Chapter 5

 

The tapping of my fingers on my computer keys makes to a sweet rhythm as I hit search. Results for Bottle Forest Wikipedia come up on abundance. Double clicking on the second webpage, I am redirected to a Wikipedia search.

 

Heathcote, New South Wales

HISTORY

Heathcote was originally known as Bottle Forest. There were fourteen town allotments in Bottle Forest in 1842, in what is now Heathcote East. In 1835 Surveyor General Sir Thomas Mitchell (1792-1855) conducted a survey in the area and named it Heathcote, in honour of an officer who had fought with him during Peninsula Wars against Napoleon.

Quote- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heathcote,_New_South_Wales

 

WOW! Really?! That must mean that Bottle Forest Manor must be not far, right?

CLICK, CLI-CLICK

Pulling up a Google Earth page, I search over Heathcote trying to find anything to show the old building. I try the streets of east Heathcote knowing nothing on this side of the railway is very old. I look from street to street, studying every single house I come pass but still I find nothing. I need to find this house! It has to be here somewhere I just know it. If the whole vampire suspicion is still about it nothing much would have happened to the house. Turning back to the search page, I type in Bottle Forest Manor… and nothing comes up.

Disappointed, I turn the computer off and go back into my room. Pulling out the large box, I return to my reading. With the cloth on my legs and the soft leather binding on my bedside table, I once again immerse my head into the tale of Dianne. I still find it difficult to call them Mum and Dad so I stick with Dianne and Harrison after all I have only really known about for a week at most.

Dianne talks about her love for Harrison and baby me. She talks about how she met Harrison and what her life was like before she died and became a vampire. She talks about her fear of the hunters who are forever on their trail. She talks about how she believes that the hunters do not know about their daughter, giving reason to how I survived, and how it was my birthday the day they died.

By the end of the diary, I have tears rolling down my cheeks. If only I could meet them, just once.

There is one last thing I need to look at.  Gathering the loose sheets of paper I grab a plastic sleeve from my desk and one by one study them before I place them gently into the sleeve. There are extra pages of the diary that have come loose, love letters that she and Harrison wrote to each other, drawings and photographs of Harrison, Dianne and baby me, and drawings of what I though was just a piece of jewellery till I it kept turning up.

Placing everything back into the box I keep out two things; a picture of the three of us standing outside Bottle Forest Manor and a drawing of the pendant. While there is no colour in the drawing, I swear I know the exact way it looks. The drawing is perfect, from the contours of the pendant to the inscribing’s on the side.

‘Laura!’ Dad yells my name. A knocking comes at my door as my little brother forces his way into my room.

‘MAX! Haven’t I told you to knock and wait?’ I yell frustrated at the boy and I place the two pictures into the box.

‘What’s that?’ he asks pointing at the box.

‘Nothing! Now scram!’ I order forcing him back out the door.

‘Dad wants to know if you want to come for a bike ride to the haunted house.’ Max’s eyes twinkle in excitement; little does he know the spark that just blew up in my head.

‘Yeah sure, I’ll be down in a sec.’ Closing the door on him I race around my bedroom putting everything back in place. Grabbing a pair of anklet socks, I head downstairs, slip on my joggers, place on my helmet and roll my bike out the side gate.

‘Hurry up Laura!’ Max yells as he sprints up our hill with his bike. Following him, I feel the familiar burn of my calves as I heave my bike up the steep hill. It didn’t take me long to overtake my little brother.

‘Hurry up Max!’ I laugh at him. I have always been known as a legs person. While my arms are as weak as arms can be I can outrun most people at my school and keep up a strong pace for longer than anyone else.

Dad is waiting for us at the top of the hill and I grab a few extra seconds of rest before Max joins us. Swinging my right leg over my bike, I push off racing Max down the street. The calming whip of the wind makes my memories of last night arise in my head; the feel of Christopher’s skin against mine and the warmth of his gaze. Now that was a night to remember!

Houses flash past me as we ride through Heathcote and towards the station. The gentle bleep of the lights changing, echo as we ride on. A burning sensation heats my body as I haul my bike over the ramp on the train station only to be followed by the howl of wind as I fly down the other side, through the car park and into Heathcote East.

After a series of turns; left, left, right, left; we find ourselves riding down a flat road. On the right side of us neat houses line up one after the in a straight line. On the left side a line of dense trees block the block behind from view.

My body is rattling like a doll as I awake from my sleep. I am wrapped in my blanket and I am lying in my mother’s warm grip. What’s happening? I think and start crying for my mother.

‘Shh, shh, it’s alright,’ Mums voice is rattles and she is breathing heavily but I giggle and close my eyes. Mum and dad must be racing.

I close my eyes and go back to sleep.

Shaking my head I come out of my trance. It was the same one as before but from my perspective instead of my mothers.

‘Now where was that gate?’ Dad is searching the low bushes for the gate in.

The houses flash out of focus and I am standing on the pebbled road looking forward. Turning my head I giggle as my hands are being held up by my mother as I take a wobbled step then another. Not far from where I am standing is a small gate that leads into the house beyond.

I snap out of the vision just in time to see the faint outline of the gate fade in front of a huge lopsided tree. Climbing off my bike I let it trail beside me as I take a couple of steps towards where I saw the gate. THERE! Indeed there is a gate here. Wiping away the trees, I uncover the gate. It is broken and lying lopsided on its rusty hinges. Probably the same way the hunters left it, I think to myself stepping through the tree line.

‘Dad!’ I yell back. ‘This way!’

‘Well done, Laura,’ he congratulates me as he follows in behind.

My hands tap against my dad’s head as we walk down the cobbles path to the giant house. My legs are around his neck and my body bounces as he jogs ahead. I laugh loudly at his hair tickling my belly.

‘Harry, careful!’ Mum yells from behind us.

WOW! My mind is buzzing with disbelief as I enter the courtyard of Bottle Forest Manor. The only difference between this version and the version two-hundred years ago was the plants that surround it. While in the vision the home was well kept and the trees neat, they are now over grown and weed creep up the walls.

‘Wow!’ Max exclaims. ‘This place is creepy already! Why is it called haunted?’

‘I don’t know,’ dad said. ‘I guess it just looks spookish.’

Should I tell them what I know? I could just say I found it on an internet site. No, it’s too risky. They won’t believe me. But what if I say it as a joke? No, Max has already had one thing this week to do with vampires. It’s better not to scare him.

‘Can we go in?’ I ask. I don’t even know if we are trespassing. Well, technically I own the place being the daughter of the previous owner even if they did die over two-hundred years ago.

‘Yeah, the door is ajar.’ Dad started around me as we got closer to the building. It is exactly how I visioned it to be. Everything from the structure to the outlines of the garden beds, the carvings in the stone to the type of stone. It is like having dei-jà-vous but you actually have been here, just two centuries back.

The crackling of my bikes wheels on the pebbled ground scratches beneath me and the house looms over me as I get closer to the front door. Banged off its hinges, half of the door lies on the floor and the other half is still on its frame. Just the way the hunters left it I think to myself as I step over the broken pieces of the wood and into the foyer of the house. And this is just how I imagined it.

Pictures of my ancestors sit on the wall looking at the new arrivals. There is my mother’s father and mother and their parents. The history of this house is astounding and still in one piece. If not for the superstitions regarding this place it could be sold for millions of dollars. The once proud staircase is now covered in moss and spiders web and the marble is cracking. The wooden handrail is burn and chipped.

‘Laura! Be careful!’ Dad warns as I make my way up the stairs.

‘Yes, dad!’ I yell back down to him.

’I’m going to get you!’ Dad yells from behind me as I run down the hall, giggling. Large hands grasp my waist hauling me up into the air as I try to squirm of his grip still giggling.

‘Gotcha!’ dad yells as he nuzzles his face into my neck and I squeal in protest.

‘Harry!’ Don’t bite our daughter!’ Mum yells from behind him playfully, trying to take me from my dad’s grip.

‘Never! She is my prisoner!’ dad bellows in a comic voice before running down the hall with me in the air watching Mum pretend to be a knight and running after me.

‘I’ll save you, princess!’ she yells as I crack with laughter.

I smile at the newest memory of my real parents. They are just like every other parent. As loving and caring and playful as the others and as selfless.

The familiar hallway brakes out in front of me as I finish walking up the staircase. The route in my head is clear and the route in real life is just as welcoming. Strolling down the hallway I take the first door to the left, the room I was left in.

The door creeks open as I make my way through it and into the dusty room beyond. The room is foggy and the paint is peeling. The yellowed cradle is still in the exact same place and the wooden furniture not touched.

Sighing because no vision came of this room I walk on down the corridor and into the last room on the left, the study. I don’t know why I am here; something pulls me to the place. Looking into the room I find the furniture trashed and the wooden floor stained with what I can only think to be my mother’s blood. Cobwebs and a thick layer of dust covers the contents of the sad room. A small tear streaks down my cheek as I look into the room. Come on, Laura! Hold yourself together! I tell myself but I can’t help it. The door lies in shattered pieces on the floor and the remnants of vampire hunters, a hammer and a stray stake, lay hidden on the floor.

‘Hey, Laura!’ Max’s voice echoes through the large house. Hurrying back down the hallway and down the stairs I try to gather myself. What would they think if they saw me crying? ‘Look at this painting!’

Entering what I would only think as the family room, the area through an archway on the left hand side of the door, I find myself being stared at by a family.

A young couple hold a small girl in their arms as they pose for a picture. I recognise them instantly. THAT’S ME! Dianne and Harrison sit side by side holing me in between them. I am dressed in a long white dress that most would see these days as something that looked like a christening dress with a small white bonnet on my bare head. I smile from ear to ear at the painter, laughing at something behind them. Harrison is wearing an Elizabethan era blue-grey suit. I can now study his face. He has high cheek bones and dark hair. He looks like a tough man with muscles clearly formed under his perfect-fit suit.  Dianne on the other hand is wearing a long red silk dress that accentuates her curves. White embroidery of vines borders her neck. The artists have cleverly left out any marks of being a vampire and while they smile with even their teeth no fangs were painted.

‘She looks like you!’ Max observes pointing at my mother

Indeed she did. I must be the split image of Dianne. From her red hair to her high cheekbones, her lean body to the contours that shape it. Would she be proud of how I have turned out? Would she like how I have turned out?

‘Yeah she does,’ I agree looking at my brother.

‘Come on guys!’ dad yells from the front door. ‘Let’s go and get ice-cream before we head home.’

‘ICE-CREAM!’ Max yells racing out the door. That got him moving I though smiling.

‘Bye Mum, Dad. I’ll make you proud.’ I promise as I turn and follow my brother. I could swear I could feel their gaze as I left.

We know you will. I could hear my Mum’s voice in my head just as I reach the archway out. Looking back, I give them one last smile before leaving.