Claire considered that. ‘You’re probably right. At the time I thought we were great friends, but when he left for university I don’t think I ever heard from him again. He didn’t even come back for a visit – did he, Mum?’
Meredith didn’t reply, but Claire’s comments were making Grace think back. When she’d first known Adam he had kept in touch with his grandparents by phone, but he’d never seemed keen to make the journey up from London to see them. ‘It’s a hell of a way,’ he’d told her, ‘and there’s nothing to do up there. They’re lovely people but we’re not all that close – I only saw them now and again before Mum died, and I didn’t stay with them for long before I went off to university.’ But she recalled how deeply touched he had been when his grandparents made the long trip south to see him get married. So after their wedding, he’d taken Grace to visit. There hadn’t been room to stay in the small cottage, so they’d booked bed and breakfast at a local farm. She remembered how much he’d enjoyed showing her around. It must have been then that his love for the area had been rekindled.
While caught up in her distraction, she had missed the change of topic. She began to listen again as Meredith said, ‘Emma and Carl … they live next door to Grace. Didn’t think they’d last when they first came – but they appear to have settled in. Their son prowls around the area, doesn’t say a word to anyone. Jack lives next door to them …’
‘Uncle Jack,’ Claire cut in.
‘My late husband’s older brother,’ Meredith explained. ‘Ted and Jack were originally from Skeldale, but Ted took over the farm from my dad after we were married, and Jack moved here a few years later to help out. So he’s lived here for over thirty years. Never married. Keeps himself to himself now. You’ll be lucky if you catch sight of him.’
‘And the house at the top?’ Annabel asked.
‘Another relative,’ Claire chuckled. ‘It’s so incestuous here.’
Meredith cast her a withering glance. ‘Hardly. They’re a couple about your age, perhaps a bit older. Distant cousins in the family, yes, but a few times removed. When they heard the house was vacant they snapped it up. It seems to suit them. They have also taken on one of Pippa’s siblings. Our dog Rosie had pups a few years ago, so we kept Pippa, and Holly and Bess went up the road. Rosie died last year, so now we’ve only got Pippa.’
‘That’s why I keep seeing black dogs everywhere!’ Grace said. ‘I was worried it was some kind of omen. I even dreamed about one the other night – with bared teeth and slavering gums – horrible.’
‘Well now, that could have been a barghest,’ Claire said. ‘There’s a legend of a black dog around here. Some say it’s Dracula’s dog – though I think it was actually Dracula himself who turned into the black beast that jumped off a ship in Whitby and raced away into the night.’
‘Whitby is only ten miles or so over the moors,’ Meredith added.
‘However,’ Claire continued, warming to her subject, ‘others will tell you that the barghest appears to people just before the death of a local.’ On seeing Grace’s horrified face, she laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Grace – I’ve lived here on and off for the best part of thirty-two years and I’ve never seen one shred of evidence to support the stories. They’re folk tales. You had a nightmare, that’s all.’
Grace looked at Meredith for confirmation, but Meredith only gave her a stiff smile. ‘The moors are full of ghostly apparitions, Grace. Surely Adam told you that? We even have one of our own.’ She glanced from Grace to Annabel. ‘In here.’ She waved her hand around the room.
‘His name is Tiny Tim,’ Claire added, nodding to show her mother was telling the truth.
‘Are you joking?’ Annabel was gaping at them like they’d announced that the house was a spaceship and lift-off was imminent.
‘No, not at all.’ Meredith’s face was solemn. ‘Though Tiny Tim is the girls’ nickname for him. He’s a little child. He’s only been spotted a few times, but he gets up to mischief now and again, banging things around during the night. We’ve learned to live with it, and it doesn’t happen all that often – hardly ever since the kids grew up.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ Annabel’s eyes were ablaze with curiosity. ‘Who’s seen him?’
‘My eldest, Veronica, once said she’d seen him watching her from the end of the bed. Our youngest, Jenny, used to talk about playing with Timmy upstairs, when we moved her into Liza’s old bedroom. Neither girl was scared. He’s pretty harmless. I think he only appears to children – as far as I know, no grown-ups have ever seen him, we just hear him now and again.’
‘I can’t tell if you’re winding me up,’ Annabel said after a beat.
Meredith looked slightly offended. ‘I can assure you we’re not. I’ve researched it. An eight-year-old boy called Timothy was killed on the road near here, back in the twenties. We’re pretty sure he’s the one who lives with us.’