died.’ She paused, then shook her head as though clearing unpleasant memories. ‘Adam was a rather intense young man, I remember that… but I put it down to grieving rather than character. He was terribly young to be without his mother.’ Meredith looked intently towards the picture window as she spoke, as though something was visible to her in the darkness.
Grace felt her curiosity growing. ‘Did you know Adam’s father?’ Adam hadn’t talked about him much – the topic was obviously painful so she had never pressed it.
‘Yes, I knew him.’ Meredith’s mouth tightened into a grim line. ‘Jonathan Templeton – he lived on a farm not far away. Everyone around here knew him – he was quite the catch. Rachel was madly in love with him. From what I’ve learned since, I gather he got her pregnant just before his family emigrated to Australia on one of those ten- pound tickets. So he fled from the responsibility. And afterwards she ran away…’
‘Adam didn’t know much about him,’ Grace confided. ‘He knew his name, and that Rachel ran off to stay with some friends in York when she was pregnant, gave birth to Adam there. When Adam was two she began a love affair that lasted the rest of her life – although she never married the man; they never even lived together. He was well off, apparently, and took care of Rachel and Adam financially. It was only after Rachel died that Adam found out he already had a wife and two children. Adam never spoke to him again after that.’
Meredith had stopped eating to listen, as Grace trailed off. Had a new baby and their return to the cottage triggered unpleasant memories for Adam? He had been so in love with Millie from the first moment he held her. But he must have wished that his mother could have seen her grandchild. And he surely would have dwelled on what it meant to him to be a dad, having never known his real father, and feeling ultimately betrayed by the man who had taken on the role instead. What were his deepest feelings about fatherhood? Where might they have driven him to?
Grace put her knife and fork down, her pulse beginning to race. She picked up a napkin to wipe Millie’s hands, trying to hide her distress, when Meredith set her cutlery down on her empty plate, placed her arms on the table, leaned forward and said, ‘Actually, Grace, there’s something I want to talk to you about.’
Grace stopped what she was doing, wary of Meredith’s purposeful tone.
‘I’d like to buy Hawthorn Cottage.’
‘Oh,’ Grace answered, astonished. She let go of Millie’s hands and sat back. ‘The thing is, I can’t sell it right now, even if I wanted to. Adam put it in joint names, so there are legal issues while he is missing…’
‘I suspected that might be the case,’ Meredith said, without missing a beat. ‘But if you’re interested in my proposition, my son-in-law Stephen is a solicitor – I can ask him to look into it further, see if there’s anything you can do. I’d be happy to make some sort of arrangement. Perhaps rent it now, with a view to buying it in future.’
Grace had been caught completely off-guard. As Meredith held her gaze, she wondered if these meals had been nothing more than buttering her up. She’d thought that Meredith was being friendly, but perhaps there had always been more to it.
‘Why would you want to do that?’ she asked.
‘Well, I’d like to sell this place eventually. None of my girls want to live here, and it’ll be too big for me to manage on my own as I get older. I’d enjoy a bit of travelling with the extra money, but I’ve lived in this village all my life – I want to stay put. Hawthorn Cottage would be just right for me. I could sublet it until I’m ready to move in myself.’
This seemed an entirely reasonable explanation, but Grace still didn’t want to be rushed into any promises she might regret. ‘I appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure what I want to do yet…’ she said. ‘Let me think about it.’
There was an awkward lull in conversation, as Meredith got up without a word and began collecting their plates. She disappeared through to the kitchen, and Grace waited uneasily for her to come back. A moment later, Meredith returned with a large bowl of trifle. She sat down and began to ladle a portion into a bowl, her spoon repeatedly striking the china with a harsh clang. ‘I’m sorry, Grace, I didn’t mean to put you in a difficult position. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought it up. I had imagined you wouldn’t want to stay around – I thought I might be doing you a favour… maybe I presumed a bit too much. But think about what I’ve said, won’t you, and let me know if you’d like to discuss it further.’
‘Thank you,’ Grace replied, accepting the bowl of dessert that Meredith held out to her. ‘You took me by surprise, but I’ll certainly consider it.’
‘Right, then.’ Meredith was all brisk and businesslike now. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
As they finished their meal, Meredith’s interest in Hawthorn Cottage hung in the air between them. Grace felt wrong-footed, all too aware that she was alone in this big old house with only this austere woman and a resident ghost for company. Meanwhile, Meredith kept up a steady stream of conversation about local concerns: the extension of the railway line, the ridiculous price of oil heating, her fight with the council to get the one streetlight in the village working again. Grace half-listened as she turned Meredith’s words over in her mind.
Millie had been set down from her high chair, and for a time she sat on the floor playing with her toys contentedly, but as the evening drew on she began to cling to her mother’s legs more and more, yawning and grizzling.
‘I think I should get her to bed soon.’ Grace set down her empty cup. ‘Can I help you clear up?’
‘No need,’ Meredith said. ‘It was nice to have the company.’
Grace collected the toys together and lifted Millie onto her hip. She felt she should reciprocate Meredith’s generosity with a meal invitation, but her culinary skills were nowhere near as good, and anyway the kitchen was out of action at the moment.
Meredith showed them to the door and held out a hand. ‘Thank you for coming, Grace. And remember to consider my offer, won’t you?’
‘I will,’ Grace assured her. She walked to the car, put Millie in her seat and clicked the buckles together, then had to spray the windscreen with de-icer before she could start the engine. While she did all this, Meredith stood motionless in the doorway, her body backlit by the lights behind her so that all Grace could see was her silhouette. As Grace began to reverse, she waved, but Meredith didn’t move before they drove out of sight.
14
On Saturday morning, Ben arrived at the front door, toolbox in hand, to clear up the final debris from knocking down the wall. The last couple of days had been difficult for Grace – Millie wasn’t napping well and so she had got little done. She was glad to have made a start on the work, but now looked forward to the break for Christmas. Besides, she missed the kitchen. She’d eaten packet noodles for two nights in a row, and was desperate to cook herself a meal.
Meredith’s offer kept running through her mind, although she had made it without knowing of the renovations underway. Perhaps it wouldn’t stand now anyway. But what if it did? In that case, did Grace really need to be here, resurrecting the past?
She had had a restless night last night. No demonic dogs had appeared to her, but instead, she had dreamed of Adam. He was trying to tell her something, his face frantic, sometimes with worry, sometimes with fear. He looked to be shouting the words, but there was only silence. At one stage he had raised his arms and Grace had seen that he was behind thick glass as he banged his hands on it, over and over.
She had woken numb with cold, to a darkness so absolute that she couldn’t see her fingers held an inch from her face. For a moment it felt as though she no longer existed at all. Shaking, she fumbled frantically for the bedside light switch. The room lit up. Everything in place, at rest.
She had taken long, deep breaths, and when she felt calmer had picked up
