House of Memories by Alice; Taylor

Danny said with surprise, “there was the bed. A big monstrosity of a timber bed where we all slept with her at different times when we were small. It was in that bed she died.”
    “So the chances are that the key is stuck somewhere in that old bed.”
    “Holy God, Jack, it couldn’t be, because after she died my father tore it asunder looking for money, and all he found were diaries, and then he burnt the diaries and the mattress because he said that it smelt of piss. Not that it was the real reason because, as you probably know, bad smells did not exactly bother him, but he burnt everything.”
    “And probably the history of half the parish with them,” Jack concluded, “but that key is somewhere, and we must find it,because that was the way she would have wanted it.”
    “How do you know?” Danny asked, mystified.
    “Because my old bones tell me, and I always listen to my bones,” Jack told him.
    “Well, I’ll listen to your bones as well,” he decided, “because from what I can see they have never led you astray.”
    Later, when Jack had gone home, Danny walked slowly back into the yard. He looked around at the dilapidated farm buildings, but in his head there was now a different picture. Jack’s plan had taken shape in his mind. This was all going to be transformed. There was no more money now than yesterday, but he had a plan and a belief that it was possible. A new sense of excitement was throbbing through him. He was going to turn the tide of bad fortune that had flowed over Furze Hill since his grandmother had left the old house. Now they were going to go back there and have a whole new beginning. His mother would have a new life. It was good to feel that the tide was about to turn. He whistled happily to himself as he approached the open kitchen door. But as he came through the doorway, the tune choked in his throat. Rory was sitting in his father’s chair.

C HAPTER S EVEN
    K ATE SAT IN the ticket office of the village hall. The small, cramped corner where forgotten coats and cardigans had accumulated over the years hardly deserved the title ticket office, but it occupied one side of the short passage into the main hall, from which it was divided by a timber partition incorporating a small sliding perspex door and through this opening tickets were doled out and money taken in for any functions in the hall, which were mostly local concerts or travelling shows. The one advantage the ticket office had was a raised floor and a window running the entire length of the side looking down into the hall, so that the occupants had full view down over all the activities going on inside. This was a compensation for long hours doling out tickets to latecomers. It was Kate’s first time in charge here for a dance. She was still a bit surprised that she had let herself be talked into it, but Rosie had coaxed and conjoled, assuring her that it would give the first effort of the youth club an air of matureresponsibility to have herself and Fr Brady at the door. It would reassure parents who were dubious of this new enterprise run solely by the young teenagers. With this Kate had to agree. On her rounds of the parish she had to reassure many doubting parents that this was going to be a well-run club that would be of great benefit to their sons and daughters, who had often complained of the lack of entertainment for their own age group. Many of these parents were prepared to go on listening to the complaints, believing that what was good enough for them was good enough for the young ones, but Rosie had no intention of listening to them.
    Kate had been impressed as Rosie had taken the idea of the youth club on board with enthusiasm. Even at the very first meeting, she had stage-managed the whole thing so that she had been nominated and voted in as chairman before most of the others had settled into their seats. Kate suspected that Rosie had lined up her brother Jeremy, Nora, Peter and Davey to get her into the chair