised alone, and died shortly after the war.

It was a dead end, Carey could quite see that. Whoever had sent her the papers might have had something to do with a long-defunct mining company, or they might not. With all the closures and sell-outs, that box-file could have been obtained by almost anyone, probably.

She sat in the park, and looked at the two pictures. The girl was wearing a yellow dress, and had long dark hair. She had blue eyes and fair skin, and long legs, and was leaning against a tree. The picture of the chalet was out of focus, and showed a solid-looking door with a wide lintel, and the traditional flower-laden balcony. There was nothing identifiable in either picture if you didn’t happen to know where they were taken already.

There hadn’t been much point in coming to Taverton, really. The box-file had been marked with the date 1962, so it was from when the company had already been in Devizes for many years. Maybe her sub-conscious had wanted a holiday. She laughed, then stopped, her hand over her mouth, because really it wasn’t allowed. Not for her.

Carey went shopping, and bought a t-shirt and a book, and then went into a gift shop. Did she want something to remind her of Taverton, asked the girl. Carey didn’t really, but didn’t like to say, so she bought a book by a local publishers. Ever so good, it was, said the girl. It was a servant’s diary, really old, who lived in Taverton years ago. People loved it, said the girl, so Carey bought it, more to be polite than because of any desire to read it.

That night there wasn’t much on the television, so Carey was reduced to reading the book. It was by a woman called Hannah, who had been a cook in service since after the First World War. It wasn’t particularly interesting; Hannah didn’t have a light touch with the pen. But the story had a kind of morbid interest to it – the man who lost his wife and sent his daughter off to live with his mother, only to remarry years later, summoning the daughter and not telling the new wife.

That wasn’t acceptable behaviour, Carey knew that. And it seems the new wife didn’t like the girl very much. Carey knew all about that, but the girl was real, so she didn’t quite understand. But then she read about how, when the girl was 14, Miss Bettany took her away for her school in Austria, and Carey wondered whether Austria had chalets as well as Switzerland.

#21: Author: keren, Location: Israel

Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 8:59 am

Most intreuiging (how do you spell that?)

#22: Author: Liss, Location: Richmond

Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 9:23 am

*g* intriguing

#23: Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK

Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 11:37 am

All very mysterious! Thanks for this Liss!

#24: Author: Kat,

Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:36 pm

The Cochranes!

Thanks Liss Smile

#25: Author: aitchemelle, Location: West Sussex

Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 4:57 pm

ooooh *bounces excitedly*
This is really intruiging Liss (sp?) I can't wait to read the next bit

#26: Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent

Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 5:06 pm

Thanks, Liss. This is really brilliant so far. I look forward to seeing what the connection is between the Cochranes and the girl.

#27: Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries

Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 8:23 pm

Curioser and curioser.

Thanks Liss

#28: Author: Liss, Location: Richmond

Posted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 12:51 pm

There was more Googling the following day, and Carey found out that Miss Bettany had founded the Chalet School, now an internationally-renowned girls’ boarding school, with branches in England, Switzerland and Austria. Looking at the pictures on the school’s website, Carey felt a thrill of discovery. Surely there must be a connection here? The picture of the girl, the chalet, the scrap of paper from the mining company – surely it couldn’t be merely chance that she received them?

Carey wondered whether she should go and see Mrs Howard, and ask her if she knew what it meant. But even if Mrs Howard knew everything, Carey couldn’t bring herself to speak to her. It was cowardice, of course, and showed poor manners, but what else could you expect from someone like Carey?

So she decided she would go to the school, instead. The one in England was the most obvious choice – Carey looked at the pictures, a beautiful building, Glendower House – but the chalet wasn’t anywhere in England. Austria, that’s where she would go. She bought a plane ticket, her finger shaking ever so slightly. She had never been abroad before; had never spent so much money on something that wasn’t an absolute essential. The school was located on the Tiernsee; Carey bought a ticket to Innsbruck; there was a train service thence to a place called Seespitz, which was only a short walk from the school. She booked a room in a hotel, stuttering on the phone with her schoolgirl German, finally relapsing with relief into English as the girl on the other end took her measure.

On the plane from Gatwick, Carey marvelled at her temerity in coming so far. After all, what was she going to find? Probably nothing she didn’t already know. Perhaps her…her mother… was something… No! That kind of thinking would get her nowhere; she knew what kind of person that woman had been. Mrs Howard had made sure of that. Which, when you thought about, had been kind of her. It wouldn’t have been fair, really, to let Carey think otherwise. Always best to know the truth, then it couldn’t hurt you by leaping out, unexpectedly.

At the Kron Prinz Karl, Carey was settled into her room, and she ordered a meal. There’s a school round here, isn’t there? she asked, and the maid agreed, and pointed out of the window. It’s over there, she said, through the trees; you can’t see it awfully well.

Carey dressed smartly in the morning, and walked up the long drive, pausing at the entrance. It was quiet, but she imagined she could hear the hum of voices, almost making the building vibrate. She knocked on the door. It was answered by a woman in a neat suit, who smiled and looked at her enquiringly. Was it possible to see the Headmistress, asked Carey, smiling in return. She explained hurriedly, confusedly – her niece…her brother…looking for a good school…business in Europe… The woman nodded, and gestured her inside. Miss Trevor would be able to see her in half an hour; would she like a tour of the school beforehand?

#29: Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries

Posted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 2:50 pm

Yay she's at the school (and the end of where I got to, so this is all new to me from now!)

Thanks Liss

#30: Author: aitchemelle, Location: West Sussex

Posted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 5:22 pm

Thanks Liss Very Happy

#31: Author: Kat,

Posted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 5:22 pm

Thanks Liss... although still wondering about the mystery. Are you going to enlighten us soon? Very Happy

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

Posted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 7:49 pm

*still wondering*

Thanks, Liss

#33: Author: Liss, Location: Richmond

Posted: Wed Apr 12, 2006 11:31 am

Ceridwen Lytton looked at the woman beside her with carefully veiled curiosity. She had shown many potential parents round the school throughout her career here. Mr Lytton was in the diplomatic service, and Ceridwen had been at boarding school since she was eleven. With her good manners and pretty face, not to mention a family connection with the school – “My grandmother was a pupil here,” she explained, “during the War,” – she was often chosen for this particular task. That being so, she was now quite adept at sizing people up.

Not a day over 30, she summed up quickly, unmarried, bloody nervous about something, nice clothes but not particularly expensive – not much money then, cuz she’s dressed up for it. Brother must have much more – it’s not like this place is cheap. Wonder why she got sent out to do the legwork – maybe she’s just on holiday here and it seemed like a plan.

“How old is your niece?” she asked, curiously. Miss Howard blushed, and looked uncomfortable.

“T-twelve,” she replied after a pause. “She’s just had her birthday,” she added. Her expression seemed to be one of perpetual unhappiness, and Ceridwen felt sorry for her. She smiled.

“I’m seventeen,” she said, in a friendly way. “I’ve got another year to do my IB, then hopefully it’s off to university for me. I’ll probably go back to England for it – there are some good places on the continent, of course, but it’d be nice to be England.”

“Oh to be in England, now that spring is here,” quoted Miss Howard unexpectedly, and Ceridwen looked at her, surprised.

“Something like that, I suppose. Here are the Splasheries, Miss Howard – the cloakrooms, by any other name. Everyone gets a peg and a locker, for the outdoors stuff. Skiing togs and what have you are kept in lockers in the Gym.”

“Do you do a lot of winter sports?” asked Miss Howard, and Ceridwen nodded vigorously.

“Loads! Skiing and skating and tobogganing, all sorts of things! They build a rink out where the tennis and netball courts are, because we can’t use them anyway when the weather’s bad. Back when the school was first here, I think they used to skate on the lake, but of course we’re not allowed any more. But the rink is huge, and we do figure skating – Herr Braun comes to coach us – and ice hockey, and sometimes speed skating. We’ve even had a couple of people in the winter Olympics,” she added proudly. They moved on.

“This corridor leads to another building, but it’s where the kids are, so your niece wouldn’t have much to do with them. The form rooms are this way – Upper IIIa is here,” she gestured at a door, and waited as Miss Howard glanced in, seeing, no doubt, the well-behaved lines of the Upper III, who were… making an unlikely amount of noise. Ceridwen sighed, and touched Miss Howard’s arm, so that she drew back from the door. She rolled her eyes at the visitor, and smiled. “Excuse me a moment,” she said, then opened the door, and poked her head round. Confident that she wasn’t breaking into a rather more lively lesson than usual, and there in fact wasn’t a mistress present, she walked to the large desk at the front of the room and waited, arms crossed, for the girls to notice her. It didn’t take long, and before two minutes had passed they were silent, sitting exactly as they should be. Ceridwen raised an eyebrow, and demanded simply, “Explain, please.” There were a good deal of exchanged glances, and one of the girls reluctantly stood up. Her badge proclaimed her to be the form prefect, and Ceridwen recognised her as being the younger sister of Lucy Taylor, one of the fifth formers.

“Mrs Morris went to get some thing from the library,” she said nervously. “She’ll be back in a minute.”

“So you thought you’d take this opportunity to make as much noise as possible? Well, I suppose we can’t expect much more from infants like you,” and the girls bridled, entirely predictably, thought Ceridwen, who had seen that particular ploy work like a charm on many an occasion, “but we would appreciate it if you would at least *try* to be a little better behaved – we can’t watch you all the time, you know. Now, I’m showing a visitor round the school and hopefully you haven’t put her off altogether. Can I trust you to behave yourselves until Mrs Morris comes back?” There was much nodding, and the younger Miss Taylor nodded with them. “Yes, Ceridwen, we promise.” Ceridwen nodded back, smiled, and withdrew.

“Sorry about that,” she said to Miss Howard.

#34: Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent

Posted: Wed Apr 12, 2006 11:41 am

Thanks, Liss. It's great to see the school in Austria.

#35: Author: Jennie, Location: Cambridgeshire

Posted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 1:18 pm

Thanks, Liss, so much mystery! Is this Grizel's daughter we're reading about?

#36: Author: JustJen, Location: sitting on the steps

Posted: Fri Apr 14, 2006 1:39 pm

I'm really enjoying this story

#37: Author: Kat,

Posted: Fri Apr 14, 2006 1:40 pm

Ta Squeenie!

#38: Author: Tara, Location: Malvern, Worcestershire

Posted: Fri Apr 14, 2006 10:44 pm

Oh, I like Ceridwen! Enjoying this a lot, Liss.

#39: Author: Guest,

Posted: Sun Apr 16, 2006 1:39 pm

this is really good
thanks liss
please continue!!!!

#40: Author: Liane, Location: Manchester

Posted: Sun Apr 16, 2006 3:29 pm

Thanks Liss. May we have some more please?

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