Free Mostly Sunny with a Chance of Storms by Marion Roberts Page A

door. The radio faded out as if it had been switched off at the wall, and Settimio appeared in the doorway, leaning on one crutch. Obviously this time he’d been expecting me.
    ‘Come!’ he said, motioning with his head. ‘Inside.’
    The kitchen was hobbit-house small, with a round wooden table in the middle and a real wood stove with a fire inside. Off the kitchen was a door to the sitting room and I could see old Marmalade in there, safely asleep on a chair. I put the chemist parcel on the kitchen table.
    ‘There you go, Settimio,’ I said politely. ‘Do you need help with anything else?’ I was hoping like crazy he’d say no, so I could scoot off as soon as possible, but then I noticed the shoe box on the table. The one I’d seen through the telescope. Sitting on top was a heart-shaped locket on a silver chain. I was overcome with curiosity.
    ‘That’s nice,’ I said, pointing to the locket.
    Settimio looked at me suspiciously before picking it up and opening the tiny heart-shaped frame.
    ‘Your grandmother was
good
woman,’ he said, like an accusation. ‘It belongs to her; I find it buried in the garden.For many years now I have kept this locket.’
    ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘If you found it, why didn’t you give it back to her?’ It was becoming glaringly obvious to me that not only was Settimio a dog-and-child-hater but clearly also a thief. My thoughts were interrupted by Settimio handing me the locket.
    ‘Not lost.’ He scolded. ‘Carmelene, she throw away.’ He flicked the air with one hand as though he was tossing confetti into a gusty wind. ‘When your Grandfather Henry leave.’
    I looked closely at the tiny photograph inside. It was Grandpa Henry all right. I recognised him from other photos I’d seen.
    ‘He brok-ed her heart. She never trust again.’
    ‘I know, double betrayal,’ I said. ‘It’s the worst kind. Mum told me.’
    Settimio took my two hands in his and closed all our hands around the locket.
    ‘You have, Sunday. It is yours. Carmelene would like it to be in this manner.’ He squeezed my hands together for a moment and gave them two solid shakes, as if he was sealing the deal and there were to be no arguments.
    ‘Wow, thanks,’ I said, gently releasing his grip and wondering why he was suddenly being so nice to me. It was dead confusing I can tell you.
    But one thing I did understand was that Settimioreally missed Granny Carmelene, and that he’d known her for a lot longer than I had. I know it seems obvious, but I guess with him being so mean and all, I just hadn’t been able to imagine him and Granny Carmelene being friends. He must have been having mountains of sad thoughts. Mountains. Maybe he needed Bruce and Terry?

    I didn’t tell Mum about the locket. I don’t know why. I put it in my bedside table on top of Finn’s letter. But beforehand, I looked at it more closely. It had a silver engraving of an angel on the outside of the heart. I remembered back to my secret trip to Tasmania with Granny Carmelene, and how she’d held my hand deep down in King Solomon’s Cave. And how I’d seen an angel disappearing up and out of a crack in the ceiling towards the light.
    I turned off my lamp and waited until my eyes adjusted to the dark. I could just make out the outline of the cypress trees by Settimio’s cottage, and for the first time I felt comforted by the idea that he was living down there and wondered if Granny Carmelene had felt the same way. I was thankful that she had had Settimio to watch over her for all those years. And maybe, just maybe, it could be possible that if I liked Granny Carmelene and Granny Carmelene liked me, and Granny Carmelene liked Settimio, and Settimio liked her, then possibly, just possibly, one day Settimio and I might like one another too.

12.
    I woke up the next morning thinking about Finn, which was slightly disturbing, because usually I woke up and simply thought about breakfast. So even though writing a letter kind of felt