Last night it had been too tempting to stay up and read them all but Billie satisfied herself with one, tucking the pile into her overnight bag to take with her. She would get to the bottom of this mystery if it was the last thing she did.
She hadn’t seen her mother since her last outburst on Friday night. What was her hang-up with Foxborough Hall? And why wouldn’t Father talk about it? Thank goodness she had Alex and Hamish for support.
The trip would also give her time to analyse what was becoming an almost normal state of mind for her. Losing perspective of time and place had scared her in the beginning after Stephen died, leaving her in difficult positions. Not a wonder really that her boss let her go. She’d hoped they would stop when she moved back home but it didn’t appear to be the case. Now it seemed to be happening more often, that was if she counted the frequent lapses in concentration that had her staring off into the distance. The idea of asking Hamish for help crossed her mind not long ago and she’d given it serious consideration, but she was more than a little bit worried about what he would suggest. Would he tell Father? The possibility scared her. Who in their right mind wanted to be going through this kind of stuff anyway?
After he’d witnessed her episode at the Easter Show she’d decided it wasn’t such a good idea. Alex was used to it, no doubt put it down to her sketchy state of mind since his father’s death and he’d leave it at that. And the thought of opening herself up to a Hamish wasn’t that appealing. What if he wanted to put her hospital until they sorted her out?
If anyone found out, all hell could break loose and she didn’t need to lose her job over this. Better to keep it to herself and hope things tapered off. Billie knew it was a hangover from losing Stephen and her inability to deal with it. What else could it possibly be?
After his kindness when she’d been robbed, her opinion of him had changed. He seemed more approachable now, more human. And it had nothing to do with their trip to his mother’s house the following day where he excited Alex with a litter of puppies and the offer of choosing one for himself. The last thing she wanted was a dog around the house when she was so mixed up.
Billie turned off at Newcastle and headed east toward Singleton. Passing through Maitland, she decided on a stop for a spearmint milkshake and pulled into a café. She chose a table and chair out in the sun and stretched her legs, watching the passers-by with keen interest. When she had finished her shot of energy and the vanilla slice too irresistible to pass up, she took a wander to the local graveyard and read a few headstones to give her legs a break then resumed her journey.
Through Greta and Lochinvar, past the nunnery and stunning old church buildings, she drove. As she came closer to Singleton, she pulled over and checked her map. The estate should be up ahead. Not far now. Her skin prickled with anticipation at seeing her next assignment. The research she’d done on the property had intrigued her. A well-to-do daughter marrying a celebrated war hero, only to die young under cloudy circumstances leaving two daughters to continue without her. One died tragically and one vanished during the war, presumed dead. Her inner investigator bounced with joy at having a story to get her teeth into.
She pulled back onto the road and kept an eye out for the estate. When it came into view she felt the surge of excitement. Billie pulled over again and got out of the car. She leaned with her hands on the wire fence and stood staring up at the house. How majestic and breathtaking. Cream stone rose three levels and appeared to soar up to the low-hanging clouds. A turret on one side rose above the red roof, topped off by a tattered flag flapping forlornly in the breeze.
What happened after the daughters were both lost? How had the father felt when he was left to fend alone with only servants for help? She could sympathise with the poor man to some extent and hoped to bring a personal touch to the story, the sadness and loss, the grief she knew so much about. She couldn’t wait to get inside and look around, try to find out what happened.
The familiar itch tickled the back of her neck and an urge she hadn’t felt for months pulsed through her veins. She was so glad Father and Hamish had insisted she come and do this story. Her life might just come back on track. What a shame she didn’t have time now to go and see the house, but she’d get lost in exploring and never make it to her other appointments and she had two elderly people waiting on her visit. The information they could give her would be invaluable for the story.
Billie checked her watch, pushed it back up her arm. One of these days she’d get it into the jeweller and have the strap made smaller. As much as she wanted to set foot in the house, it would have to wait until tomorrow. She climbed back into her car and gave a final glance at the house as she pulled back onto the road toward Singleton. As she came into the town she slowed, searching for the right street, keen to get her first interview under
