‘Well, that book is an unusual one,’ Meredith said. ‘But, you know, if you need any help I’d be happy to give you a hand … Bill worked for my husband Ted for a number of years, so I knew him and Connie quite well.’
Grace pictured the remaining boxes stacked waiting for her. Going through them was a wearisome task, but she wasn’t sure she wanted someone else involved. She needed to make any discoveries in private. Moreover, there was an aloofness in Meredith’s manner, despite her pleasantries, which Grace found unnerving. But she didn’t want to be rude either. ‘Perhaps you could look at the things I put aside,’ she suggested. ‘In case there’s anything you know more about, or think is worth keeping.’
‘Of course,’ Meredith agreed. ‘But I can help you more than that. I’ll go through everything with you. It must be so much work on your own with a small child – I can’t imagine how you’ll get through it otherwise.’
Her persistence made Grace uncomfortable, but she wasn’t sure how to decline. ‘Thanks, but I’m fine for now. Perhaps in the New Year.’
Meredith said nothing, but looked disgruntled as she picked up her knife and fork. They ate in silence for a little while.
‘Do you like it here, Grace?’
The question was asked off-handedly, but Grace felt the air around them thicken with the anticipation of her reply. Not wanting to offend, or lie, she hesitated before saying, ‘I can’t tell yet, to be honest. I’m sure I would like it a lot more if the circumstances were different.’
Meredith nodded as she thought. ‘You know, I often wonder whether this place – the villages, the moors – has a certain mystical quality that draws people back – or one which won’t let them go. Perhaps I feel like that because it’s where my family are from, where we belong. But people often return here. And I don’t know why – since we’re obviously well away from most of civilisation. You and Adam, for instance …’ She looked at Grace carefully. ‘Why did you decide to come here?’
Grace began to cut up more of her dinner to give to Millie, who had wolfed down her first portion and was banging her plate on the table. ‘Adam thought it would be good for us to get out of the rat race for a while – try something different. We both thought so,’ she amended.
‘Well, it’s certainly different to London,’ Meredith said. ‘I often think about what will happen to the village when my generation dies out. Will people stick it out here, ignoring the lure of the big cities, or will it be abandoned? I have a feeling it will become an out-of-the-way holiday destination, and these old houses steeped in history will be nothing more than the temporary homes of travellers.’
Grace bit her lip. It was probably best not to mention that she was considering letting out Hawthorn Cottage as a holiday home.
‘How long was the school open here?’ she asked, hoping to move to a more comfortable topic.
‘It closed down in the late sixties when there were no longer enough children to sustain it. My brood had to get a bus over the hill to Ockton. Did Adam not tell you anything of the history of the village?’
Grace shook her head. I imagined he’d have plenty of time to show me around, she added to herself. ‘I’m not sure how much he knew,’ she said. ‘I don’t think he ever came here until after his mother had died.’
Meredith seemed sombre. ‘Rachel was only eighteen when she left – there were five years between us, but we were good friends,’ she said. ‘Since we were the only young girls in the village, we leaned on each other. I was shocked when she disappeared overnight, without even saying goodbye – although we hadn’t seen as much of each other since I’d got married and had Veronica. Then, all those years later, Adam was back here with his grandparents. I hadn’t even known that Rachel had a child. But, as I said, if you’ve a connection to this place it draws you back in, one way or another. Of course, Adam wouldn’t have lived here that summer if Rachel hadn’t died.’ She paused, then shook her head as though clearing unpleasant memories. ‘Adam was a rather intense young man, I remember that … but I put it down to grieving rather than character. He was terribly young to be without his mother.’ Meredith looked intently towards the picture window as she spoke, as though something was visible to her in the darkness.
Grace felt her curiosity growing. ‘Did you know Adam’s father?’ Adam hadn’t talked about him much – the topic was obviously painful so she had never pressed it.