Bella and the Wandering House Page 3

  ‘It’s the sand,’ Dad said. ‘It’s too soft.’ He looked down at Bella. ‘You see? It’s dangerous, what the house is doing. It’s best for everyone that we put a stop to this.’

  ‘You don’t have to worry,’ Mum said. ‘They’ll put it back together.’

  Dad nodded. ‘Good as new.’

  ‘Maybe even better,’ said Mum. ‘We might fix your room up a bit while we’re at it. Get rid of some of this crumbly old wood.’

  ‘But it doesn’t need fixing,’ Bella protested. ‘You can’t let them cut it! Besides, what’s the point when it can just take off again?’

  ‘We thought of that,’ Dad said. ‘The movers are going to set it into concrete for us, nice and deep.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Mum clapped her hands together, as if something important had been settled. ‘Once we’re back home, we’re staying for good.’

  She smiled but Bella couldn’t bring herself to smile back. All she could think of was the house, sliced in half like an apple, its spindly legs trapped in heavy concrete.

  Beneath her hands, the wood seemed to tremble, as if the house itself were shivering.

  Bella gripped the windowsill tightly. She had wanted to go home but not like this.

  She had to do something.

  Nine

  That night, Bella stayed awake.

  She sat in her window with the street directory and waited. She had traced a line across seven maps, all the way from the river back to their yard.

  When the house began moving, she was ready. She waited while it waded through the water and out onto the shore. As it reached the street that ran alongside the riverbank, she swung the screen open and pointed. ‘That way!’

  She glanced down. They wouldn’t be on this map for long. She flicked to the next one, making sure of the route. They had a few suburbs to get through; there were lots of turns to be made.

  But as she did, the house swung the other way. It raised itself up tall, as if it were stretching its back, then set off in the opposite direction.

  ‘No!’ Bella whispered urgently. ‘It’s back there.’

  But the house kept going.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘The next one, then.’

  There was a right turn coming up. If they took that, they could loop back onto the main road. As they approached, she shifted her weight to that side as if she were riding a horse.

  ‘This way!’ She pointed again.

  But the house kept going. At each corner it slowed, swinging back and forth, seeming to sniff the air before moving on. Once, it turned the way Bella wanted and her heart leapt a little. Maybe the house had finally understood?

  But at the next corner it went the wrong way and when she rattled the window and called out, ‘No! Stop!’ the house picked up speed, sending a gust of wind into the room that made the curtains flap around her face so she couldn’t see, and the map pages spin so she lost her place.

  She dropped the street directory to the floor and put a hand to the wood. ‘Listen to me!’ she said. ‘You have to go home. They’re going to cut you in half!’

  At her words, the house seemed to shiver. Faster and faster it went until it was almost running. And there was no rolling smoothness any more; Bella had to hold onto the window frame to keep her balance as they lurched wildly through the streets, all the way across the city and out the other side. They were heading into darkness now – no houses or streetlights to guide them as they stumbled on, each step taking them further and further away.

  In the morning, they were in a paddock on a farm. Cows moo-ed outside and a fat brown duck flew over from a nearby dam. It perched on the windowsill and peered in, tapping on the glass with its beak as if to say, ‘Hello? Anybody home?’

  No. Bella sighed. Not home. Not anywhere.

  She took the street directory down to breakfast and tried to work out where they were. She flipped through page after page, through big patches of empty space, before finally coming to a stop.

  Usually, there was a number on the side telling you which map to turn to next. But this time there was nothing but a thick black line and the words ‘Limit of Maps’.

  Dad leaned across from the other side of the table. He was still in his pyjamas.

  ‘We’ll have to take today off too,’ he said. ‘We’ll never get a taxi all the way out here.’ He waved out the window, where lumpy paddocks stretched as far as the eye could see. ‘But don’t worry. It won’t be for much longer. I’ve called the movers. They said they can fit us in on Friday.’

  ‘Just two more days,’ Mum said. ‘Hopefully we won’t be too far away by then.’

  Bella frowned. Two more days? But that would make today Wednesday and …

  Oh, no. It was Wednesday and that meant yesterday had been Tuesday and she should have been at Grandad’s. She imagined him sitting all alone at the little table with his vanilla slice and his plate of crackers.

  ‘I have to call Grandad,’ she said.

  Mum’s hands flew to her face. ‘Oh, dear. Of course.’ She pointed to where her mobile lay on the bench. ‘Use mine.’

  ‘You’ll have to go upstairs,’ Dad said. ‘It’s all fuzzy down here.’

  But Bella was already on her way, dialling as she took the stairs two at a time.

  ‘Bella!’ Grandad answered on the second ring, as if he had been sitting by the phone. ‘I’ve been so worried. I tried calling you all yesterday but –’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Grandad.’ Bella explained what had happened. The line crackled a little as she spoke, so she went into her room and stood by the window.

  ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘That does sound difficult. But surely they won’t really cut the house?’

  ‘They said they would.’ Bella looked around her. Where would they do it, she wondered? Over by the bed? Or here by the window? If they went down the middle they would go straight through the glass.

  If they did, would they put it back together good as new? Or maybe even better? Square and sensible like a normal window. Easier to get glass for. Easier to build around. You wouldn’t need a special tool like Grandad had used. It had taken him hours to shape the ends of these boards into their smooth, careful curves.

  Bella ran the fingers of her free hand along the wood. Where the wall met the window, the yellow paint flaked a little beneath her touch, revealing the pale blue beneath.

  She smiled. And then she peered closer, squinting. Because there was something else there too. Not just blue but green – spidery lines of dark green, reaching and curling this way and that.

  Like wrinkles, she thought, or lines on a map.

  She worked a fingernail under the edge of the paint, picking gently at it. And then she caught her breath, because the paint was not flaking now but lifting, a long rubbery strip peeling away along the line of the window.

  And underneath were not wrinkles or lines but letters – the sharp corners of an ‘M’, the smooth curves of an ‘a’.

  Grandad was silent, waiting for Bella to speak. She could almost see him there in the lounge room, leaning back in the comfy chair he always settled in when he was on the phone.

  And behind him on the wall, a certain photo, in pride of place.

  She stood perfectly still, her gaze fixed on the curling letters.

  ‘Grandad,’ she said softly, ‘the wood you used for my room … was it from your boat?’

  ‘Ah.’ In reply, Grandad seemed more to breathe out than to speak, as if something that had been locked inside him could finally come out. ‘Indeed it was.’

  Bella took a step back, remembering how the floor had pitched and swayed beneath her. How she had held out her arms for balance.

  It’s a bit like being on your boat.

  Her own words echoed in her mind. It wasn’t a boat. It was her room. But still …

  ‘Grandad,’ she whispered. ‘I think I have an idea.’

  When he replied, she could almost hear the twinkle in his eyes. ‘Do you?’ he said quietly. ‘Well, that
is a very good thing for a girl to have.’

  Ten

  Bella stood by the window, looking out at the dam. In the moonlight, the surface of the water was dark and still.

  Water. Lakes. Dams. A swimming pool. The river.

  How had she not seen it before? The way the house paused at every crossroad, as if it was searching for something.

  A girl needs the ocean, Grandad always said.

  But wasn’t that what a boat needed, too?

  Bella reached out and traced the curve of the letters with her fingertip.

  ‘I know what you want,’ she said. ‘I’ll get you there.’

  The street directory lay on the floor nearby but she didn’t pick it up. It was no good to her all the way out here, beyond the limit of maps. Luckily, she had something better.

  She tilted her head and looked up at the ceiling, at the tiny, luminous points dotted across it. Then she turned back to the window, gazing out and up.

  You didn’t need a road map on a boat. All you needed were the stars.

  Orion’s Belt. The Big Dipper. Sirius, the Dog Star.

  That meant north was straight ahead. Which made west … to the left.

  And west meant the ocean.

  Beneath her, Bella felt the floor begin to rumble as the house rose to its feet.

  ‘That way!’ She pointed. ‘The ocean is over there.’

  Around her, the house seemed to sigh. It took one tentative step and then another.

  ‘That’s right,’ Bella said. ‘That’s …’

  She stopped. The house was turning. It swung to the right, shivering like it was shaking something off. Then it continued straight on.

  ‘No!’ she said. ‘This is north. See? That’s Sirius. That means the ocean is this way. Please … I know what you want.’

  Again, the house paused, and for a moment Bella’s heart leapt. But then it continued on, and she slumped back against the windowsill. She had been so sure it fit – the wood and the water. The way the house seemed to be searching for something.

  She shook her head. It did fit. She was sure. Whenever she said the word ‘ocean’, the house slowed, as if it were listening, as if it were thinking. So why wouldn’t it turn? Why wouldn’t it do what she said?

  She was following the stars. This was her room, her boat. She was guiding it like a captain. She was …

  Oh.

  She jumped back from the window and hurried to the pegs by the door. It wasn’t her school bag she was after this time, or her library bag.

  This time, she was looking for something tucked away on the very last peg, beneath an umbrella, two beach hats and a winter scarf.

  Something Mum had told her a hundred times to put away in a drawer because it was silly to have it hanging there taking up space for no reason.

  Only it wasn’t for no reason, because you never knew when something like this would come in handy.

  It was a kind of beach hat, Bella supposed, only not like the others. This one wasn’t wide and floppy. It was stiff, with a pointed brim and gold piping.

  She slipped it onto her head. It was a perfect fit.

  She walked back to the window and climbed up onto the sill, curving her back against the wood.

  Then she spoke again, her voice ringing out clear and strong. ‘I am the captain of this boat,’ she said. ‘And our course is west. That way.’

  And no sooner had she spoken than the house stopped in its tracks. The floor rippled beneath Bella as the house seemed to nod, and then it turned, swinging smoothly to the left. There was no road there but it didn’t hesitate. It set off across rolling hills and bushland, picking up speed with every footfall as it strode westward into the night.

  Eleven

  For perhaps an hour, Bella led the house on through darkness.

  She kept her gaze on the stars, nudging the house this way and then that. A little to the left. A little to the right. Sometimes they had to go around things – bush that was too thick to pass through, a hill too steep to climb.

  Once, they came to a large lake. For a moment, the house paused. It began to lower itself, as if it might settle on the bank.

  But when Bella whispered, ‘No, not here,’ it rose back up. It stood tall and steady, waiting. And when she pointed, it set off again.

  At last, they came over a rise to a faint orange glow on the horizon. More houses began to appear and bush and paddocks gave way to roads and street signs.

  Bushy Loop. Gum Tree Way.

  Bella read the names softly as they went past. She glanced down at the street directory. These roads would be in there. She could look them up – find the names and the map numbers, flip from one page to the next and trace a careful line for them to follow.

  Instead she kept her gaze fixed on the sky. It was the simplest thing, after all – to choose a star and head towards it.

  She felt it before she saw it. There was a shift in the air, a soft breeze that tickled in through the window, bringing the smell of salt and seaweed.

  ‘Almost there,’ she breathed.

  But the house already knew. Around her, the old wood hummed. The curtains billowed as the house picked up speed, its loping strides lengthening with each spindly step.

  Marine Terrace. Ocean View.

  Bella’s heart raced as they made the last few turns. And then there it was – spread out dark and flat before them.

  The house drew back for a moment, as if it were taking a deep breath. Then it stepped down onto the sand. It walked slowly to the water’s edge and stopped, staring out at the ocean and the stars that shone in the deep, shimmering blue.

  And then it breathed out, the walls and floor rumbling like the long, lazy purr of a cat. It folded one leg across the other and sat down, sinking gently into the sand with a great sigh, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from it.

  Bella leaned back against the curve of the window. She could not have said how long they sat there like that. But after a time, she found herself smiling softly. She could hardly wait to tell Grandad. How she had worn his hat and followed the stars.

  She looked up at the sky. Orion. Sirius. They didn’t seem as bright now. But it wasn’t that they were fading. It was that the sky had grown lighter around them. Sunrise was coming.

  She pressed a hand to the wood. ‘It’s time to go home,’ she said softly. ‘You can come back every night if you want. I’ll bring you here, I promise. I’ll teach you the way. But we have to go home now.’

  There was the briefest pause before the house began to rise. It took a last lingering look out at the water and then headed back up the sand.

  Bella led it home. She used the map this time, guiding them past houses and shops, all the way to a quiet street with a tiny park on the corner and a curiously empty space in the middle. Where the house nestled its bottom down into the waiting grass at the end of the path, and Bella let her sleepy eyelids droop and then close.

  Home.

  Twelve

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’

  ‘Where are we this time?’

  Bella woke with a start. Why were Mum and Dad yelling again? They were home now, back in their very own yard. She had seen it with her own sleepy eyes.

  But when she turned toward the window, there was no tree, no dappled sunlight, no distant smudge of ocean. There was just sky – pale-blue and clear, with the faintest wisp of cloud. And below it … something else?

  She threw back her doona and padded to the window. Beneath the blue of the sky was a deeper blue, stretching away into the distance as far as the eye could see.

  ‘Oh, house.’ Bella groaned.

  It must have come back while she was sleeping – tiptoeing sneakily, perhaps, so as not to wake her up? Back here to the ocean, where it had settled itself down and …

  She hesitated as she looked around. Where were they, exactly? Not on the sand, as they had been last night. Not even on the grassy area further back from the water.

  There was a road in front of t
hem – a small, looping road around which several houses were clustered. They were new houses, some only half-built, missing windows and doors.

  There were empty spaces, too – fenced blocks with nothing on them but signs saying, ‘For Sale! Ocean Views!’

  It was in one of these that the house nestled, snug and cosy.

  A smile crept across Bella’s face. She ran down to the kitchen. Mum and Dad were staring glumly out the window.

  ‘At least we’re closer to home,’ Mum said. ‘And the movers are coming tomorrow.’

  Dad nodded. ‘I’ll have to call and tell them where we are. I guess I should wait, though. Who knows where we’ll be in the morning?’

  Mum leaned forward and rested her elbows on the windowsill. ‘Hopefully not too far from here.’

  ‘Yes,’ Dad agreed. ‘It would certainly be cheaper that way.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Mum. ‘But … it’s nice here, too. Look at the view! And that smell. So fresh! It almost makes me want to have a dip before work.’

  ‘A swim? Now?’ Dad raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Or just a paddle. We could walk along the beach.’ Mum gazed out at the ocean. There wasn’t a breath of wind and the surface of the water was flat and clear as glass. ‘It really is lovely here, isn’t it?’

  ‘You should see it from upstairs,’ Bella said.

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Mum looked up toward Bella’s room. ‘You know, it’s almost a shame we can’t stay. We could build a balcony up there. Imagine that!’

  ‘Actually,’ Bella said quietly, ‘this isn’t like the other places we stopped at. This is a yard. A new one. And it’s for sale.’ She pointed toward the sign spiked in the dirt by the fence.

  ‘Oh.’ Mum’s hands flew to her face. She shot a glance at Dad. ‘Do you think …?’

  Dad looked thoughtful. ‘It’s a nice idea. I wouldn’t mind having a dip before work. Or a paddle.’ He smiled briefly. ‘Maybe I could ask the movers to bring us here instead?’

  Mum nodded. ‘And once we get the concrete down …’