far more about what went on in the old days than we do.’
Daniel felt, as he often did when history was mentioned, rather like a divorce lawyer expected to have an intimate knowledge of the subtleties of probate. ‘It’s not really my period,’ he said. ‘I’m a nineteenth century man.’
‘You look perfectly modern to me,’ she said.
Simon slipped an arm around her. ‘Hey, no flirting. Daniel’s a respectable academic. You behave yourself in company, do you hear?’
‘Okay, darling,’ she said, pecking him on the cheek. ‘Anything you say.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Anything?’
‘Behave.’
Simon opened a door that gave on to a flight of steps. Half way up, he tripped and barked his knees on the stone. He gave a brief cry of pain but rapidly assured his wife that no harm had been done. The first floor had been turned into a cavernous living space stuffed with antique furnishings. One wall was covered from floor to ceiling with expensively framed watercolours of lakes and mountains, bathed in endless hues of purple and orange. Next to the door, a longcase clock was chiming the hour.
‘Jonas Barber senior of Winster,’ he announced with pride. ‘One of his finest. Not often you find his clocks with a yew case. Of course, Tash chose the antiques, planned all the decor. She’s the one with artistic flair. Not only that, she painted all the pictures. Every single one.’
‘That’s Tarn Fold and the cottage!’ Miranda exclaimed.
Tash was no Turner. In fact, Daniel thought, her daubs were no better than average village art group standard, but she’d at least captured the tranquility of the setting, with the cottage slumbering under the midday sun and a gleam of water beyond. As they contemplated the picture, Tash lifted it from the hook and handed it to Miranda.
‘Take it, please. A housewarming present.’
‘Oh no, we couldn’t possibly…’
‘Don’t say another word, it’s yours,’ she insisted. ‘I’ll ask Jean to make sure it’s safely packed with lots of bubble wrap.’
‘Very determined woman, my wife,’ her husband said. ‘Knows what she wants to do and goes and does it. You may as well give in right now.’
The clock ticked relentlessly until the argument ended with the present being accepted with profuse thanks. As they headed up the stairs again, Miranda asked, ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘Ten years.’ Simon spoke deliberately; he was taking special care not to miss his footing a second time. ‘I was coming out of my first marriage when I looked round this place. I’d always hankered after living in the Lakes, ever since I read
‘I suppose I liked
Tash nodded. ‘Dorothea?’
‘You’re right. Pure escapism.’
‘Yes — well, anyway.’ Tash was blushing, as though the Ransome books were an illicit passion. ‘You two weren’t like Simon, were you? You never harboured a dream of moving to the Lakes.’
‘No,’ Miranda admitted. ‘We moved here pretty much on impulse. Another kind of escapism, if you like.’
‘That’s the Lakes, they put a spell on you,’ he said. ‘The same weekend I set eyes on the Hall, the estate agent invited me to a party and I met Tash. So I fell in love twice within the space of twenty-four hours.’
The upper floors of the tower had been converted into offices and a library. As they climbed to the roof, Daniel thought that the Dumelows were not like a couple who had been together a decade. They kept touching each other, brushing against each other, like lovers in the early days of infatuation, still acclimatising to each other’s bodies. He took it as a good omen for his new life with Miranda. Maybe Brackdale really was a Shangri-La for lovers, removed from the everyday world where romance died all too soon.
The evening air was cool as they stepped out on to the flat roof of the tower and Miranda shivered as she peered over the edge of the battlements. The ground seemed such a long way down. ‘So this was where the locals stood to fire arrows or hurl missiles at their enemies?’
‘That’s right,’ Tash said. ‘Simon has this fantasy that he might do the same if ever any of his business rivals turn up outside our front door.’
‘They’d never be fast enough to catch up with me,’ her husband said. ‘Now, how about that? Beautiful or what?’
Daniel surveyed the panorama beyond the cobbled courtyard and grounds of the Hall. From the gravelled drive, a track led to the farmhouse and a string of outbuildings. A separate lane linked the farmstead to the main road into the village. From the point where the lane petered out, the coffin trail led past fields where the sheep grazed quietly, towards Underfell. His gaze travelled along Priest Edge. The Sacrifice Stone, there was no getting away from the Sacrifice Stone. It stood on top of the ridge, an anvil awaiting a giant blacksmith.
‘I met Tom Allardyce in The Moon under Water,’ Daniel said.
Simon chuckled. ‘Let me guess. He didn’t buy you a pint and make you feel welcome.’
‘Someone said he likes animals more than people.’
‘That’s about right. Although maybe it’s not such a bad fault in a farmer. If foot and mouth had touched Brackdale, I’m sure Tom would have shot the men from the ministry rather than see his beasts destroyed. Allardyces have farmed in Brackdale for centuries, but he’d do better if he was less bloody-minded. We have had a few run-ins over the years. At least his wife’s a treasure. We appreciate her even if he doesn’t.’
‘I gather he has a temper.’
‘Poor Jean,’ Tash said. ‘She’s such a decent woman. You’ll meet her soon, she’s cooking a wonderful meal for us. They’re chalk and cheese, the Allardyces. Jean wouldn’t say boo to a goose. As for Tom, one of these days I’m sure he’ll square up to Simon, and then he’ll have gone too far.’
‘I’ve coped with worse in the building trade,’ Simon said.
‘Let’s not talk about him,’ his wife said. ‘Welcome to Brackdale. I only hope you two will be as happy here as Simon and I have been.’
‘So how are you settling in to Tarn Cottage?’ Tash asked as Jean Allardyce served blueberry swirl cheesecake.
The farm manager’s wife kept scuttling in and out of the dining room like a nervy mouse. She was an excellent cook with a predilection for dishes that made Daniel put on weight simply by looking at them. That Tash retained her lithe figure was a tribute to her gym regime. The workouts must be ferocious to compensate for such a calorie-laden diet.
‘Fine,’ Miranda said. ‘Of course, there’s so much to do and we keep debating the choice of decor. Our tastes aren’t exactly the same, but it would be boring to live with someone who had identical tastes. Like putting yourself through a Xerox machine.’
Daniel said, ‘At least the place is habitable, after weeks of builders coming and going. God knows how the old woman who used to live there coped. It was so primitive.’
‘Mrs Gilpin spent all her life in the valley,’ Tash said. ‘A trip to Lancaster would have been like a visit to a foreign country. She didn’t like change, did she, Jean?’
The housekeeper shook her head. ‘She — she liked to keep herself to herself.’
‘You grew up in the valley?’ Daniel asked her.
‘Yes, but we never had much to do with the Gilpins. The father died when Barrie was a baby. Barrie was a few years younger than me. His mother doted on him but tried not to let it show. She didn’t want him to grow up spoiled and anyway, he had…problems. Everyone thought he was a weirdo, kept a distance. Though I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.’
Daniel nodded. ‘He was likeable, once you got used to him. And no fool, just a bit naive.’
Tash’s eyes widened. ‘You talk as though you met him.’
‘I stayed here when I was a boy,’ he said. ‘For a couple of weeks, Barrie and I became friends. I enjoyed his company. He was gentle, wouldn’t hurt a fly. I find it hard to imagine how he could ever have committed any act of violence. Let alone such a barbaric killing.’
‘Coffee?’ Jean Allardyce asked. Her voice was croaky, as if the mere mention of the murder was enough to
