Grace expected him to decline, but he answered, ‘If you like.’
‘Great! I’ll pop by later and we can plan a trip.’ Annabel looked at her sister and winked. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Grace? I won’t distract him for long.’
Ben was already in the hallway, and Grace was glad that he couldn’t see her face as she replied, ‘Of course not.’
15
‘So,’ Annabel said a few hours later, looking around the living room, ‘shall we loll here getting drunk, or shall we get stuck in to a few of these boxes?’
‘How about both?’ Grace suggested, surprised and grateful for the offer, going over to the kitchen area and returning with a bottle of red wine.
‘Great idea!’ Annabel grabbed a glass and held it out. Once it had been filled, she knelt by the boxes. ‘So, how do you want to go about it?’
‘Well, I’ve been tipping them out one at a time and sorting everything into three piles: keep, throw away, and give to charity.’
‘Right-o,’ Annabel said, grabbing the box closest to her and dumping its contents onto the carpet before Grace could object. ‘Lots of clothes here.’
‘Thanks, Annabel,’ Grace said dryly. ‘I’ve actually been through that one already.’
‘Oh my god, what is this?’ Annabel cried, ignoring her and holding up a long dress printed with large purple, green and orange daisies. ‘Flower power or what! Hang on, I have to try this on!’ She wriggled out of her jumper and jeans and pulled the dress over her head.
‘How do I look?’ she asked, and at Grace’s giggles she rushed out of the room and up the stairs, undoubtedly heading for the bedroom, where there was a full-length mirror. Grace heard the excited exclamations from where she sat, and winced, half-expecting Millie to wake up and counter them with a shriller reply of her own. Annabel’s footsteps came rushing down the stairs again, but there was no other sound to be heard, and Grace silently offered a prayer of thanks.
‘Hilarious!’ Annabel pronounced. ‘Right, you have to put something on from this lot – let’s see, what about this -’ She pulled out a cream blouse with outlandish ruffles, and then delved back into the box until she produced a pair of bright purple corduroy flares. ‘Come on, get them on!’
They weren’t going to get much done, but Annabel’s enthusiasm was infectious. Grace sprang up and put her wine down. Soon she was wearing her own ensemble, and Annabel had found the closest thing to seventies music she could in Grace’s collection – a new-fangled version of ‘Lady Marmalade’. They began trying to remember as many of John Travolta’s
‘I’ll get it,’ Annabel sang, and boogied her way out of the room. ‘Meredith! Claire!’ Grace heard her cry, and she felt her lightheartedness vanish.
‘You two look like you’re having fun,’ Meredith said, coming into the lounge. Annabel was behind her, swinging her hips and clicking her fingers, pulling an amused face at Grace. Claire followed at the back of the group, smiling, yet from Meredith’s expression, Grace felt like a child caught out doing something she shouldn’t. She went over and switched the music off. ‘It’s lovely to see you both. Would you like a drink?’
‘No thanks,’ Meredith replied. ‘We won’t stop if you’re busy.’
‘We came to let you both know about the ball at Freeborough Hall on Christmas Eve,’ Claire explained. ‘It’s a bit of a local event and we thought you might enjoy it.’
‘Sounds great,’ Annabel replied, going across to a countertop to replenish her wine glass, and returning with the bottle in her other hand. She poured more into Grace’s glass as she added, ‘We’d love to.’
‘I don’t think we can actually,’ Grace demurred. ‘Because of Millie…’
‘Didn’t Emma volunteer to babysit for you?’ Annabel demanded.
‘Yes, but…’
‘But nothing, Grace. You need a break now and again. Let’s ask her, and if she’s free then we’d love to come.’
‘Okay then.’ Meredith took hold of Claire’s arm and made to leave. ‘We won’t keep you. Just let us know if you want tickets – I’m on the committee so it won’t be a problem.’ She stopped in the doorway. ‘They look like Rachel’s clothes, you know,’ she said, staring hard at Grace before she left the room. Claire raised her hand affably, then followed her mother.
Annabel saw them to the door, then returned and looked perplexedly at Grace. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘there’s a woman who knows how to kill a mood. And who the hell is Rachel?’
‘Adam’s mum.’ Grace threw herself into one of the armchairs. Now she felt awful about prancing around in a dead woman’s clothes, as though she were dancing on her grave. Maybe she did need Meredith to help her sort through these things.
‘Oh, I see.’ Annabel went across to the sofa and sat down. ‘Well, don’t feel bad. I’m sure Rachel would rather we were dancing in her clothes than they lay festering and moth-bitten in a dusty old attic.’
Grace smiled at her sister and tried to rouse her spirits. She went to put her pyjamas on, and when she returned, Annabel had changed the CD and was back in her own clothes. Together they emptied another box onto the floor.
‘So tell me about Ben,’ Annabel said a little while later, as she sorted through a pile of linen.
Grace kept her eyes down as she replied. ‘I’m not sure I can. I don’t know much about him other than the fact he knows how to knock a wall down. You got more out of him today than I’ve managed to in a week.’
‘He lives alone in the house at the top of the hill?’
‘Yes, I think so.’ However, as she spoke, Grace remembered the woman she’d seen leaving early one morning. She opened her mouth to tell Annabel about the red-head, then closed it again, deciding not to. ‘He’s house-sitting, and he said he’s an architect, but other than that he keeps himself to himself.’ In fact, she thought, he was particularly good at answering her questions without actually telling her anything.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll find out all about him when he takes me out,’ Annabel said confidently.
‘Well, good luck. He’s painfully difficult to talk to.’
Annabel laughed. ‘God, I’m used to that in my line of work.’ She put the last of the linen into another charity box. ‘Can we call it a night now?’
‘Let’s just do this one,’ Grace suggested, and moved to a small box in the corner, pulling out what looked like a photo album. She opened it, and her breath caught painfully in her throat.
It was Grace and Adam’s wedding day. She had looked at their official photos many times, but she’d never seen these before. They were simple snapshots. Adam waiting outside the church. Adam with his arms around his grandparents. Then Adam and Grace at the church after they’d been married. She turned the pages – to see Adam and Grace with his grandparents; Adam and Grace with her parents; with Annabel; with her extended family; with their friends.
She had to summon all her willpower to swallow the emotion that began to rise in her throat. She searched their faces for some clue that their love story was destined to end abruptly, that they weren’t as happy as she had imagined – but all she could see was joyful smiles and laughter. That night, as they had gone to sleep in a four- poster bed, Adam had whispered his love in her ear, telling her he’d had the greatest day of his life. And when he’d first held Millie in his arms he’d promised he would do everything possible to protect his family. He’d said it with such gravitas. Too much gravitas? How would she ever know? Could she really live the rest of her life with all this doubt? But what choice had he left her?
She had forgotten about Annabel until she moved closer. Grace leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder and Annabel wrapped an arm around her. ‘I don’t get it…?’ Grace’s voice began to break. ‘Why would he just go…? He couldn’t. It isn’t right, Bel… But I don’t know… What if he -’
‘Enough,’ Annabel insisted, taking the album from her and putting it back in the box, then closing the lid. ‘You’re drunk and emotional, Grace. Here…’ She took Grace’s glass and poured them both another wine.
