Grace began picking them up, and Ben joined in. As they got to their feet, Grace handed over those she’d collected, and caught Ben’s eye. They were standing far too close, and he was looking at her so directly that a shiver ran through her.
‘Do you have any more questions before we get started?’ His voice was a deep susurrant burr.
Grace stepped back. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Then I’ll be over tomorrow.’ He moved past her, heading for the door.
Grace saw him out and went back to Millie. As they began to play together, she found that, now he’d gone, numerous questions were running through her mind, but few were to do with the cottage.
At five o’clock on Wednesday, Grace strapped Millie into her car seat, and drove the short distance to Meredith’s house. She felt a little cowardly for not walking, but it was already pitch black outside, and the wind was up. Part of her wished she hadn’t agreed to this meal, but in some ways it was perfect timing. The kitchen was unusable – if she had stayed in it would have been toast or sandwiches for tea.
The downstairs living area of Hawthorn Cottage was now a shambles. Amazing, Grace thought, that things which took so long to construct were so easily returned to chaos. She had spent the previous night clearing out the lounge and kitchen, and it hadn’t taken Ben long to move the furniture down to the cellar when he’d arrived first thing. She had left him to it, and taken Millie on a drive around the moors, thankful for the current mild weather. They had found a small teashop in a sleepy village where the lady owner was very taken by Millie, carrying her around and showing her an assortment of trinkets and knitted teddy bears.
‘You on your holidays?’ she’d asked Grace while putting her tea and scone on the checkered tablecloth.
‘Something like that,’ Grace replied.
‘You should come back and see the moors in’t’ spring,’ the woman said. ‘They’ve hidden their secrets away now, till the snow’s passed and the thaw comes.’
The whole afternoon had been so genteel that Grace felt less troubled as she made her way to Meredith’s front door. Millie was wide awake, which was making Grace a little nervous, remembering Meredith’s attitude towards Millie on Sunday. Grace had brought a bag of toys with them, hoping they would be enough to keep her daughter amused for a while.
When she reached the door, it swung open before she even had the chance to knock. ‘Come in,’ Meredith said, ushering them both out of the cold. They could hear Pippa barking in another part of the house.
Grace followed Meredith through to the dining room. The curtains to the picture window were open, but night had fallen and there was nothing to see beyond them this time, not even a light on the horizon or a star in the sky.
‘Thank you so much for inviting us again.’ As Grace looked around, she noticed that the table was less extravagantly furnished this evening, with only two place settings. ‘Is Claire here?’ she asked, her spirits waning at the thought of trying to make conversation with Meredith on her own.
‘No, Claire’s gone to collect Jenny and bring her home for Christmas,’ Meredith replied. ‘All my girls will be here this year – although Veronica, my eldest, is staying in Ockton. This place is big, but it’s not large enough for her brood and everybody else as well.’
As Grace set Millie down on the floor, Meredith asked, ‘So what are you doing for Christmas?’
‘My sister will be here,’ Grace replied while giving Millie the bag of toys.
‘That’s good. Christmas is a hard time to be alone. Well, I’ll go and dish up – back in a moment.’
Grace began to play with Millie, showing her the toys, though it was obvious that Millie wanted to crawl away and begin investigating this interesting new space. Grace glanced around the softly lit room, with its thick chintz curtains and polished furniture. Everything looked precisely positioned, as though she had found herself on a stage set rather than in someone’s home. She wondered if this room was singled out and kept pristine for entertaining, or whether the whole house was like this. Judging by how well Meredith had looked after Grace’s cottage, it was probably the latter, she thought.
She heard footsteps getting louder, and then Meredith reentered the room, carrying two plates piled high with food. ‘Come and sit down,’ she said. ‘I’ve managed to borrow a high chair, so you can bring Millie over. Will she eat some roast chicken?’
‘It might be messy,’ Grace warned, picking Millie up, wondering if Meredith had found the high chair especially for them, and thinking what a considerate gesture it was if so.
Meredith motioned to the polished wooden floor. ‘It’s easy enough to wipe.’
They took their places, and Meredith chopped up a few pieces of chicken and some vegetables, then presented them to Millie on a child’s plastic plate with a plastic knife and fork. Millie ignored the cutlery, and picked the meat up with her fingers, looking thoughtful as she tested it with her teeth.