‘This is Annabel,’ Grace said, as they also shook hands.
Meredith glanced at the pushchair. ‘And this must be Millie.’ She knelt down to look under the shade. ‘Hello, little miss.’ Then she straightened again. ‘Well, come on in.’
They were shown along a hallway, past a wide staircase and a few closed doors, before they finally walked into a vast, high-ceilinged room. ‘Wow,’ Annabel breathed, echoing Grace’s reaction.
In the centre, a huge square table was set for lunch, silver and glassware shining atop a pristine cream tablecloth. A three-piece burgundy leather suite was arranged in one corner, and the furniture was all a matching, gleaming mahogany. But what had really caught their attention was the vast picture window that ran from ceiling to floor on one side, framing a panoramic vista. Before them lay an endless tract of moorland, the unbroken stretch of earth drawing the eye further and further away in search of focus. There was little to find except for the occasional thicket, or the odd solitary tree standing sentinel. Without buildings to obscure it, the sky made up the larger part of the picture, and today it was a cloud-spattered backdrop of washed-out blue.
‘We had the window put in over a decade ago, when we did some major work on the house.’ Meredith had followed their captivated stares. ‘When the heather is out in the autumn, the whole landscape turns a royal purple – it’s quite a sight. Well, come and have a seat at the table. I’m afraid I don’t have a high chair …’
‘Oh, no problem.’ Grace looked over at Millie. ‘She’ll be asleep for a while, I think.’ She took in the smell of roasting meat, and her mouth began to water. ‘Can we do anything to help?’
Annabel set a bottle of red wine in the middle of the table. ‘We brought this. Would you like me to pour?’ She set about opening the bottle, while Grace marvelled at how easily Annabel made herself at home wherever she was.
Meredith was heading out of the room. ‘Thank you. I’ll just go and check on lunch.’
While they waited, Grace guided the pushchair into a corner and took a seat at the table. It was set for four, glinting silver cutlery laid out in perfect symmetry, next to side dishes that featured a delicate motif of apples and oranges. Annabel took Grace’s glass and poured her a generous amount of red wine, as Meredith returned from the kitchen bearing a tray of Yorkshire puddings the size of dinner plates.
‘In Yorkshire we always serve the puddings first.’ She used a pair of tongs to put a pudding on each of their plates. ‘Claire should be down in a minute.’
‘She said she was living here at the moment?’ Grace asked, as she accepted the large jug of steaming gravy Meredith held out.
‘Yes,’ Meredith replied as she sat down. ‘She’s been on her gap year for as long as I can remember. It seems holidaying is her occupation, and work is what she does to fill the time in between.’
‘It’s not holidaying, Mum,’ Claire said merrily as she entered the room. ‘It’s seeing the world. And I work while I’m away too, you know.’ She came and took her place at the table. ‘Hi Grace,’ she said, without waiting for her mother’s response. ‘And you must be Grace’s sister. Annabel, is it?’
Grace tucked into her pudding as she listened to the introductions. ‘These are delicious, Meredith.’
‘Mum’s been making them since time began.’ Claire looked fondly at her mother. ‘She’s got it down to a fine art. She may not sound like a Yorkshirewoman, but she definitely cooks like one.’
Meredith gave her daughter a wry glance, then turned to Grace and Annabel. ‘My father’s side is Yorkshire through and through, but the war changed things here. He went down to London during his conscription, and brought my mother back with him. She loved the countryside, but wasn’t so keen on the accent. She worked hard to make sure I spoke “the Queen’s English”, as she used to say. She did the same to all the children she taught, caused a few rifts with the locals around here.’
‘My father built the schoolroom,’ Claire explained. ‘The long building on the left as you come towards the house. There’s quite a history to this place.’
‘Did you go to the school here when you were a child?’ Annabel asked Meredith.
‘Yes, when I was small. When I got older I went to Ockton.’
‘And what was it like, having the school on your doorstep?’
‘Not much fun, actually. My mother didn’t want anyone to think she was favouring me, so she was horribly strict – she came down on me much harder than the other children. She wasn’t averse to using a cane.’