‘Yes please!’ Annabel looked delighted.
As soon as he’d gone, Annabel came close to Grace and said in an undertone, ‘You didn’t tell me he was so good-looking. Finally, this place has something to recommend it. I might have to buy myself some shiny new wellies and come and visit more often.’
Grace rolled her eyes at her sister’s back as she followed her inside. Annabel claimed she didn’t have time for romance while she focused on her career, but she had no qualms where flirting was concerned. Her friend James regularly joked that it was Annabel’s favourite sport. At the thought of James, Grace felt guilty. She hadn’t even let him know that she was back in Yorkshire. She knew she was putting it off, in case he questioned what she was doing there. The problem was, he knew her too well.
While in the hallway, she heard Millie beginning to stir. She went to collect her daughter, finding her yawning and needing her nappy changed. By the time they got back downstairs, Annabel was curled up on the sheet-covered sofa, steaming mug cradled in her hands, observing Ben as he worked by the fireplace.
‘I was just asking Ben about his Christmas plans,’ Annabel said as she spied Grace. ‘And he hasn’t got any, as it turns out. So I’ve invited him to join us – the more the merrier, right?’
As Ben faced them, Grace saw that his cheeks were slightly flushed. ‘Look,’ he began, ‘I hadn’t actually –’
‘Ben, it’s fine,’ Annabel chided, ‘it’s the least Grace can do when you’ve spent all week working on the cottage. Come on, I promise us Taylor girls know how to have a good time – don’t we, Grace?’
‘Of course,’ Grace agreed. ‘Annabel’s right, you’re very welcome to join us.’
‘In fact we’ll be completely offended if you don’t,’ Annabel added cheerfully.
Ben looked unsure, but said, ‘In that case, thanks,’ and moved back to the fireplace, continuing to take measurements. Millie struggled out of Grace’s arms and crawled over to Ben, putting her hands on his knee and pulling herself up to inspect what he was doing. Ben turned to her and smiled, and she gave a shy smile back.
Grace watched them, wondering what it was about Ben that Millie found so intriguing.
‘I thought that thing was supposed to have wound down by now?’ Annabel was looking beyond the living-room doorway towards the grandfather clock.
Grace frowned. ‘Actually, you’re right, it should have. I thought it had stopped last weekend, but it started again, and I think it’s been going ever since.’
‘Did you want to let it wind down?’ Ben sounded apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. It stopped on Wednesday while I was here, so I wound it up again for you.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Grace was just relieved that there was a rational, ordinary explanation. What has got in to you? she scolded herself. You didn’t believe in ghosts before, there’s no reason to start now.
Then her focus shifted to her sister, as Annabel cried, ‘Guess what, Grace, I’ve got some great news.’ She nearly spilled her tea as she bounced up and down on the sofa. ‘I pitched a piece about living with ghosts to my editor, and she loved it! So I’ll be able to do some research while I’m here for Christmas!’
‘Oh, right.’ Grace was unable to match her sister’s vivacity. ‘When did you decide to do that?’
‘On the drive back from here. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Meredith and Claire said. I can’t believe they’re so glib about living with a ghost! If there really is a ghost in the house, of course. Perhaps they’re fibbing and that’s why they don’t care. But, whatever, readers will lap it up, it will make a great story. I’m going to try to persuade them to talk to me, and see what else I can uncover of the local spirit population. I can see the piece now, all moody black and white photographs. I haven’t quite got the angle yet, but it’ll come.’
Grace had kept her eye on Ben and Millie as Annabel talked. He was holding a tape measure along one side of the mantelpiece, but he wasn’t moving, and she was sure he was listening to them.
Annabel hadn’t noticed. ‘I’m actually quite excited about it. Who would have believed that a bit of frosty old countryside would fire up my imagination!’
‘Yes, it’s great,’ Grace agreed, trying to be supportive. Then a thought came to her. She went across to the boxes, rummaged around and returned with a book.
‘Adam’s grandmother wrote this.’ She passed it over. ‘I’ve been meaning to rescue it from my charity pile – it should help you with the piece.’
‘Wow, Ghosts of the Moors. This is perfect,’ Annabel said as she began flicking through it.