CHAPTER 6
The next morning dawned bright and breezy. Jennifer stood on her balcony to greet the day and felt sure it would be warm and sunny. She dressed and tucked the map into her pocket. She had put on her white cut-off pants and her green sleeveless tee–shirt and spent a long time brushing and arranging her hair. She decided that despite the wind she would leave her hair down today. She shivered as she remembered her nightmare but decided the day would be too exciting to worry about it. She forced it out of her mind as she raced down to breakfast and found the twins already eating boiled eggs. Aunty Izzy had once again taken her coffee and toast to the large easel and was already painting furiously. Jenny whispered to the twins not to say anything about the old map and the key they had found. “It’s our little secret,” she said, and winked at the twins.
When the children arrived at the lighthouse they were surprised to see no sign of life. They looked around the garden where the little boat was still perched up on its stilts and finally went to knock on the door of the cottage, but there was no answer. Disappointed, they walked back to the beach and paddled in the water. It was already getting hot and it was only 10am. As they stood at the water’s edge they looked up at the lighthouse and were surprised to see two small figures and a little white blob high up on the lookout platform. Hanging over the green ironwork rail were Thierry and Aliénor waving to them and yelling at them to come up. The voices were carried to them on the breeze but they could just make out what the French children were saying. “Come up the door’s open!”
The twins and Jenny ran to the base of the lighthouse and were greeted by an excited Blanca who had hurtled down the spiral staircase as fast as her dainty paws would carry her and was hopping around their feet anxious to go all the way up again. At first the stairs were quite wide and the children began by running up two at a time even though this was difficult because they were constantly turning a corner. At what they reckoned might be the halfway mark their pace slowed down.
“Phew, we must be going up to the sky,” said Jack.
The stairs were now much closer together and they seemed to be spiralling much more tightly, turning and turning as they climbed. They hung on to the rope railing that had been secured at regular intervals with large brass hooks. The hooks themselves had been fixed into the solid, stone wall of the lighthouse and were obviously polished regularly as they shone very brightly. They were getting slightly dizzy but every-so-often there were little slits in the wall where they could pause and look out to sea. The beach seemed very far below them now. They carried on and were happy to be able to hear the voices of Aliénor and Thierry somewhere above their heads. As they neared the top they realised that above them was a patch of pure blue sky. They ascended the final few steps and, holding onto the rope rail for all they were worth, hauled themselves out onto the viewing platform which was just below the great light.
“Bonjour,” said Aliénor and Thierry together to Jennifer. “Blanca got here before you. She loves climbing the steps.” The viewing platform was very high and quite scary and Jenny took hold of Claire’s hand so the little girl would not be too frightened. It was quite safe, Jenny saw. The railings were made of very curly wrought iron and came up beyond waist height but there was also a fine metal grid that went all the way around and meant that even very small dogs were in no danger of falling through.
The view was fantastic. They could see way out over the beach and right across the sea and that was only one side. This was a 360 degree view. As they moved around the viewing platform they could also see inland.
“We should be able to see Aunt Izzy’s house,” said Claire who was feeling much braver now that she knew she was completely safe. The house was surrounded by very large trees, so they knew it wouldn’t be easy to make out any building but, eventually, Thierry pointed in the direction they had walked through the pine woods up to the beach, and there he said he could just see the roof of the house. The roof was covered in tiles that were very old and came in many colours from very pale yellow and orange to a darker brown colour. If you looked hard it was possible to just make out the shape of the building and see the chimneystack.
“Wow!” said Jack, “It looks so small from up here.”
Jenny was standing close to Thierry and trying to control her hair which was flying everywhere. She wished now that she had tied it back but consoled herself with the fact that there was much less breeze down at ground level. She noticed that he still had on his earring and sharks-tooth necklace and thought that he looked very much at home here on the lighthouse. She couldn’t imagine him in a school uniform. Then she remembered that French children don’t wear school uniforms, lucky them. She thought of her own school uniform with its boring grey pleated skirt, white shirt and blazer in cherry red. The blazer looked hideous with her hair colour and she hated the school shoes that had to have laces - YUK! Suddenly her reverie was interrupted as Thierry pointed at something way in the distance. “Look,” he said, “That looks like another roof top over there. It’s a completely different shape from your house though. It has a pointed roof like a, what do you call it in English? A windmill! Yes, a windmill.” He was very pleased that he has remembered the English word and grinned at Jenny who immediately blushed. She was quickly brought back to reality and, as she looked out to where Thierry was pointing, she realised that the three buildings were in a straight line. “Just like the pyramids in Egypt,” she thought, “what a coincidence.”
Jack and Claire squealed in delight, “Aunty Izzy said there was a windmill somewhere. Now we can say we’ve seen it!” The twins hurtled after Blanca who was running helter-skelter round and round the viewing platform. As this commotion was going on, a disembodied up side down head suddenly appeared from a tiny hatch that the children had scarcely noticed.
“Come up,” said the head and disappeared. This hatch was on the opposite side of the viewing platform from where the children had entered. It stood at the bottom of a very steep staircase that took them even higher, to the very top of the lighthouse where the huge mirrors that magnified the light were housed. Uncle Bernard was up in the glasshouse as they called it polishing the mirrors. They all went up single file and the children were surprised that they could all fit in the top of the lighthouse that looked quite small from down on the beach.
“This is the most important part of the whole building, “said Uncle Bernard. “In ancient times they had to light fires to guide sailors, then they used gas and now we use electricity to make the light. But the mirrors which magnify the light so it can be seen way out to sea must be kept clean and in good working order.” Uncle Bernard was clearly in his element and the children thought it a shame that he would have to return to Paris at the end of the summer and be a policeman again. But for the moment he was enjoying every minute of his life on the wild French Atlantic coast as a lighthouse keeper.
“Come on,” said Uncle Bernard putting his polishing cloths in a small cupboard next to the light, “Let’s all go down and have our déjeuner. It should be ready by now.” The children were all very glad to be invited to eat because they had left without a proper picnic today and had just packed some fruit. What they hadn’t expected was such an enormous meal. The French ate lunch at 12.30 precisely and what a lunch! They began with a salade compose which, in this case, meant a salad with ham, tomatoes and cheese. This was followed by the main meal, a huge pot of coq au vin. When they asked, the children were told that coq au vin meant a chicken casserole cooked in red wine. They were certainly not allowed to drink wine at home in Islington so they thought they would not be allowed a meal cooked in wine, but Uncle Bernard told them that it was alright because the wine disappeared when the chicken was cooking and only the flavour was left. They were a little sceptical and hoped it didn’t taste as nasty as the sip of Aunt Izzy’s wine they had tried. They need not have worried as they thought the coq au vin was delicious and asked for seconds. After the chicken came a platter of cheese and the children tried a bit of
each but found some of them tasted too strong and they certainly smelt strong! The final course was a crème brulee, a delicious custard with a sugary topping that had been burned to toffee. The children felt they would be unable to move for the rest of the day. When they had finished they helped to clean up and wash the dishes. The lighthouse didn’t have a dishwasher and the children found that it was quite fun washing dishes and splashing around in the suds. After lunch they decided to go for a walk along the beach but Thierry said he had to help Uncle Bernard with the boat. Jennifer was a bit disappointed but as they walked away Thierry shouted “I’ll see you later Jenny.” This cheered her up enormously and she shouted back
“OK Thierry, we’ll be back soon.”
Aliénor and Jennifer walked slowly down to the sea edge while the twins skipped along in front of them gathering shells. Jenny wasn’t sure whether to tell Aliénor about the key and the map and the poem they had found in the old greatcoat. Eventually she decided it could do no harm and that she would need help to understand what it all meant anyway, since her French wasn’t good enough to decipher the poem and her map reading skills were very limited.
Aliénor was very interested in the date mentioned on the map but she didn’t really understand the poem which was very faint and written in old French. As every French schoolgirl knows, Aliénor told Jenny, 1789 is the date of the French Revolution. This was not a date that Jennifer knew at all. She would, of course, have known the significance of 1066 the year that William came over the channel from Normandy and conquered England. “Perhaps there will be buried treasure,” said Aliénor excitedly. “During the revolution many aristocrats had to hide their wealth for fear of having it taken by the citizens.” As they walked along the wild Atlantic beach both girls were daydreaming of buried treasure and Jennifer was suddenly very pleased that her summer holiday essay looked like getting an “A” for imagination, if not for accuracy!
“We should get back now,” said Aliénor. Jennifer called to Jack and Claire who came running back to the older girls to show them their prize collection of shells, starfish and seaweed. All five arrived back at the lighthouse fifteen minutes later looking a shade browner that when they had left. “We must get back. Aunty Izzy will be worried if we stay out too late,” said Jenny. “Why don’t you, Thierry and Uncle Bernard come over to our house for lunch tomorrow? It won’t be such a huge one but Aunty Izzy said you could come any time.” They all agreed to come over at 12.30.
Jenny whispered to Aliénor, “Don’t mention the map and poem to Uncle Bernard. We will look at it in detail when the twins are not around. I think they would only get in the way when we look for buried treasure and the adults might not want us to go exploring.”
They all waved goodbye and as Jennifer turned to go she could have sworn Thierry winked at her. She turned away quickly so he couldn’t see her blazing cheeks. “Bye!” she shouted without turning around.
“Why is your face so red?” asked Claire.
“I must have caught the sun,” replied Jennifer, “now come along, we must tell Aunty Izzy that we have invited them all for lunch tomorrow.”
“Who was that old man carrying water in a bucket?” asked Jack.
“You must be day dreaming,” replied Jennifer and Claire in unison and they both laughed.
“I was not day dreaming,” scowled Jack. “He looked a bit like Uncle Bernard but he had old fashioned clothes on and carried a wooden bucket to water the horse.”
Jennifer stood rigid. “What horse?”
“I don’t know, but he was a lovely golden colour. And there were two other smaller horses.”
“I think you must have had too much sun,” Jennifer concluded, but what Jack had said had unsettled her. Perhaps they had all had too much sun!
When they got home their Aunt was nowhere to be found. The house was open and there was a cup of coffee next to the painting. Jenny felt the cup, which was still warm, but untouched. “How odd,“ she thought.“Why would she make a cup of coffee and then go out and leave it? She must have gone for a walk.”
“It’s so hot she just needed some air,” said Jenny to the twins, not wanting to worry them. “Why don’t you two go and get out of you beach things and change your clothes, then if she isn’t back we’ll go and walk around the garden to see where she is.”
Jennifer looked at the painting while the twins bounded upstairs two at a time. Art was most definitely not her best subject at school but she felt that the painting must be very nearly finished. The lighthouse was clearly Uncle Bernard’s even though it was seen from an odd angle. The seashore became a large diagonal right across one side of the picture leaving about two thirds for land in a triangular shape and one third for the sea. On the right hand side of the triangle was the lighthouse looking exactly like it did in reality. It was mainly white with a red top and there was the green decorative iron railing that she had seen at such close quarters earlier in the day. She peered closely at the top and was astonished to see five tiny figures on the viewing platform and right next to the smallest of them was a miniscule white animal. She gasped. Aunty Izzy must have seen them all up there this morning with Blanca the poodle.
Jennifer’s eyes moved across the base of the painting until she came to another building in a direct line with the lighthouse. It was where this house should be but Aunty Izzy had painted a beautiful Château with pointed blue turrets and romantic towers. As her eyes moved up to the top of the picture there, just where they had seen it from the top of the lighthouse, was the mill. This wasn’t finished yet but there was no doubt that it was the mill she had begun painting on their first day and right where it should be in alignment with the Château and the lighthouse. Jennifer couldn’t help feeling that the whole thing was so familiar. The only part of the painting that remained completely unfinished was the sky and a section at the bottom right hand corner. As Jennifer stood staring at the painting the door swung open and Aunty Izzy rushed in all red faced and breathless. “I know it’s there somewhere,” she muttered under her breath. She got right up to the painting before she even seemed to notice Jennifer.
”What is where?” asked Jennifer.
“The moulin,” replied her Aunt.
Jenny looked blankly at her Aunt.
“The windmill,” said Aunt Izzy. “I’ve looked everywhere but can’t find it.” Jennifer was suddenly very interested indeed in this conversation. “How do you spell moulin?” she said.
“Why that’s easy,” said Aunty Izzy, “I’m surprised you haven’t learnt that at school yet. M.o.u.l.i.n.,” replied her Aunt spelling out the word. Jennifer felt a tingle all the way down her spine and her hair began to stand on end.
“Why were you looking for the moulin?” said Jennifer pleased that she had learnt another French word and not wanting her Aunt to realise that she was even a bit excited by the way this discussion was going.
“Well, I just can’t seem to resolve that part of the painting,” said Aunty Izzy. “I thought if I could see the real building I would be able to paint it, but how can I if I can’t find it!”
Jennifer asked where her Aunt had actually looked for the building and was surprised to learn that she had been looking in the area to the west of the house.
“But why didn’t you look north where you have started to paint it?” asked Jenny. “Because that is where it is!” Aunty Izzy dropped her paintbrush that was loaded with turpentine and yellow ochre oil paint and didn’t even notice how it splattered all over the floor. Jenny grabbed one of her painting rags and began to mop up the mess.
“How do you know where it is?” asked Aunt Izzy crossly.
“Because I have seen it,” Jenny answered equally crossly.
When the two calmed down Jennifer explained that she and the twins had been to the top of the lighthouse and seen the mill exactly where it was in the painting and Aunty Izzy explained that she had just put the mill where she thought it would look best in the painting making a nice symmetrica
l design. She also explained that she had painted the children and Blanca because she thought it would be nice if they did go up the lighthouse, not because she had seen them there. As they both stood in front of the painting Aunty Izzy said, ”Well knock me down with a feather! Who’d have thought that the windmill was there all the time? I had begun to think it might not exist at all. And I must be psychic painting all of you and even Blanca right at the top of the lighthouse. I did that part just before I stopped for lunch.” Jennifer stood silently next to her Aunt for a few seconds gazing at the large painting and wondering if she had painted them at exactly the time they were all on the lookout platform, then she said, “What time did you stop for lunch?”
“I stopped at 12.30,” replied her Aunt,” just like the French!”
“Why did you paint this house like a castle with blue tiles on the pointed towers? It is this house, isn’t it?”
Aunty Izzy pondered for a moment and then said, “I don’t know, it just seemed the right thing to do.” Jennifer was shocked by this reply. She had thought that her Aunt, all artists for that matter, would have a plan in their minds before they started painting. Did this mean that the painting kind of painted itself or had a life of its own? She wanted to ask Aunt Izzy but she had something much more important than this on her mind and couldn’t wait to get to her room. She told her Aunty that they had all had a huge lunch with Uncle Bernard, Thierry and Aliénor and that she had invited them all for lunch tomorrow. She could sense that her Aunty was a bit miffed and only wanted to get back to her painting.
“I told them it wouldn’t be a big lunch,” she said as she walked to the staircase, “and don’t bother about food tonight. I’ll make something for us all while you carry on with the painting.” Aunty Izzy looked relieved and was clearly planning to begin work on the moulin even though she still hadn’t seen it. Perhaps, now she knew that it really existed and where it was, she could start to paint it properly.
Jennifer rushed upstairs and opened the drawer where she had placed the key. It was the key she wanted, the map and poem would need Thierry and Aliénor and longer than she had on the beach today. She held the key in her left hand. It was heavy and looked very old but what she wanted to look at was the label. Hanging from the circular part of the key that was almost big enough for her whole hand to grasp was the thin, fragile looking piece of paper. And there were the letters she had remembered M.O.U. The word was incomplete, but she felt sure that the rest would be L.I.N. She had the key to the moulin! She decided not to tell the twins whom she thought had completely forgotten about the rainy day when they found the old book and the key. She would take Aliénor and Thierry into her confidence and they would all go to look for the windmill together. If the twins had to come she would pretend they were having a game of hide and seek. It would be easy to keep them occupied while her two new friends helped her to solve the mystery of the moulin. She took the map out of her pocket and placed it with the old key in the drawer in her bedroom. As she did so Jennifer wondered if the map and key had anything to do with the mysterious girl and her palomino horse. She felt somehow that she and the twins were bound up in the girl’s story.