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Beneath the Shadows
  • Текст добавлен: 24 сентября 2016, 01:13

Текст книги "Beneath the Shadows"


Автор книги: Sara Foster


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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)






Grace held the phone to her ear, irritated that she’d been placed on hold for over five minutes now. She was about to give up when a voice said, ‘I’m sorry, Constable Barton is on holiday until New Year. Unless it’s an emergency …?’

‘No,’ Grace said miserably. ‘It can probably wait.’

She felt incredibly frustrated as she hung up. However, she had one more option. She searched around for the scrap of paper Niall had given her, and dialled the number.

‘Hello?’

‘Niall, it’s Grace – Grace Lockwood.’

‘Grace! How are you?’ He sounded surprised to hear from her.

‘Fine. I’m sorry to ring you over the holidays, but I need your advice.’ Her foot began tapping out a nervous tic as she talked. ‘I just tried to ring Constable Barton but he’s away till after New Year, and I don’t want to sit on my hands till then. A few things have happened over the last few days, concerning Adam’s disappearance …’

‘Go on.’ Niall sounded intrigued.

‘Well, first of all, I went to the Christmas Eve ball at Freeborough Hall – and an old friend of Adam’s came up to me and said she had seen him in the library at Ockton, the day before he disappeared. Apparently he told her he was looking for his dad. Adam’s father was a man called Jonny Templeton – he abandoned Adam’s mother when she got pregnant and moved overseas with his family. So I thought that might be significant …’ She took a deep breath. ‘And then I found his passport. Down in the cellar. Adam had put some boxes there when we moved in, and one of them had his passport in it …’

‘Didn’t the police search there last year?’ Niall asked.

‘It was locked, and I thought it was only a cupboard back then. I think one of the men that conducted the search asked me for the key, but I didn’t know where to find it.’

‘Well, I’m amazed. They shouldn’t have overlooked that.’

Grace furrowed her brow – surely that was beside the point. ‘It doesn’t matter now. I just want to know if this changes anything, with the investigation.’

She was acutely aware of the silence on the other end of the line. ‘Doesn’t this give us some new leads …?’ she begged. There was a tiny note of hysteria in her voice; she could hear it.

‘I’m not sure. Look, you need to talk to Barton. And if the woman you spoke to can come down to the station too, and tell them the same thing she told you, that’d be the best way of getting their attention.’

Grace’s optimism disappeared. ‘I’m not sure she will. She said she hadn’t come forward earlier because she doesn’t want to be involved …’

‘Is that right? And did she say why?’ The suspicion was clear in his voice.

‘No.’

‘Grace, perhaps you should have a think about your loyalty to this woman. She can talk to the police in confidence. No one else needs to know.’

‘In that case I’ll speak to her again, see what she says.’

‘Right then.’ Niall sounded as though he were about to hang up.

‘Isn’t there anything else we can do?’ Grace was aware of how desperate she sounded, and she hated it. Against her will, she was getting sucked back into the emotional turmoil of the last year.

She heard him sigh. ‘Remind me of Adam’s father’s name again?’

‘Jonny Templeton – I think he grew up on a farm around here.’

‘Well, I’ll see what I can find out – might not be for a few days, mind.’

‘Fine,’ Grace said dejectedly. ‘Thank you.’

When she came off the phone she headed downstairs to rejoin the others. Millie was playing with her favourite stacking blocks, while James and Annabel were bickering about what to watch on television. Being cooped up wasn’t suiting them very well.

‘I just asked Niall’s advice about the passport,’ she said. ‘He didn’t sound that interested … which was pretty much what I expected.’ She sat down, trying hard to suppress her exasperation. ‘Adam didn’t simply disappear, I’m sure of that. But I have no idea what happened … How am I ever going to get to the bottom of it?’ With fumbling fingers, she angrily wiped away the tears before they had a chance to fall.

‘Now listen to me, Grace,’ Annabel said, coming across and putting an arm around her sister. ‘This place is no good for you. It’s going to drive you insane. You can’t spend your time obsessing about Adam – because, for whatever reason, he’s gone, and there’s no sign at all that he’s about to come back. James and I will have to head off soon …’

Annabel hesitated and looked at James, who nodded.

Grace sat waiting for the inevitable.

‘We think you should come with us,’ James said. ‘We can’t leave you up here all alone, Gracie. It’s not right at all. It would feel like abandoning you, and this place is far too … well … remote,’ he finished.

‘Mum and Dad are really worried about you,’ Annabel added.

Grace ran a hand through her hair. ‘Look, I know you’re saying this because you love me, but I need to finish what I’ve started. It won’t take long.’

Annabel leaned back and blew out a long, frustrated breath. ‘Grace, this village is sucking the life out of you – you’re so serious all the time.’

Grace had had enough. She stood up. ‘I don’t think it’s this place, actually. I think I sobered up a bit when my husband disappeared on me and my child.’ She went across to Millie and picked her up to cuddle her, upset when Millie screamed and struggled until she was put back down.

‘Grace, listen to us,’ James insisted. ‘You and Millie need looking after, and there’s no chance of that while you live up here. Annabel’s right, this isn’t good for you. Where’s the fun-loving girl we used to know, who could barely stand a day without going somewhere different or trying something new? Just look at yourself right now.’

‘I wouldn’t be feeling like this if you two could start supporting me instead of antagonising me,’ Grace retorted. ‘And I think you have forgotten that I have a baby now – much more has changed in my life than just my location. Besides, you live in Switzerland – I’ll never see you, James, even if I do move back to London. What kind of support is that?’

‘I’m thinking of moving back,’ he replied.

‘Oh.’ She looked at him, unsure what to say – they were getting completely sidetracked.

‘Listen, I’m not isolated …’ she said testily, trying to get the discussion back on course. ‘I’ve got Ben, and Meredith, and Claire, and Emma …’

Annabel threw her hands up in the air. ‘For God’s sake, Grace. You hardly know any of them!’

They all glared at one another.

‘I’m going for a walk,’ Grace told them defiantly.

Annabel shook her head then turned away. ‘Of course you are, Grace. That’s your solution for everything nowadays.’

Grace was already on her way out. ‘Just mind Millie for me,’ she called irritably over her shoulder. ‘I won’t be long.’

By the time she reached her front gate, she could feel the tears streaking down her face. Why did everyone she loved want to make things so much harder? James and Annabel’s attitude was really getting to her. Life wasn’t always about taking the easy option: sometimes there were things that needed to be done.

She stomped up the road, the hardened snow crunching under her feet, until she reached Feathery Jack’s place. The chimney was puffing as usual, and in the front garden two small barn owls sat together on one perch. They barely moved, only the occasional twist of their heads signalling that they were alive. Sturdy leather straps were looped around their legs, and Grace felt sorry for them. She walked closer to the fence, glancing at their heart-shaped faces, their speckled breasts, the sharp hooks of their talons. The pure white among their dappled feathers stood out against the greying crust of snow.

‘Come on over, then, lass.’

The voice came from the doorway, and then a gaunt old man appeared, beckoning her closer. His face was a scrunch of wrinkled skin beneath tufts of white hair. He wore a tweed jacket a few sizes too big for him, and his trousers were tied tight around his ankles with string. A pipe dangled from his mouth, jiggling up and down as he moved. He came across and opened the gate for her, and she followed him towards the owls. ‘Stroke her on her belly, like.’ He looked expectantly at Grace. She tentatively touched the owl’s soft feathers. Its beak looked razor sharp, but the owl sat stoically and didn’t move.

She stood back. ‘I’m Grace, I live at Hawthorn Cottage.’

He gave no indication that he’d heard her. Instead he went back into the cottage for a moment, then came out holding something small, which he offered to one of the owls. It was snatched in an instant from his outstretched fingers. As the bird gripped the item in his talon and began to tear at it, Grace saw it was a dead mouse. She watched as skin was ripped away to reveal raw red flesh, feeling revolted.

‘Er, thank you!’ she said after a while, unable to bear it any longer. The old man didn’t even acknowledge her, heading back towards his cottage again.

She let herself out through the gate, unsure whether to go home to try and make peace, or carry on walking. As she wavered, the door to the redbrick house opened, and Ben emerged with Bess on a lead. He raised a hand when he saw her, and then did the same to Jack, who was heading back across his garden. The old man called, ‘Now then,’ as he offered the second owl a dead mouse.

‘I was going to come and see you later,’ Ben said as he drew near. ‘To find out when you want to start work again on your cottage?’

Grace smiled. ‘As soon as possible, but I think I need to wait until the others have left. It’s far too crowded in there at the moment.’

Her face or voice must have reflected her downcast thoughts, as Ben asked, ‘Everything all right?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Not really.’ She bit back the tears, feeling foolish, not wanting to cry in front of him.

‘Would you like to take a walk with me and Bess? You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We’ll just keep you company.’

‘That would be good. Though I can’t leave Millie for too long.’

‘Don’t worry – we weren’t going far anyway. Perhaps we won’t go through the fields this time, eh?’

As she laughed despite herself, she saw the lines around his eyes deepen as he grinned.

They were only gone for half an hour, but Grace felt so much better on her return to the cottage. They had walked in silence for a while, then Ben had begun to talk about the plans for the renovations, what they should do next. She had confessed her worries about the time it might take, and he had reassured her, saying that once they got started and she could see it all unfolding she’d feel a lot better.

When she got home, however, her mood came crashing down again. Millie was fractious and clung to her. Annabel took herself off upstairs while James fixed them all lunch. Grace tried to talk to him but he gave her one-word answers, and she could feel the anger radiating from him even though his back was turned. She wondered if he was still upset at their earlier disagreement, but whatever it was, nothing could shake him out of it.

In the evening, after Millie had gone to bed, they got out a deck of cards and went through the motions, but no one had their heart in it. Grace tried to tell them about her encounter with Feathery Jack and his owls, but could see they weren’t interested. She was debating whether she could excuse herself for bed at eight o’clock without inviting a barrage of sarcasm when, without warning, they were plunged into blackness.

‘What the hell …?’ Annabel cried.

‘I’ve seen the mains box down in the cellar.’ Grace sighed, thinking that it was the perfect end to the day. ‘I’ll get a torch and check it out.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ she heard James say, and then there came the sound of his chair scraping along the floor as he stood up.

Grace collected the torch, and they made their way along to the cellar. She went gingerly down the steps, feeling James close behind her. At the bottom, she directed the torch beam towards the wall, shining it along until she located the box. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘the switch should be in there …’

‘Wait a minute, Grace,’ James said. She swung around, and he took the torch from her. She briefly made out his eyes in the dim light, the contrast between the white sclerae and dark irises. Then she felt his fingers brush her cheek, and his lips were pressing against hers.

Grace was stunned. James took this as a welcome sign, and dropped the torch, hands cupping her face now, kissing her harder. As he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into him, her body began to crave this physical contact, and she collapsed against him, kissing him back. He was so solid, so reassuring. In the dark it might not be James. It could be anyone – and the tremble that ran through her had a thrill of desire in it. She was dissolving, becoming a million tangled threads of sensation, when the lights snapped back on.

And something else clicked into place in her head.

James opened his eyes, as Grace watched him with the horrible realisation that their friendship had just turned in on itself. She saw the small flicker of his eyes trying to reach her, searching for somewhere he might comfortably settle within her gaze; and the dull veils of disappointment that descended as he found none. His whole body seemed to pull itself into a stiffer pose with one enormous effort of will, and he bent down to pick up the dropped torch. Grace knew they had just lost something between them that might never be found again.

‘Come on.’ He headed for the stairs without looking back, and she followed him.

Upstairs, Annabel looked bemusedly at both their faces. ‘What happened?’

‘The lights came on before we even touched the box,’ Grace said.

‘Really?’ Annabel glanced around. ‘Perhaps this cottage does have a ghost, after all – switching the lights on and off and stopping and starting the clock.’

‘Don’t say that.’

Annabel saw Grace’s face and laughed. ‘Come on, I was joking. Don’t get paranoid on me. Now, where were we?’

James picked up his cards, took a brief look at them and threw them back on the table. ‘I’m done,’ he said. ‘Think I’ll have an early night. It’s time I went home – I’ve got a long drive tomorrow.’

Annabel stared at him in astonishment, then at Grace for an explanation.

Grace pursed her lips, and glanced away.

They left James buried under a duvet on the sofa, and went up to bed. They both got ready in silence and then Grace put out the light. She lay there, knowing Annabel was awake.

‘Something happened between you two just then,’ Annabel said.

Grace didn’t reply.

‘You’re all over the place, Grace. You have to make up your mind what you want before we can help you.’

Grace heard Annabel roll over, and gathered that was her sister’s way of saying goodnight.







James was up and ready to leave by the time Grace headed downstairs with Millie the next morning. She put Millie on the floor, and then looked at him, weighing up how much she dared to say. ‘Don’t leave like this,’ she pleaded.

James came across to her and stroked her cheek, his face so forlorn that it made her want to cry. ‘It’s been lovely spending Christmas with you, Grace,’ he said. ‘But nothing’s ever going to change, is it?’

He knelt on the ground next to Millie. ‘Bye, little lady.’

Millie crawled rapidly over to Grace and clung to her mother’s leg.

‘I’m always here for you,’ he told her fiercely, getting to his feet. He picked up his bags and walked towards the door. ‘Say goodbye to Annabel for me.’

And then he let himself out.

Grace stood by the door, using all her strength to resist the urge to follow him. She knew it would be for her own comfort, and would intimate to James that she wanted something more than his friendship. It wasn’t fair to do that to him. So she listened to his car starting up and driving off, the engine noise getting fainter and fainter until it petered out. Then she sat down, feeling bereft, studying the frost that had formed intricate patterns on the window.

Annabel appeared moments later. ‘Has James gone already?’ she asked in surprise. ‘I heard his car.’

Grace nodded. ‘He said to say goodbye.’

Annabel had softened this morning. She perched on the arm of Grace’s chair. ‘What happened?’

‘He tried to kiss me last night …’

‘Really? I thought he was over all that …’ She leaned back and blew out her breath.

They sat without speaking for a little while, then Annabel sprang up. ‘Jeez, how could I have been so stupid? I’m running through so many things in my head right now, and seeing them differently.’

‘Really?’ Grace asked. ‘Like what?’

‘Well, like yesterday, for one. He followed you outside, a few minutes after you left – and came back in looking really annoyed, saying he’d seen you walking off with Ben.’

Grace felt obliged to explain. ‘I met him when I went out, and he offered to walk with me …’

Annabel said nothing in reply. Grace couldn’t decipher her expression.

‘Bel, are you interested in Ben …?’

Annabel looked at her, amused. ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘He’s just the most handsome bloke around here to have some fun with. Anyway, he lives in Australia, Grace – I’m all for long-distance romance, but that’s taking it a bit far.’

They were interrupted by a loud crash. James marched into the lounge, leaving the front door wide open, an icy blast of air rushing through the cottage. His face was an angry red.

‘The road is coated in black ice – the bloody car keeps skidding on the damn hill. I can’t even get out of this sodding place …’

‘You’ll never get past the schoolhouse,’ Annabel said. ‘It’s really steep.’

There was a rap on the door, and a moment later Ben poked his head into the lounge room. ‘I heard you having trouble out there, mate,’ he said, looking at James. ‘Can I give you a hand? If you’re able to turn the car around I’ll tow you up this way. It’s not as steep – you can still get onto the motorway, it’s just a bit of a longer way round.’

James muttered a curse, and stormed out again. Ben looked across at the two women in confusion, and then followed James.

Annabel went over to the window, Grace behind her. Soon after the men disappeared, they heard the distant noises of engines, then saw Ben’s Land Rover go past, closely followed by James’s hired Passat, both men staring grimly ahead.

‘Poor James,’ Annabel said, one eyebrow raised, and then collapsed in laughter. Grace joined in, but it felt more like a necessary release than true mirth.

When Annabel sobered, she patted Grace’s arm. ‘Don’t worry, Grace, he’ll be fine – he loves you too much just to disappear out of your life.’

Annabel hadn’t seen his crushed expression last night, Grace thought, but she hoped her sister was right. Then she registered what Annabel had said.

He loves you too much just to disappear out of your life.

Had Adam not loved her enough? Was that it? Should she be trying to come to terms with it and move on, rather than dredging through the past like this?

It would mean letting go of her faith in him. Was she ready to do that? What if one day, against all the odds, he reappeared, and after he explained, she would understand.

But she didn’t really believe it would happen. Such ideas might release her fears for a while, but in the long term she was binding herself to empty promises. Because if she really knew Adam as well as she thought, then the only reason he wouldn’t come back was if he couldn’t.







By the time they walked up to the schoolhouse to see Meredith, the snow had receded to the point where they could crunch through it in their Wellingtons; but now it glittered with crystals, forming patches of slick ice, and it took them twice as long to reach the gravel drive as it had done the last time. Grace was glad they had taken Millie in the pushchair, as it was slightly less precarious than carrying her.

‘Meredith definitely agreed to this?’

‘Relax, Grace, she was fine about it,’ Annabel replied, trudging along next to her.

Before they’d even turned off the road, they could hear children squealing. As they watched, three boys raced into view, padded out in thick coats, hats, scarves and gloves. They stopped their chase for a moment, gaping at Grace and Annabel.

‘Is your grandma here?’ Grace asked, at which the youngest boy came over, took her by the hand, and pulled her along towards the side of the house, leaving Annabel and Millie behind.

‘No!’ Grace said in protest, having to run to keep up, ‘I think she’d rather we knocked.’ But the child just giggled, and then burst through a door into a large kitchen. For a brief moment Grace hoped she might be able to sneak out again, but a couple she had never seen before had abruptly curtailed their conversation and turned to stare.

‘Sorry,’ Grace said, as the boy who had brought her disappeared through another door. ‘I was looking for Meredith.’

‘Ah,’ said the woman, coming forward with her hand outstretched. ‘You must be Annabel. Mum said you were coming. I’m Veronica, her eldest, and this is my husband Steve.’

Veronica was wearing jeans and a jumper, but Steve was in a suit and tie, as though he had just come from work. As he came across to shake Grace’s hand, Meredith’s dog Pippa barged through the inner door. The animal flew across the room, jumping up at Grace and sending her staggering backwards beneath its weight. Grace tried to catch the dog’s paws to steady herself, but she was pushed out of the kitchen door into the garden, landing with a thump on the snow.

Annabel rounded the corner with Millie, as Steve rushed outside and grabbed the dog’s collar. ‘Pippa, come here,’ he ordered, leading her back indoors.

‘Are you all right?’ Veronica asked apologetically, offering Grace a hand up. ‘I’m sorry. Bobby shouldn’t have let her out.’

‘I’m fine,’ Grace said when she was on her feet, dusting herself off. ‘I’m Grace. This is Annabel.’ She looked towards Annabel to find that her sister was almost doubled up laughing, and gave her a pretend scowl. ‘And this is my daughter, Millie.’

Millie was leaning forward in the pushchair, her mouth hanging open as she looked between her mother and the door where the dog had disappeared.

‘Come on in,’ Veronica said. ‘We’ll give Mum a shout. Hasn’t this weather been awful? Mind you, it keeps the kids busy – they’ve been out playing in it all day.’

Once they were inside, Steve indicated an open bottle of wine. ‘Can I get you both a drink?’

‘One of those would be lovely,’ Annabel agreed.

‘Water’s fine for me, thanks,’ Grace said. ‘Did you all have a good Christmas?’

‘Great, great,’ Veronica replied. ‘The snow’s made it difficult to get back to Ockton, so we’ve been staying here. I don’t think Mum was banking on us all being here for so long, but she’s coping very well.’

‘She loves it,’ Steve said. ‘I’ve given her a shout, she’ll be here in a second.’

At that moment, Meredith appeared. As usual, the older woman had composed her expression to one of courteous welcome, and it was impossible to tell if there was genuine feeling behind it.

‘Hello, Meredith,’ Annabel said, but Meredith was looking at Grace.

‘I didn’t know you were coming, Grace.’

Grace was caught off-guard – was she not welcome now? ‘I wanted a word with you.’

The older woman’s eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘Come through to the lounge, then,’ she said.

Grace unbuckled Millie from her pushchair, and followed Annabel through the house. They entered a cosy lounge room where a fire was blazing. Pippa sat by the hearth, and began to get up as they approached, until Meredith commanded, ‘Stay.’ The dog lay back down again and put her head on her paws.

Meredith made a formidable matriarch, Grace thought. Not someone to get on the wrong side of. She hadn’t seen any photos of Ben around the place, and wondered how his mother felt about his return to the village.

Meredith invited them to sit on a sofa, and perched on a chair, facing them. Grace had brought a few small board books to keep Millie entertained, and now she sat her daughter on her lap and handed her the pile.

‘Right,’ Meredith said, ‘I’m happy to answer questions, Annabel, but I don’t want my photograph taken.’

‘All right then,’ Annabel agreed, fishing a notepad and pen from her bag. ‘I’ll find something else.’ She looked beyond Meredith for a moment. ‘That’s a really unusual fireplace.’

Grace looked at the tall post which was standing beside the fireplace, strange markings carved into the top.

‘That’s a witching post,’ Meredith said, without turning around. She looked at the sisters, registering their apprehensive glances. ‘My grandfather knocked down some crumbling old cottages that had been here for centuries when he built this house. The witching post was found in one and he set it into the fireplace – he was too superstitious not to.’

‘And what is a witching post?’ Annabel queried, staring spellbound at the hearth.

‘There are various legends – mostly to do with them offering protection from witches,’ Meredith told them. ‘But you’re here to ask me about Timmy …’

‘Yes.’ Annabel shifted in her seat. ‘So, you say you have the ghost of a young child living with you?’

‘We do have Timmy’s ghost living with us,’ Meredith replied sternly.

‘Have you ever seen him?’

‘No. But as I told you before, two of my girls have – and I’m sure they’ll tell you about it if you ask them. I’ve only heard the banging of doors, and a child’s laughter, which are the more obvious indications of his presence … but there are subtle things too – usually items being moved around in certain rooms. And he also has a fondness for playing with the time on our mantelpiece clock.’

Grace started upon hearing this, and caught Meredith’s eye briefly, before Annabel diverted their attention, asking, ‘When was the first time you became aware of his presence?’

‘There have been stories in my family for years,’ Meredith told them, ‘but I never experienced him as a young child. He became more active in the seventies … my father always said it was because …’ Meredith stopped.

‘… Because?’ Annabel encouraged.

‘… Because I had young children in the house,’ Meredith finished, looking briefly at her hands as she spoke, then back at Annabel. ‘Perhaps my brood reminded him of when the place was a school, and he hoped to join in with their games.’

Grace looked down at Millie, who was still busy with her books. She was glad Millie wouldn’t understand the topic of conversation.

‘And when was the last time anyone saw him?’ Annabel asked.

‘It was when Jenny was a child. She was playing in her room and saw a young boy standing in the doorway, watching her. But she wasn’t frightened.’

‘No one’s seen him since?’

‘No, Annabel, I’m afraid not.’

‘So can you describe what it’s like, living with a ghost?’

Meredith gave a weary sigh. ‘It’s like living without a ghost, except for a few unexpected bumps and bangs now and again, and having to hunt for your pens or papers because the little scamp has moved them.’

‘It doesn’t scare you?’

Meredith gave a tight smile. ‘No, it doesn’t. It’s probably the least of my worries, in fact. Sorry.’

Annabel sighed. ‘Well, if there’s anything else you think of that might be interesting – now or later – could you let me know?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘And would you mind if I call again if I have any more questions?’

‘That’s fine.’ Meredith got to her feet. ‘Now, I’d better check how the cooking is going. Would you like a word with Veronica, while she’s here?’

‘Yes please,’ Annabel perked up, but before Meredith could leave, Grace set Millie on the floor and stood up. ‘Actually, Meredith, I have something to ask you as well – on a different subject.’

Meredith stopped in her tracks and turned slowly back around.

‘I’m trying to trace Jonny Templeton,’ Grace explained. ‘Can you tell me where he lived before he moved to Australia?’

‘Of course,’ Meredith said, and Grace thought she heard a trace of disdain in her voice. ‘Gilldale – a little village near Ockton. His family had a farm there called Riverview. His sister didn’t go to Australia with the family, she got married to an Ockton man and moved into town. I think she still lives there. She might be able to help you.’

‘Great – do you know her name?’

‘Josephine,’ Meredith replied. ‘I’ll let you know if I think of anything else, shall I?’

Grace nodded. ‘Thank you for your help.’

‘I’ll ask Veronica to come in now,’ Meredith said over her shoulder as she left the room.

While they waited, it was clear to Grace that her sister had been riled by Meredith’s offhand manner. Annabel looked like she were about to start talking, but Grace muttered, ‘Not now.’ A few moments later, a face poked hesitantly around the door.

‘Mum said you wanted to see me?’

‘Yes.’ Annabel indicated the sofa opposite her with a wave of her pad. ‘I’d love to ask you a few questions – about Timmy.’

Veronica regarded them worriedly.

‘The ghost?’ Annabel prompted.

Veronica closed the door gently behind her and sat down. ‘Look, Annabel, this is a bit embarrassing – what’s Mum told you?’

‘That you and Jenny saw Timmy as children.’

Veronica seemed sheepish. ‘Okay, please don’t tell Mum this … but … we made it up. We were attention-seeking … If we’d known Mum would tell these stories until the end of time, we might have thought twice. I’m not saying he doesn’t exist, but I don’t think either of us wants to start talking about him with a journalist. Can you drop it? I’m really sorry.’

Annabel sat back and closed her eyes for a moment. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll work something else out.’

Grace could see that her sister was inwardly seething. She sat there embarrassed, as Veronica asked, ‘Would you like to stay for another drink?’

Before Annabel could say anything, Grace answered, ‘No, it’s fine, we need to get back for lunch. Thanks anyway.’

Veronica showed them out. They set off in silence, but as soon as they were away from the house Annabel blurted, ‘Well, that’s my story down the toilet.’

‘Come on, Bel, there are loads of ghost stories around here. You’ll just have to think of a new angle.’

‘That’s not the point,’ Annabel grumbled, and they lapsed back into silence.

A few minutes later, Grace saw Jenny and Claire crossing the bridge and heading up the hill towards them. She wondered if they had been to see their brother, and was about to give them a wave, when Claire looked up and saw them, then threaded her arm through Jenny’s. There was something out of place about the gesture, Grace thought. Something that made her keep her arm by her side as they got closer. When they passed one another, Claire said a cheerful hello, but both women kept up their stride.


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