‘There’s something else I just remembered– the shed out back. It’s where Matilda used to store a lot of her personal things: old photos, tapes, even some of her old equipment. There could be something in there.’
Fern’s pulsed raced. ‘You didn’t think to mention this sooner?’
Daniel looked sheepish. ‘I forgot.’ He gestured towards the back of the shop. ‘Come on, let’s take a look.’
They stepped outside the back door and headed down to the weathered shed at the bottom of the garden, partially hidden behind overgrown ivy. The door creaked open and Fern followed Daniel inside. The light was dim, casting long shadows over the piles of old trunks and forgotten crates that littered the space.
‘Help me with this,’ Daniel said, lifting a crate off a stack of boxes. It was heavy, but they managed to pull it free. Inside, they found old photos. ‘Look at this, a very young Matilda sitting at a piano.’
Fern pulled out an old film projector. It was covered in dust, but it was still in surprisingly good condition. Next to it were several boxes containing reels of film, all unlabelled. ‘What do you think these are?’
Daniel’s eyes lit up as he pulled a few more reels out of a crate. ‘There’s only one way to find out; we’ll have to take a look.’
* * *
They spent the next few hours sorting through the crates, sifting through old letters, photographs and more reels of film. Each one seemed to tell a different story, a snapshot of a life once lived in vibrant detail. The further they dug, the more they felt like they were uncovering a hidden world, one that had been sealed away for years.
Finally, Daniel found something that made his heart skip a beat. He pulled out a reel labelled simply ‘Matilda Puffin Island 1963’.
‘This is the earliest one we have. Let’s have a look at it,’ said Fern.
They rushed back inside the shop, bringing the projector with them. Fern carefully threaded the reel, her fingers trembling slightly as she set it into the machine. They plugged the projector in and it stuttered to life with a whirr. Fern sat on a chair while Daniel fiddled with the old machine. There was light and movement, then the wheel began to turn and an image appeared on the wall before them.
Matilda looked young and radiant, running barefoot across the sand at what appeared to be Blue Water Bay. Her hair streamed behind her and she wore a white linen dress that clung to her knees in the wind. Behind her were the cliffs filled with puffins. There was no sound, just the soft mechanical clicking of the projector. They watched in silence as Matilda twirled once, laughing, before a young man ran into frame. He was tall, dark-haired, with a shy smile.
‘Is that him?’
‘That’s Nathaniel,’ Fern confirmed.
The reel jumped and jittered. Even in fuzzy black-and-white, there was no mistaking the two young people were in love. They chased each other playfully along the shore, and then Matilda grabbed Nathaniel’s hand and pulled him towards the camera. For a moment, he looked directly into the lens.
Then: a cut.
New footage began. They were indoors now. Matilda was wearing the same dress but with her hair now pinned back. She sat at a dark upright piano. The camera wobbled slightly before zooming in slowly.
The film caught Matilda’s hands moving with precision across the keys. The camera zoomed in again, shakier now. Resting on the piano was a sheet of paper covered with scribbles, and a pencil. Matilda paused mid-chord, reached for the pencil and added a couple of bars to the staff.
‘She’s writing music,’ observed Fern.
‘She looks like she’s upset,’ added Daniel.
Tears had started trickling down Matilda’s face and when she stopped for a moment Nathaniel walked into the frame and hugged her before she carried on.
‘Sheisupset,’ confirmed Fern. ‘Why is she crying?’
Daniel shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. Maybe the music is emotional and she’s feeling it?’
Matilda added more notes and the camera zoomed in on her name, written in looping, elegant script.
Fern gave a tiny gasp. ‘That’s the composition we have. It’s exactly the same as the one in the safe. She definitely wrote it and composed the music, not Nathaniel.’
Daniel stared at her. ‘Is this proof enough?’
‘Surely it is.’
Onscreen, Matilda carried on playing then scribbling. The film ended and the screen faded to white.
Fern turned to Daniel. ‘We have to show this to someone.’
