The Key to Finding Jack by Ewa Jozefkowicz (i can read books TXT) 📗

familiar. They were eyes which smiled, the corners creased up with kindness. I saw now that Jack had inherited those eyes.

Then I studied Grandma, who gazed at her husband adoringly. That was when I noticed it. In the photo she was dressed in a white shirt with an open collar, and she wore a fine gold chain around her neck. From the chain dangled a tiny key.

I felt lightheaded. I opened the curtains to let in the sunshine, examining the necklace from every angle. I took Jack’s key from my pocket, held it up against the photo and compared the two. I was certain that they were the same key.

I ran down the stairs, still in my pyjamas.

‘Grandma! Grandma!’ I shouted. She was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a silk dressing gown with a frilly collar and ruffled sleeves, of the exact kind that I imagined Lady Abigail would wear. She jumped in her seat as I came into the kitchen.

‘What’s happened?’

‘Is this yours?’ I asked her breathlessly, opening my palm to show her the key.

‘Oh,’ she said staring at it calmly, ‘yes. Well, it used to be. I thought it was Jack’s now…’

‘Did you give it to him?’

‘Yes, a few years ago. He found it lying in my old jewellery dish and asked about it. I saw how much it fascinated him, so I gave it to him since I hardly wore it any more.’

‘Where is it from?’ I asked her.

‘Grandpa bought it for me when we were travelling on our honeymoon. It’s from a little key factory in Peru.’

‘In Peru?’ I asked in disbelief. ‘You’ve been to Peru? Is that where the photo upstairs was taken?’

‘The one in the Yellow Room? That’s from Patagonia in Chile,’ said Grandma. ‘Your grandfather travelled to Chile, Argentina and Peru with the Navy and told me wonderful things about South America. It made me want to go myself and I’m glad I did. Peru is the most fascinating country. I’m afraid that I told Jack all about it… I might have been the one who persuaded him to go there.’

Her voice began to shake, so I changed the subject.

‘Grandma, do you think Jack would have left the key for you?’ I asked her. ‘I don’t understand why he didn’t take it with him. He used to wear it every day, but here it is, and there was a note with it that says he’d left it “For S.F.”’

‘For S.F?’ Grandma asked, looking puzzled. I could sense straight away that the message meant nothing to her, but I thought it would be wise to double check.

‘You don’t think he meant you?’

‘I don’t think so, Felicity. We hadn’t spoken about the key. I’m not sure why he would have wanted to give it back to me. Besides, if he did, don’t you think he would have written “Grandma” instead of my initials?’

‘I suppose,’ I agreed. ‘Is there anything else that you can tell me about the key?’

‘Well, I’m not sure it’s worth very much. I think it’s made of iron. There were lots of them at this little market stall next to the key factory. The stall owner seemed a bit desperate to sell. He told us that the keys had magical powers. Apparently whoever bought one would be granted one wish that would come true. It was silly, but Grandpa loved it. He insisted on getting it for me.’

‘And did you make a wish?’

‘No, of course not,’ she said, and then she winked at me.

‘You did, didn’t you?’ I couldn’t help but smile. Since yesterday, I’d seen a whole new side to Grandma.

‘I wished that we would have a lovely house with a garden… I was a bit materialistic in those days.’

‘And?’

‘Your grandpa got promoted shortly after and we bought this place,’ she said. ‘It was good timing as I found out that I was pregnant with your mum. It was huge compared to the tiny flat that we lived in before. It was a coincidence… Or maybe not?’

I didn’t believe in magic, and yet there was something in Grandma’s story that made me wonder. Maybe there was the wildest possibility that I too could harness the power of the key and use it to bring Jack home.

‘Here, have some breakfast,’ Grandma motioned towards some croissants. ‘Gertrude has found a tolerable jam.’

My mind was racing with everything I wanted to tell Keira and update on the tree.

As we ate, Grandma told me more about her travels with Grandpa. I still couldn’t quite imagine her backpacking in the Amazon rainforest.

‘On the second shelf of the white bookcase in the living room, you’ll find a row of photo albums. If you want to see more of our travels, you can have a look at the dark green one. Why don’t you bring it here?’

I found it quickly and brought it back to the table. I flipped open the front cover and saw another copy of the same photo that was in the bedroom on the front page.

‘Can I borrow it to have a proper look?’ I asked her.

‘Yes, if you promise to bring it back. I like to look over it sometimes and reminisce.’

‘I promise.’

I was putting the album in my bag and preparing to leave, when I noticed a series of framed posters on the wall behind Grandma Sylvie’s head. Each had a small illustration and French words written in a swirly font.

‘What are those?’

‘Ah, Gertrude found them at an art exhibition. They make me laugh. Jack loves that middle one the most.’

‘N’oubliez pas de vivre,’ I read aloud. A small girl wearing a red hat was smiling, staring up at a vast blue sky, where a single bird, a tiny ‘V’ shape, was disappearing into the sunset. She immediately made me think of Margot. There was a look of hope on her face and she filled me with a new optimism.

‘What does it mean?’ I’d always been terrible at French, much to Mum’s disappointment.

‘Don’t forget to live.’

‘Don’t forget to live? It’s not