It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries)

IT STARTED

WITH

A

HOUSE

By Beth
Prentice

Text copyright
Ó
2012 Beth
Prentice

All Rights
Reserved

Table
of Contents

Chapter1

Chapter2

Chapter3

Chapter4

Chapter5

Chapter6

Chapter7

Chapter8

Chapter9

Chapter10

Chapter11

Chapter12

Chapter13

Chapter14

Chapter15

Chapter16

Chapter17

Chapter18

Chapter19

Chapter20

Chapter21

Chapter22

Chapter23

Chapter24

Chapter25

Chapter26

Chapter27

Chapter28

Chapter29

Chapter30

Chapter31

Chapter One

It’s
probably important that I start this story by telling you who I am. My name is
Lizzie Fuller and I’m the tallest female member of my family, measuring in at 5
foot 2 inches. I’m average weight with a small waist and hips. Unfortunately, I
was at the front of the queue when God handed out breasts. I got my brown eyes
and long, dark, curly hair from my Mum’s side of the family.
 
I also have dimples.
 
I don’t know who I inherited those
from.
 
Grandma Mabel is a bit of a
wild card, so we don’t really know what’s hidden in the family gene pool. As
far as intelligence goes, I’m not stupid but I’m not a genius either. Today I’m
debating that.

I’m standing here
trying to turn the sticky
lock preventing me from opening my new front door. Well, new is a stretch of
the imagination. It’s new to me, so I guess it’s okay for me to say that. About
a month ago, I had a mid-life crisis and realized that, at the age of thirty one,
I didn’t own anything of significance. Sure, I own my car and a collection of
high-end fragrances, but if I was to take an unscheduled trip to the Pearly
Gates, I had nothing that stated this is who I am. True to form, I rushed out
the very next day and bought a house. No time like the present, hey?

Now I’m
wondering if I shouldn’t have had an affair like every other sane member of society
having a mid-life crisis. It would have been much easier…and cheaper.

“Hurry
up
. It’s freezing out here,” complained
my sister Molly. Molly had come along today to help me move but I was about to
ask her what her definition of ‘help’ was. So far, I’d yet to see it.

“It’s stuck,” I
grumbled, rattling the door in the hope that it would miraculously unlock
itself. Giving up, I stood back and looked for another way in. “Let’s go round
the back and see if this key fits that door.”

“Alright. But
only because walking may warm me up a bit.”

“You know if
you put some more clothes on you may not be so cold,” I said, looking at her. Her
skintight jumper may look warm but accompanied by a mini skirt and high-heeled boots,
I don’t think it offered much warmth. It would be interesting when we got inside
and started the cleaning. From memory, scientists from the Department of Health
would have a field day in there. Never mind, I’ll leave
that
little surprise for later.

Walking through
the knee length grass, I wondered what the hell possessed me to buy the very first
house I saw—maybe because it pulled on my heartstrings. The house is a
tiny, detached two bedroomed Victorian. Probably the best way to describe it is
a dilapidated cross between a gingerbread house and the house of horrors. It’s
a money pit. I know that. But the only other registered bidder at the auction
wanted to knock it down and I couldn’t let that happen. I get really
sentimental about things like that. All I saw was the memories the house would
hold. I thought about all the families that had grown under the roof, while it
protected them from the outside world. It would have witnessed love and anger
and every emotion in between. No, now was the time to protect it. It needed to
be restored to its former glory. But why I thought I had the skills necessary
to do such a thing is beyond me.

“Why didn’t you
buy one of those new apartments they’ve just finished overlooking the river?
 
They’re really nice and you never would
have to mow any grass,” complained Molly, looking around the overgrown yard.

To be honest, I
was wondering the same thing myself.

Pushing my hands
deep into my pockets for warmth, we stepped up onto the back porch. It’s hard
to believe the day started out so beautifully. The sun was shining and not a
cloud in the sky. True, it was autumn and a hot day wasn’t expected, but when
the wind picked up and the clouds rolled in, we knew that winter wasn’t far
away.

Pulling out the
key, I tried it in the lock. I heard the clunk as I turned it. My first attempt
to push the door open was unsuccessful, but with the use of my hip and a bit of
force, we finally made it inside. Finding the light switch, I flicked it on and
waited until the dim 60-watt globe illuminated the room. I looked around and
bit my lip. The excitement I’d felt when I awoke this morning was fading by the
second. I surveyed the room, biting down on my disappointment. Molly followed
me in. As she stomped her feet to warm herself up, I watched the dust rise and
nearly consume her.

“Bloody
hell
,” she coughed, waving her hand in
front of her.

The smell of a
stale, damp room hit me. I looked around at the dirty old kitchen cabinets and scarred
timber flooring, and felt a lump form in the back of my throat.

“Leave that
door open will you, Molly and for goodness sake
stand still
.”

Silently, we
walked through the house. I don’t think either of us could find the right words
to say. We were walking back down the stairs from the attic when Molly finally
broke the silence.

“Who the hell
thought this wallpaper was a good idea?”

I knew what she
meant. I too was thinking the same thing. With huge purple flowers and green
vines making large swirly patterns, I wondered at what point someone thought it
looked
nice
. Especially considering
they’d decorated the whole bloody house in it.

It’s funny, but
I don’t remember seeing wallpaper the day that I bought the house. To be honest,
I don’t remember the house looking this bad at all. That day, all I could think
about was how it would look when it was revamped.

The house had a
really simple floor plan. There was a main hallway with the staircase off the
front door. To the right of the stairs was the lounge room and to the left was
the kitchen. It’s the same on the second floor, only to the right was my
bedroom and to the left was the bathroom. The second set of stairs lead to the
attic, which was home to a second bedroom. The amount of work needed before
this house was even livable made me feel a bit queasy. The butterflies in my
stomach were going crazy, telling me to run, but what the hell did they know? This
was going to be fun, right?

“It’s going to
be great. A bit of a cleanup and you won’t recognize it,” I said, not daring to
look Molly in the eye.

“A bulldozer
would be better. And what is that smell?”

“Rodents, I
think.” I felt my nose twitch and tears threaten an appearance. I hated rats. I
mean,
really
hated them. Like phobia-hated
them.

“Don’t worry,
Lizzie,” said Molly. Sensing I was about to cry, she placed a hand on my
shoulder. “The cat should help with that.”

“What cat?” I
looked at her, surprised. “I don’t have a cat.”

“Well, maybe he
came with the house. He was sitting on the window seat in the lounge when we
walked in and looked quite comfortable, if I may say so,” she said, wrinkling
her nose. “Didn’t you see it?”

“No. But there are
a lot of things about this house I don’t remember seeing. Maybe I need glasses
or something,” I said, feeling a weight on my chest. “How could I be this
stupid, Molly?” I asked, feeling the sting of tears.

Molly pulled me
into a big sister hug. “You can come and stay with me if you like.”

“Thanks, but
no. I got myself into this so I have to see it through,” I said sniffing. I
took a minute to enjoy the warm, safe feeling of Molly’s hug before I stepped
back and pulled myself together. Feeling sorry for myself was not going to
improve this situation. “Now, where was this cat?”

I followed
Molly back to the lounge, and there, sitting on the window seat, was a
particularly large, fluffy ginger cat. Damn, she was right.

“But I
don’t want to own a cat,” I whined, thinking I have trouble looking after
myself. I should never be allowed to own an animal. In fact, there should be
some sort of law against it. You see, I did fish-sit for my mum once when she
went on holiday and—between you and I—the results were disastrous. This
cat was a real animal.

“I don’t think
you have much choice.”

Ok, the cat did
look quite at home sitting there, leg in the air, licking his privates. It
stopped mid-lick, tongue sticking to its fur and gave us the once over. Deciding
we were of no interest to it, it resumed what it was doing.

“I wish I could
do that,” said Molly, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

“What? Lick
your own privates?” Gee, there’s an awful lot I didn’t know about my sister.

“No! Get my leg
that high. Can you imagine what you could achieve if you were that flexible?” She
looked at me and grinned.

“Molly, you’re
disgusting,” I said, trying my hardest to hide my smile. Secretly, I was
relieved my sister wasn’t some sort of weirdo—just some sort of sexual deviant.
“Do you think it just wants food and then it’ll disappear again?” I asked,
looking back at the cat. I was hoping it just had the wrong house.

“It’s worth a
try.”

“There’s enough
bloody rodents around here it could have a smorgasbord.” Maybe a cat wouldn’t be
a bad idea. This last thought was actually quite encouraging. I mean, a cat
isn’t like a dog, is it? You can forget to feed a cat and it will find food
itself, won’t it?

“I think you
should go and get it some real cat food. It looks far too lazy to actually
catch anything.”

Bugger.

* * * *

We
spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning. Not that you could really tell where
we’d been. The solicitor who’d handled the sale of the house told me it was
empty for about six months and prior to that, an elderly lady had lived there. I
guess that explains the three inches of dust on every surface.

Molly helped a
little bit in the end, but not without complaints. By the time my dad arrived
with the truck full of my belongings, we had dusted and vacuumed every inch
downstairs. Now all I had to do was clean the bedroom and bathroom before I
could go to bed tonight.

“Why don’t you
sleep at my place until you get this place straight?” offered Molly.

“Thanks, but
I’ll see how I go. It’s going to take forever to renovate this place, so I’ll
have to get used it at some point.”

“Yeah well, the
offer stands. Even if it’s midnight, just get in your car and head over.”

I smiled. On
the surface Molly may look shallow and self-obsessed but it was all an act. On
the inside she was a big softy.

After Molly and
Dad left, I made a quick trip to the local grocery store, which meant I could
now feed not only myself, but also my squatter. I had a feeling Cat belonged
with the house and that even after feeding him the best Kitty Kat food money
could buy, he was not going anywhere. I’d also purchased every mouse and
rattrap the store had in stock because my faith in Cat was pretty low. There
was no way I wanted any of those little rodents crawling over me in my sleep. Hopefully
one look at my arsenal and word would get around the rodent community for them
to take a hike.

Feeling tired
and irritable I drove back to my new home. Actually, I’m really not sure if I
could call it home yet, it all felt so alien to me. I still wasn’t sure if I
made the right decision to buy this place and right now all I felt like doing
was crying. I was exhausted, everything I owned was in boxes and there was no
way I was unpacking them until I knew all furry creatures had moved on. Most of
the house was still filthy, I was responsible for a cat and now the sun was
setting, I was starting to feel Molly was right. I was pretty creeped out.

As I drove up
to the house it just looked dark, scary and lonely. Parking in my tiny driveway,
I contemplated spending the night in my car. I could lock the doors and not
have to face going back inside the house until the morning when it was bright
and sunny again. I could always sleep at Mum and Dad’s but then I would have to
explain I was too afraid to walk into my own house. God, I could just hear Mum
saying, “I told you not to buy it,” in that tone she gets when she knows she’s
right. Or I could go to Molly’s but then she would tell Mum I’d spent the night
there and I would still have to listen to her saying “I told you so”. No,
staying here tonight was my only option. I just have to stop being stupid and
get inside. There was nothing in there that could hurt me. I had personally
checked every cupboard for dead bodies and scary creatures earlier in the day. Checking
again would probably put my mind at ease, but there was no freaking way I was
going to check in the dark!

Entering the
house, I turned on every light in every room, all except the attic which—as
that particular light switch was at the top of the stairs—was way too
creepy for me to even think about. I stood outside my bedroom door and looked towards
the darkened staircase, terrified. I probably should have ventured up there and
turned it on. Peace of mind is a powerful thing. Oh well, I’ll just lock the
door, jump into bed and pull the covers over my head. That would work just as well.