An ancient mansion. Representative image.
Credit: iStock Photo
Jenny and John had a week off from school. They had hoped to have a lot of fun with their friends, but their parents had other plans. “You are off to Marigold Mansion,” announced their father, beaming as if he was sending his children to Europe. “I wish your mother and I could go with you, but we can’t get away from work.”
Jenny and John glanced at each other in dismay. Life would be dull at Marigold Mansion, where there was only Grandma Rose for company and a woman who took care of her.
“Marigold Mansion is in the middle of nowhere, Daddy,” said Jenny. “John and I would prefer to stay here with you and Mummy.”
“Besides,” chimed in John, “Jenny and I have holiday homework. We need to tackle that.”
“You can do so without disturbance at Marigold Mansion,” said their mother. “It’s quiet, there will be no distractions.”
“Jenny and John,” said their father sternly, “surely you can spare some time to visit Grandma Rose. You haven’t met her since she moved from her apartment in town to our renovated family home. Now, hurry up and get ready for the drive to Marigold Mansion.”
After a two-hour journey, the family finally arrived at their destination. Gazing at the stately structure, the twins were impressed. “It’s magnificent,” said Jenny as they walked into the house, “but why Marigold Mansion? There’s not a marigold in sight. In fact, there are hardly any flowering plants.”
Grandma Rose sighed. “There is no gardener,” she said. “It’s not easy to get good help. I’m lucky to have Teresa who looks after me. My father, who was an imaginative man, gave this place its name. Perhaps there were once marigolds in plenty. By the way, he bought the house because he heard it had a trapdoor.”
“A trapdoor!” exclaimed John, exchanging a smilewith his sister.
“We cannot be certain that it exists,” Grandma Rose went on, “but it is believed to lead to a secret chamber. It is possible that your great-grandfather hid a fortune within these walls.”
Over the next few days, the twins spent hours hunting for the trapdoor, which eluded them. They had not been keen to come to Marigold Mansion, but now they wished to stay longer. As they were packing their bags, on the evening before their departure, Jenny felt a bump on the carpet.Moving the rug, she let out a cry. Protruding from a stone, embedded in the floor, was a knob.
When the twins tugged at it, the slab opened to reveal a flight of stairs going into the basement. Climbing down excitedly, they found themselves in a hall full of fascinating objects. With the help of John’s pocket torch, they could make out carved chests and antique furniture, but what held their attention was a marble statue. “Pluto,” whispered Jenny, recognising the ancient Roman deity who ruled the underworld. His presence suited to the dark cellar. Tucked into his trademark helmet of invisibility was a very visible piece of paper.
Recalling that Pluto was also the god of wealth, the twins unfolded it eagerly. It was a map with strange signs and a red dot in the centre. Dreaming of gold and gems, they studied the markings. Deciphering the directions, which proved surprisingly easy to follow, it led them to a ladder reaching upwards.
“That’s odd,” said John, “I was sure the treasure would be in this basement. Anyway, as long as we get rich, how does it matter where our quest concludes?”
What the twins did not expect was that it would end, quite abruptly, at an ordinary entrance that was not even locked. Somewhat disappointed at not having to search for a key, which people usually did in adventure stories, they pushed open the door. To their amazement, they found themselves in an extremely familiar location — their bedroom!
“I hope you don’t mind, my dears,” said their grandmother, who was near the spot from where the twins had descended. “I was afraid that you’d both get bored here, and leave early, so I staged this drama. I longed to keep you with me. You must be disappointed at not finding anything.”
The elderly lady stood there sadly, her face lined more with worry than wrinkles. Simultaneously struck by a remarkable realisation, the twins rushed to hug her. “Actually,” said John, “we have discovered, or rather rediscovered, something valuable.” Jenny nodded, adding softly,“Grandma, your love for us is priceless!”