‘Perhaps it’s because I know you a lot better than most,’ James replied.
Millie broke the charged silence that followed by dropping her cup on the floor, and they both laughed. ‘I’ll get it,’ James said. And when he bobbed his head up above the table again, things were back to normal.
‘Shall I make you scrambled eggs for breakfast?’ Grace asked as she flicked the kettle on.
‘That would be great, I’ll help you in a sec.’ He glanced once more at the papers in front of him. ‘I hope you don’t mind – these were lying here, so I was taking a look at your plans.’
‘Of course I don’t mind.’ Grace sat down opposite him. ‘So, what do you think?’
‘It’s a really good idea. But it could be a lot of work. Are you all right out here, really? Because this might take quite a while.’
‘I’ll be okay. Besides, I’ve got Ben helping me out, so hopefully that will speed things up.’
‘Ah, yes. Ben.’ James put the papers down. ‘Tell me about Annabel’s hottie – has she seduced him yet?’
Grace ignored the unease she felt at the question. ‘I doubt it. He’s very reserved. He’s been a godsend to me, though, as I was worried it would take weeks for me to find someone to work on the cottage. Although Annabel has been monopolising him a bit of late, for her “story”.’ Grace made speech marks in the air and James chuckled. ‘They’ve been roving all over the moors with him telling her spooky tales. But that’s all, I think.’
‘How romantic,’ James commented dryly. ‘Trust Annabel.’
‘Trust Annabel what?’ said the woman herself, appearing at the door.
‘I was admiring your dedication to getting a good story,’ James laughed, then spluttered on his coffee as Annabel clipped his head with her hand as she went past. ‘Ow.’
‘You deserved it.’
‘So, what’s the plan for today then?’ James asked. ‘There appear to be all sorts of exciting possibilities around here.’ He got up and gestured out at the white sky and the bare expanse of the moors, now pockmarked with last night’s melting snow.
‘You’re as bad as Annabel!’ Grace went across to the worktop and poured her sister a drink. ‘Tell you what, let’s go for a walk while the weather holds, see if we can get you two city slickers to actually enjoy a bit of fresh air.’
‘Whatever,’ Annabel murmured, leafing through a magazine as she accepted the mug Grace handed to her.
James winked at Grace. ‘Good plan.’ She smiled back at him, but faltered for a moment at the expression in his eyes before he looked away.
As Grace strapped Millie into her pushchair, she listened to Annabel and James on the doorstep, both complaining about being outside in the bitter cold.
‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Annabel asked doubtfully, rubbing her arms with her gloved hands.
‘It’s only a walk, Annabel, it won’t kill you,’ Grace retorted, surprising herself. In London, she had regularly grumbled about the distances between bus, tube and destination, but now she found herself looking forward to these long countryside rambles. ‘Come on.’ She pushed Millie’s pushchair towards the gate, the others falling in step behind her.
To reach the moorland path, they headed up the steep road past the other cottages. ‘Who lives in these places?’ James asked, breaking the hush of the frosty morning.
Grace looked across at the row of cottages as she replied. ‘Emma and Carl are next door to me. They’re lovely. Apparently an old man called Feathery Jack lives in that one –’ she pointed to the cottage with smoke rising from the chimney, ‘but he’s reclusive by all accounts. I’ve never seen him. And Ben lives in the house at the top.’ She motioned towards the redbrick dwelling standing incongruously beside its stone neighbours.
‘Feathery Jack?’ Annabel repeated. ‘What’s that about?’
‘He keeps birds, apparently – owls.’
‘That’s actually pretty cool,’ James said.
Annabel raised an eyebrow at him.
They continued walking in silence, following the tarmacked road to the summit, leaving the houses behind. At the top, they turned down a path marked only by flattened grass and occasional groups of uneven stones. They made their way along until they reached another peak, and as they crested the hill the moors spread out before them.
‘There’s not a lot of green about, is there,’ James said.