Belinda Murrell: Bringing Australian History To Life | Page 59

EXTRACT

When the house was quiet, Sophie
found a candle on the mantelpiece and,
concentrating with all her might, tried to
lift it up. She fumbled and knocked it and
dropped it.
It seemed so strange that something
as simple as picking up a candle was so
difficult, yet she could fly and be invisible
and dissolve through solid walls, all of
which were totally impossible in her own
life.
At last Sophie was able to pick up the
candle, with trembling fingers. She held
the wick against the red coals of the fire
until it burst into flame. Now she had light.
Sophie wandered around the drawing
room checking the portraits on the wall,
the knick-knacks on the piano and the
Indian curios on the mantelpiece by the
candle’s flickering light.
A huge gilt mirror was hung over the
fireplace in the drawing room. Sophie
stared in the mirror at her reflection. She
was not there, only the candle floating
mysteriously by itself in midair, the
drawing room reflected behind it. It gave
her a fright: did she really exist any more?
Sophie took the candle and wandered
through the ground floor, exploring. She
could go into only the rooms where the
doors were left ajar, as she could not
fade through the doorways carrying the
candle.
The clock chimed the quarter hour. The
house was asleep. Only Marmalade the
ginger cat remained to keep her company,
strolling at her heels.
The storm outside gradually intensified
until it was shaking the very foundations
of the house. The wind buffeted the
windows and rattled the doors and the
shutters. The clock on the mantelpiece
struck one o’clock.
A clatter sounded from the driveway. A

horse galloped up
the gravel, its hoof
beats hardly audible
over the storm. A
crash sounded on
the front door – a
banging of fists
– and then came
an indecipherable
shout. Sophie froze,
her heart in her
mouth.
With sudden
clarity she knew
what that terrible
banging meant.
She knew what
dreadful news was
on the other side of
that door. In slow
motion, she heard
the stirrings in the
house. Sophie blew
out the candle flame
and floated towards
the front door.
Wilson the
butler, wearing
a jacket over his
nightclothes, hurried
down the back stairs
and into the hall,
carrying a hastily
lit lantern. Nanny
bustled after him, a
thin wrapper over
her nightclothes,
her hair covered by a mob-cap. She was
followed by two chambermaids, who were
clutching each other nervously.
Wilson unbolted the big front door,
which slowly swung open. A saturated
fisherman fell into the hallway, shedding
puddles from his sou-wester.

‘My God, man!’ Wilson exclaimed.
‘Whatever has happened?’
‘Storm,’ panted the fisherman,
breathless from his breakneck ride. ‘Ship
hit the rocks near Kyle of Lochalsh.’

Tragedy has fallen on the Mackenzie family – but there is more bad luck to come.
Read The Locket of Dreams to find out how two young Scottish girls end up on the
other side of the world, in Australia in 1858.
The Locket of Dreams is published by Random House Australia and is copyright © Belinda Murrell 2009. RRP $17.99

randomhouse.com.au/teachers 59