‘Anyway, that’s not for us to worry about just yet,’ said Auntie Sue. ‘Who fancies a walk down to the church yard?’
It seemed a fitting way to focus our attention back on Amy and get the kids out of the house. I was ready for a change of scene and some fresh air, and it was a beautiful evening for a stroll. Hannah didn’t put up an argument when she was called down from her room, but stayed silent and stuck at the back of the group with Mum and Auntie Sue while the younger ones raced ahead.
Mike was quiet. It had been a tough few days, but he was holding it together so well. How had I got him so completely wrong? I resolved to be a better sister-in-law from now on.
The shock of Phil’s arrest was already starting to subside, like a punch to the arm, leaving only a dull ache where there had once been searing hot pain. I could picture him in his blue overalls, working in the garage, the way he had been while I’d watched from across the street, and even the thought of him made my anger start to rise.
I took a deep breath and pushed the image away. I didn’t want to think of him, to have him invade my thoughts and dreams of Amy. I wanted to keep my mind and my memories pure, leaving only my sister, untainted, preserved. My beautiful, kind, smart sister. The other half of me.
I felt her at that moment, as if she was walking with us. I even glanced around to check that she hadn’t stopped back along the path. It was fleeting, as tangible as a wisp of cloud and little more than the whisper of a songbird, but her presence was unmistakable. I smiled up at the sky and sensed Amy smile back at me.
The next morning, I set off for Alnwick. I was already at the end of the street when I remembered that the Mini I was driving belonged to Phil. The thought of him caught me off-guard. I sat there with trembling hands, gripping the wheel as a new hatred rippled through my body. I tried to shake it off. Only when a car came up behind, beeping at me for blocking the narrow lane, was I able to slowly pull onto the main road.
Diana Wheeler was ready by the time I got to her house, even though I was five minutes early. I hadn’t even knocked on the door when she appeared in a dress, boots and felt hat, looking like quite the country lady. I went to open the car door for her and she batted my hand away.
‘No need for that, Isabelle, I’m quite capable.’
She rolled her eyes as she climbed in and I suppressed a giggle.
Jake’s assistant welcomed us into his office. She had already prepared tea, the tray on the desk heavy with an old-fashioned silver set, china cups and biscuits. I’d called ahead, explaining the special proposition that Mrs Wheeler had made and forewarning Jake about her unique approach to… well, everything. He had assured me that all walks of life passed through his office, and it would take a true eccentric to surpass the quirks he’d seen. He had also promised to give her the VIP treatment he usually reserved for judges on the county circuit.
He breezed into his office, dapper in a three-piece tweed suit. As he flashed me a broad smile, a familiar knot twisted in my stomach. I cast my gaze down and willed myself to stop blushing.
‘You must be Mrs Wheeler. What a joy to finally meet you, I’ve heard so many wonderful things.’ Jake smiled warmly as he shook her hand. Mrs Wheeler didn’t even try to hide her pleasure.
Jake poured tea and his assistant brought in a plate of home-made shortbread. He seemed in no rush to get down to business.
‘Now, I know you don’t have all day, dear,’ Mrs Wheeler addressed Jake. ‘I already had my solicitor draw up a draft contract of sale, I have completed the particulars, and here are the deeds to the property which Miss Morton intends to purchase from me’ – she smiled at me – ‘if that remains her intention. I think you’ll find everything is covered, so perhaps you would be so kind as to give this a once-over and check it is legally sound?’
Jake took the paper from her and quickly read it, his lips moving silently to the words. ‘Well, Mrs Wheeler, you seem to have done my work for me.’ He looked at her over the tops of the glasses. ‘I take it you have some background in the legal profession?’
‘Heavens, that would be quite a stretch!’ Mrs Wheeler beamed. ‘Nothing beyond a passion for detective fiction.’
Jake’s face lit up, and I had to interrupt before this turned into a day-long tea-party Agatha Christie convention.
‘My main concern…’ They both looked at me, clearly having forgotten I was still there. ‘My main concern is that Mrs Wheeler has offered me the property at a very good price, well below the true value—’
Mrs Wheeler raised a hand to cut me off and turned to Jake.
‘Isabelle wants to make sure that I am in my right mind.’ She placed her hand over mine and gripped it with a surprising strength. ‘I have always been incredibly fond of Isabelle and her sister, Amy. Besides, Isabelle loves Puffin Cottage and has promised to preserve it. Unlike my daughter Sandra, who wishes to install an en suite.’ She shuddered. ‘Or worse, knock it down and start again.’
Jake shrugged at me. ‘I see no issue with this. I’m confident that Mrs Wheeler knows exactly what she is doing and is more than capable of making such a decision. If you could provide your solicitor’s details, we can arrange the payment and get these transferred.’ He waved the deeds
