The Jewels of Sofia Tate (3 page)

Garnet bit her lip. If only she could move back to Owen Sound. Back to her old house. She had lived next door to Amy for three years. Garnet felt the black digital watch on her wrist and recalled the day her friend had given it to her, shortly after she and her mother had moved from Toronto. She had been in Grade 7, and every day Amy would come to call on her to walk to school together. Garnet's mother would have already left for work and Garnet would always be scrambling, still getting dressed. Finally, one
day, Amy took off her watch and handed it to Garnet, saying, “Here, take this. You need it more than I do.” It was not an expensive watch and it skipped ahead a minute or two every week or so, so that Garnet had to remember how much ahead of time it was running or else readjust it. But she wore it, anyway. It reminded her of Amy.

And now she was stuck here where she had no friends and nowhere to go tonight. If only her mother hadn't taken this transfer. Her only hope now was that the promotion her mother was expecting would fall through. Maybe then there'd be the chance they could return to Owen Sound and she could have her old life back.

“Breakfast is ready!” her mother called. Garnet punched the desk with her fist and went to the kitchen.

After breakfast, Garnet went upstairs and pulled on a pair of blue shorts and a white T-shirt. As she tied back her red curls, she glared at herself in the mirror.
Nose too freckled. Lower lip too fat.
Then she set off on her bike.

A white Sunbird was parked in Elizabeth's driveway when Garnet arrived. She set her bike at the side of the house and climbed the stairs to the verandah. The faint strains of someone playing the piano filtered through the closed door. Garnet tapped the brass lion-head knocker and waited. A few moments passed before the door swung open, and she was startled to be greeted by
a strange little woman with dark, questioning eyes. Her short brown hair, flecked with grey, began in the middle of her forehead and was combed back away from her face so that she reminded Garnet of a chimpanzee.

“Yes?” the woman inquired in a low tone.

“Oh! I was looking for Elizabeth.” Garnet frowned. “Is she here?”

“Who are you?” the woman asked, her eyes boring into Garnet's.

Garnet suddenly became aware that the piano music had stopped.

“I'm Garnet Walcott. I helped Elizabeth yesterday when she fell. I just dropped by to see how she was.”

The woman's eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth as though she were about to say something, when Elizabeth appeared at the door. She smiled when she saw Garnet and Garnet could see that she looked rested and more energetic than she had the previous day. “Hello, Garnet. So nice to see you again. Do come in,” Elizabeth invited, motioning with her hand.

The strange woman moved aside and Garnet stepped into the green-and-white-tiled entrance, where an antique oriental vase, decorated with colourful flowers and birds, rested on a small table and a grandfather clock stood in the corner, its pendulum swinging back and forth, announcing the half-hour with a gong.

“Gerdie, this is Garnet. I met her yesterday when I went out for a stroll. Garnet, this is Gerdie, my housekeeper.”

“Hello,” Garnet said, smiling weakly.

“Hello,” Gerdie grunted, making no attempt to return the smile. “Well, I've got work to do,” she muttered. She turned and shuffled away, climbing the floral-carved spiral staircase. One more unfriendly face in this city.

“Come, let's go into the living room.” Elizabeth guided Garnet to the left, through the French doors. “You'll have to excuse Gerdie,” she said, lowering her voice. “She's very shy and often doesn't trust strangers. When she's here, she hardly says a word, just does her work. Though I have to say, she has come out of her shell in the past few months. Ever since Stan Hunt swept her off her feet.”

“Has she been your housekeeper for long?” Garnet asked, finding herself a little curious about the woman.

“Oh, only for about the past year. Ever since I started to get my dizzy spells,” Elizabeth replied. “I've known her for years, though, from church. And really, she's more than a housekeeper. I don't know what I'd do without her, especially now that I can't drive anymore. She comes about three times a week to help me out. She even takes me to the doctor and counts out my pills and sets them out for me so I don't forget to take them.”

Garnet looked around the room. A grand piano took up the entire front corner and plants set in the alcove of the bay window absorbed the last of the sun's morning rays. Beyond the oriental rugs the hardwood floor gleamed, and the high, ornate ceiling, framed by plaster mouldings, held a chandelier with eight yellowed fabric shades in the centre of it. Several paintings, depicting rural landscapes, and signed by Homer Watson, hung on the walls, and on either side of the wooden mantel stood a pair of side chairs, their golden fabric worn through years of use, and resembling the one Elizabeth had commented on the day before.

But what struck Garnet most about the room was that, if it hadn't been for a few modern conveniences such as the television, it was like taking a step back in time. Their home in Owen Sound had also been a century home but it hadn't been like this. It had undergone too many renovations over the years.

“I love your house, Elizabeth. It feels ...”
Like I belong here,
Garnet wanted to say. The thought came out of nowhere and she didn't know why it had even entered her mind. Somehow, being surrounded by these items from the past offered her solace, like a loyal friend she could count on. But that was so ridiculous. “It ... it just feels so
comfortable,”
she finished, grabbing at the first word she could think of.

“Ah, that it is,” Elizabeth agreed. “But unfortunately, I don't know how much longer I'll be able to stay. Gerdie has been helping me to keep the house in order, but I'm getting too old. The stairs are too steep and getting around this immense home has become cumbersome. Gerdie's fiancé, Stan, is a real estate agent. He said I could get a good price for it and I don't doubt that. When he sold my good friend Clara's house, she got top dollar for it. Now he keeps urging me to sell. He says it's a good time to do it, but I ... I don't want ... I can't sell it yet,” she finished firmly.

“Why not?” Garnet asked.

“Because ...” Elizabeth sighed. “I'm afraid it's not as simple as it sounds.” She seated herself in the armchair and motioned for Garnet to seat herself as well. As Garnet sank into the sagging burgundy sofa behind her, an unusual hand-painted clock on the centre of the mantelpiece began to chime. Elizabeth waited for it to finish, and Garnet felt her eyes on her again, as they had been the day before. Elizabeth hesitated, then seemed to come to some sort of a decision.

“You see, a long time ago, in April of 1940, I came to this house as a young bride. My husband, Albert, went to war two months after we were married. He was a pilot and went willingly, the war being a cause he believed in. I was left behind with my father-in-law, Reginald Tate.
He was rather a strange man. Eccentric might be the better word. I often wondered if some sort of dementia had set in. Of course, it didn't help that he'd been deaf in one ear since the Boer War and was losing his hearing in the other ear as well. In any case, I was left behind with him and the housekeeper until his death in March of 1942. In that time, I found his behaviour to be, well, quite frankly, a little unusual.”

Garnet frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he would say things. Things that didn't make sense. And he only got worse as time went on,” Elizabeth explained. “He was a very religious man and would sometimes quote the Bible. He'd go on about the 'Day of Christ,' or how if the owner of the house had known what time the thief was coming, he'd have kept watch and not let the thief break in. He'd ramble on and on, whether anyone was listening or not.

“In the end he contracted pneumonia and became delirious with fever. The doctor was called but nothing could be done for him. The housekeeper did her best to keep him comfortable and, of course, I tried to help, for Albert's sake, but I'm afraid I wasn't able to do much. Whenever I'd enter his room, he'd only shout at me. I don't think he remembered who I was anymore. Except on the day he died. That day, the housekeeper summoned me and said that Mr. Tate should like to speak with me.”

Garnet lifted her eyebrows. “What did he say?”

“Well, as you can imagine, I was a little taken aback. I didn't know what he wanted from me. He was quite feverish and gasping when I entered the room, and I thought, at first, that maybe the housekeeper had misunderstood. But he looked right at me when he spoke, and he seemed to be trying to relay a message. He said, 'The angel. Tell Albert. The angel. Look. The cross. Remember Thomas. The angel will guide you.' Something like that. I assumed it was more of his nonsensical religious gibberish. I had no idea who Thomas was or what he was talking about. But he pointed to that angel.” Elizabeth directed a finger toward the mantelpiece where a silver angel stood to the right of the clock. “He used to keep it on his night stand.”

“So, what was he trying to tell you?” Garnet asked.

“I don't know. That is, I don't know for sure.” Elizabeth's eyes were downcast as she twisted the gold ring on her left hand. “I wrote to Albert about his father's death and what he had said to me. Albert replied that I was not to worry. He would explain everything to me when he returned. But he never did come back, you see, so there was never any explanation.” She gave a deep sigh. “Maybe Reginald was just talking gibberish — that's what Albert would have told me. He was strange, after all. Anyone could see it.” Elizabeth pursed her lips.
“The thing is, something happened a few years after the war that has always made me wonder.”

“Wonder what?” Garnet asked.

“Wonder if his words were more than just gibberish. You see, one spring night, after I'd been out, I returned home and heard noises in the house. I noticed a broken window in the kitchen and quickly realized I had an intruder, so I left to call the police from the neighbour's house. They soon arrived, but the intruder escaped and ran to the park where he had left his car. He sped away and the police followed. They chased him all the way to the outskirts of the city, but before they could stop him, he lost control, drove into the Grand River, and drowned. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. Sometimes my mind even plays tricks on me and I dream that I hear someone walking around the house at night.” Her pale blue eyes narrowed behind her gold-rimmed glasses. “The point is, I've always wondered whether that was a random break-in or if the intruder knew anything about the jewels.”

Garnet's eyebrows knitted together. “The jewels? What jewels, Elizabeth?”

“The royal jewels of Sofia Tate.”

A loud knock sounded at the door and Gerdie pattered to the front hall to answer it.

“Hello, Danny,” Garnet heard her say in a monotone voice.

“Hello, Miss Pitt,” a young man's voice replied. “How are you today?” he added cheerfully.

“Fine. Just fine. Come on back to the kitchen with those,” she ordered. Garnet heard Gerdie's footsteps move down the hallway, with heavier ones following.

Elizabeth reached for her cane. “Sounds like Danny's here with the groceries,” she said. “Excuse me.” She rose from the chair and shuffled out of the room, leaving Garnet alone.

“Hello, Danny,” she heard Elizabeth say.

“Hello, Mrs. Tate. How are you today?”

“I'm fine, thank you, Danny. Feels like another hot one, though. How would you like a nice cold glass of lemonade?”

“That would be great, Mrs. Tate,” Danny replied. “I'll just finish bringing in the rest of the groceries first.
Should I bring them through the back?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth replied. “Why don't you go through there right now?”

A door slammed and, moments later, Elizabeth poked her face into the living room. “Garnet, may I offer you some lemonade?”

Garnet nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Why don't you come back to the kitchen?”

“Sure,” Garnet replied, and she hopped off the couch.

The back door swung open and a tall figure with muscular arms lifted a large cardboard box of groceries onto the kitchen table. His blue polo shirt had the Pioneer Foods logo on the front of it.

“Danny, I'd like you to meet my new friend, Garnet. Garnet, this is Danny, the best grocery delivery boy in the city.”

Danny laughed. “Tell my boss that.”

“I'm sure your father already knows.” Elizabeth smiled and turned to Garnet. “Danny's father manages the Pioneer Foods grocery store chain.”

“Hi,” Danny said, flashing a wide, lopsided smile.

“Hi,” Garnet said, and blushed as she realized that she recognized him from school. Only no one there called him Danny. He was Dan Peters and everyone knew him. She had heard his name announced several
times in past weeks for winning at various track-and-field events, and newspaper clippings describing his victories had been posted on the bulletin board in the hall. He was fairly good-looking, Garnet supposed, with his short, black hair and the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

Dan tilted his head to one side. “Haven't I seen you at school?” he asked.

Garnet felt herself flush to an even deeper shade of red. He knew she existed. “Maybe. But I just started at Cameron a few weeks ago.”

“So, you already know each other,” Elizabeth said, clasping her hands. “Isn't that wonderful?”

Hardly, Garnet thought, since she barely knew anyone at Cameron Heights. And even if she did, people like Dan Peters would definitely be out of her league.

“You'll be graduating soon, won't you, Danny?” Elizabeth said as she finished pouring three glasses of lemonade from a pitcher.