by Sara Foster
The other two got to their feet and followed her. Grace tried to imagine Ben telling Annabel stories of the moors, unable to picture him conversing so freely. Then her mind switched back to Adam, wandering along this same track with her, his arm slung over her shoulders as he told her about his plans for the cottage, for their new life.
All at once, she couldn’t bear her constant reminiscing. She stopped and swung round, startling James and Annabel. ‘Where the hell is he?’ she cried. ‘What happened? I mean, he wouldn’t just disappear. And he wasn’t the kind to jump off cliffs.’
She glared at them, hands on hips, demanding that one of them answer her.
‘He might still come back,’ Annabel said uncertainly.
‘Why the hell would you say that?’ Grace shouted. She caught Millie’s eye, and as she registered Millie’s alarm she made an effort to calm herself down. ‘Don’t you see, I can’t think like that any more. Because how long am I meant to wait? There are no rules as far as I can see. What’s the proper time for this? Two years? Five? Ten? I could spend the rest of my life waiting – what kind of miserable existence is that?’
There was silence, then James said, ‘Grace, I’m not sure that staying here is good for you if it’s making you feel like this.’
Grace threw her hands in the air. ‘I KNOW that, James! But what choice do I have? I have no major assets except a damned cottage I can’t sell, and I have to sort everything out properly for Millie’s sake. Adam did care about his daughter, whatever anyone says, and I want her at least to have some things of her father’s to remember him by. And that’s as far as I can think about it without going crazy.’
Annabel came over and began to rub Grace’s arm. ‘Let’s not talk about it any more. Let’s help you do what you need to, and try to enjoy Christmas. Time to move on, eh?’
Grace saw that Annabel was upset now. Her sister’s heartfelt sympathy took the fight out of her, and she buried her face in her hands. ‘I miss him,’ she said, confused and defeated, feeling her eyes filling with tears. At which James and Annabel both wrapped their arms around her, taking her weight, even if only for a moment.
19
Millie sat on her mother’s lap, as Grace turned the pages of a book and pointed to the pictures. Her mood was low, and she wondered if it would have been better had they gone to town with James and Annabel. But she needed to stop for a while and rest, particularly as she was heading out this evening. And she also wanted to spend some proper time with Millie. Grace knew she was physically meeting her daughter’s needs, but her mind was often elsewhere, and meanwhile Millie grew and changed every day. Grace wanted to absorb as much of this sweet little toddler as she could.
As she closed the book, there was an unexpected knock on the door. She jumped, startling Millie. ‘Who’s that?’ Grace asked as Millie stared impassively at her. She set the little girl on the floor with the book and went to find out.
Opening the door, she was greeted by a Christmas tree, standing alone in front of her, its branches flailing in the wind. ‘Did you knock?’ she asked the tree, then couldn’t help chuckling to herself.
‘Yes, we did.’ Ben peeped around from behind it. ‘I thought you might like this. If you don’t want it I’ll put it up instead, but I think it would go better in here. And I heard that you’d knocked down a wall to make room for it.’
Grace beamed at him. ‘That’s a great idea. Thank you!’
She stood back as Ben lifted the tree and swung it over the threshold, pushing it towards the front room. Millie looked up in awe, and Grace went to pick her up, while Ben asked, ‘Where do you want it?’
‘There is fine.’ Grace pointed towards an bare corner, and Ben manoeuvred it into place. ‘It’s a shame I don’t have any decorations for it, though.’
Ben dusted his hands off as he studied the bare branches. ‘Are you sure you don’t?’ he asked. ‘You’ve got a lot of boxes in this place, perhaps one of them has Christmas stuff in?’
‘You’re right,’ she said as she cuddled Millie. ‘I’ll have a look in the tops of them, see if I can find anything. I don’t think they’d have been in the attic – but perhaps there might be something in the cellar…’
They walked through the hallway to the cellar door. ‘Do you want me to take a look?’ Ben offered.
‘No, it’s fine. I know where the light switch is now.’
‘Shall I take Millie for you then?’
‘You can try,’ Grace replied, not really anticipating that Millie would allow it. But to her astonishment the little girl went willingly to Ben.
‘Right, then,’ she said, ruffling her daughter’s hair. ‘I won’t be a moment.’
She made her way down the steps. At the bottom she felt along the wall for the light switch and flicked it on. The place still depressed her, with its piles of debris and stacks of boxes, but she began to hunt around.
It was so cold down here. Everything she touched was icy, and Grace felt the chill creeping up her fingers and beginning to crawl along her arms. She came across Adam’s mementoes again, and remembered that he had brought them down here unbeknown to her. Perhaps I should have a more careful look at them, she thought, growing impatient. Then she spotted tinsel poking from the top of a small box. ‘I’ve got something!’ she called as she pulled it from the shelf, finding it was lighter than she’d expected.
There was no reply from Ben as Grace went across to the stairs. She switched off the light and headed up, holding the box awkwardly in front of her and navigating by the strip of illumination coming through the doorway at the top.
Suddenly, the door slammed shut with a loud bang and she was plunged into blackness. Shock made her drop the box, and she heard it tumbling away down the stairs. Panic seized her, and she scrambled blindly up the rest of the steps until she felt the wood of the door solid against her palms. She began to hammer on it with her fists, until it swung open.
Ben and Millie stared worriedly at her frightened face.
‘Grace, are you all right?’ Ben asked, as Millie reached out for her.
She clutched the door frame as she gulped in air. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, taking Millie. ‘The door slammed and gave me a fright.’
‘Sorry.’ Ben sounded contrite. ‘I’d taken Millie outside to say hi to Bess, and I heard the bang – the draught must have blown it closed.’ He noticed her empty hands. ‘You didn’t find anything?’
‘There’s a Christmas box, but I dropped it.’ She wavered, reluctant to go down there again.
‘I’ll get it.’ Ben headed down into the darkness.
Grace stroked Millie’s hair while they waited, saying, ‘Mummy got a fright, but it’s fine now,’ as Millie clung tightly to her.
A moment later, Ben reappeared. ‘Here you go,’ he said, carrying the box through to the living room. He set it down on the floor and stood up, dusting off his hands.
He was getting ready to leave, and Grace realised how much she didn’t want to be alone.
‘Would you like to stay while we decorate the tree?’ she asked. ‘I have beer.’
Ben smiled. ‘That would be good, but I don’t want to leave Bess out in this weather for too long…’
‘Bring her in, then.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course.’
Ben went to the front door and a moment later Bess bounded inside and began sniffing at everything in sight. To Grace’s surprise, Millie struggled to be free, and once on the ground the little girl gawped at the dog in amazement, and even chuckled briefly when Bess licked her face. Grace knelt down and patted Bess, feeling herself warming to the dog. She couldn’t be too nervous of an animal that could make her daughter giggle like that.
***
When Annabel and James arrived home they found Bess curled up in front of the fireplace, looking on as Grace and Ben put the final touches to the Christmas tree. Millie sat beside them, playing with an assortment of baubles that she had commandeered.
‘Wh
at are you doing here, Ben?’ Annabel asked as she began pulling off her gloves.
‘You told me you didn’t have a Christmas tree,’ he said. ‘So I brought you one.’
Grace felt her face fall as she saw Annabel’s light up. She’d thought the tree was for Millie’s benefit. Why did she care? she asked herself, as she began to help them with the bags.
‘I think we’ve got enough food to feed the whole village,’ Annabel announced as she went across to give Bess a stroke. ‘You should have seen the town, Grace, it was like one of those olde-worlde postcards – the market was on a cobbled street, everyone was wearing Christmas hats, and all the shops were decorated with multicoloured twinkling lights and streams of tinsel.’
As she listened, Grace noticed that the two men were eyeing each other, waiting for introductions. ‘James, this is Ben.’
They shook hands. ‘Been hearing a lot about you,’ James said.
‘Oh?’ Ben looked wary.
James smiled. ‘All good, don’t worry. Annabel’s been telling me about your daytrips. Local, are you?’
‘Used to be.’ Ben went across to get his coat. ‘Not lived here for a long time now, but I know some of the old stories.’
‘Are you coming to the ball tonight?’
‘No.’ Ben shook his head. ‘Not my thing. Come on, Bess.’
The dog sprang to her feet.
‘I’ll see you all tomorrow then?’ Ben looked around the room at them before he turned to leave.
Grace went to see him out. She wished he were coming to the ball. She enjoyed his unobtrusive company, and wanted to get to know him better.
‘Thanks again for the tree,’ she called after him belatedly as he neared the gate, with Bess trotting behind him.
He didn’t turn, just waved a hand in reply.
20
Freeborough Hall loomed sturdy and imposing at the end of a long circular driveway, lights blazing from the downstairs rooms. Grace grasped the skirt of her long black satin dress so that it wouldn’t trail along the wet ground, and headed towards the ornate doorway with the others.
Annabel had borrowed a sparkly silver number that Grace hadn’t worn in years, while James had managed to hire a tuxedo in town. He fiddled with his cufflinks as they made their way up the steps. At the top they were greeted by two elderly women, in similar royal blue knee-length dresses that looked more appropriate for church than for a ball.
After parting with their tickets and entering the raffle, they headed along a wide corridor in the direction of voices and music.
‘Look at these,’ James said, as he glanced up at the large disembodied head of a stag, its beady eyes glaring malevolently down at them – one of a number of animal trophies that were mounted between various works of art.
‘I’d rather not, thanks,’ Annabel replied.
They entered the large function room to see the party in full swing. Multicoloured balloons were bunched at regular intervals around the wall, streamers trailing from them. The stage and the bar area were well lit, but the rest of the light came from small lamps on each table. People milled around, or sat in groups holding animated conversation, while a few had already taken to the floor, dancing to a swing band. Grace glanced at the double bass player, his eyes closed as he plucked fiercely at strings, and wondered what it would be like to be that absorbed in something. When was the last time she had lost herself like that? She couldn’t remember.
‘Where the hell did all these people come from?’ James murmured.
They bought drinks and found an empty table, but it didn’t take long before Annabel began cajoling them all to dance.
‘All right then,’ James muttered crossly as Annabel pulled him from his seat. ‘Come on, Grace, you too.’
But Grace shook her head as they got up and moved to the dance floor, and after a few attempts at waving her over to join them, James gave up. Annabel began sashaying around with her arms in the air, while James did his best impression of a swing king, bending double and clicking his fingers to each side of his knees, nodding his head enthusiastically. Grace was laughing at them when she heard someone saying her name, and felt a hand on her shoulder. She swung around to see Claire.
‘Hi Grace.’ Claire was smiling. ‘My family are over there – come and say hello.’
Grace got up and followed Claire across the room to a large round table. ‘Everyone,’ Claire announced, ‘this is Grace.’
Conversation drifted away as all eyes fell on her. On the far side, a burly, shaven-headed man had his hand placed proprietorially on the thigh of the woman next to him. The woman was observing the dance floor, and Grace saw that she had a pretty elfin face and dark hair piled high on top of her head. Nearest to Grace, a woman with long auburn hair had turned to stare, her face sombre. Last of all, Grace spotted Meredith in a dim corner close to the wall, one elbow on the table, the heel of her palm elegantly propping up her chin as she coolly regarded the dance floor.
‘These are my younger sisters, Liza and Jenny,’ Claire said, gesturing to the women as she spoke. ‘And over there is Liza’s husband Dan. Everyone, this is Grace.’
‘Hello Grace,’ Meredith said from her shadowy corner, her mouth barely moving. ‘Claire, can I talk to you for a moment?’
Claire moved across to her mother, leaving Grace on her own. As she looked around, her gaze fell on Jenny, whose long red hair was familiar. Then she realised: this was the person she had seen leaving Ben’s house when she’d been out walking. Perhaps Ben was the ‘someone’ Claire had referred to when she’d said Jenny was in a new relationship. She realised too late that she was staring, and Jenny was regarding her with a frown. Grace averted her eyes.
Dan got up and held out a hand. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he said without smiling as they shook. ‘So you’re living in Roseby? Claire said you’re from London – the change of scene must have taken a bit of getting used to?’
‘Yes, it has.’ She shook his hand, expecting more conversation, but he sat down and began rolling a cigarette. Grace remembered Emma telling her about him, and tried to picture him as a policeman. His manner was both abrupt and slightly menacing, and she was grateful that it was Niall and not this man who’d been sent to help her on the night Adam disappeared.
‘How are you getting on at the cottage?’ Liza asked. ‘Mum says you’re busy sorting through everything?’
Grace wondered if they knew about Meredith’s interest in the place. ‘Yes, but I’m enjoying the break for Christmas.’
Before Liza could say any more, Jenny leaned across the table and said something to Dan. He looked down at the tablecloth and let out a short bark of laughter, and Grace saw Jenny’s eyes flicker to her, then away. Grace began to feel uneasy, but was saved as the music stopped and it was announced that the raffle was about to be drawn.
‘Good to meet you all,’ she said, glancing around to find Meredith’s eyes fixed on her. Claire began to move towards her again, but Grace pretended she hadn’t seen, and hurried away.
Annabel and James were already back at their table. ‘Where did you go?’ Annabel asked accusingly. ‘You left my purse on the chair, it could have been stolen.’
‘I’m not here to babysit your handbag,’ Grace retorted. ‘Look after it yourself.’
‘All right, calm down.’ Annabel glared at her.
Their attention shifted towards the stage as the raffle was drawn. Grace glanced at her tickets, then screwed them up. Then the lights were dimmed again, the music resumed, and everyone went back to their conversations. Trying her best to absorb the carefree atmosphere, for a while Grace chattered inconsequentially to Annabel and James over another glass of wine, but she felt as though she were alone in an invisible bubble. ‘Time for another dance,’ Annabel announced a little while later, and James agreed, saying, ‘This time you’re coming too, Grace,’ but dancing was a step too far for her tonight, in front of all these people, particularly when she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.
She decided she would go for a walk rather than sitting by herself next to the packed dance floor. She thought she might find a moment’s solitude in the ladies’ bathroom, but when she arrived there was a queue of women gossiping animatedly while they waited for a cubicle. So she headed back beneath the leering parade of hunting trophies, towards the main doors of the building. The old women who had welcomed them were no longer there, and she leaned against the cool stone wall, breathing in the frigid air, feeling the chill of the night seeping through her skin and into her bones.
‘Grace?’ a female voice said.
Grace whirled around. One of Meredith’s daughters was standing behind her, contemplating Grace nervously.
‘Liza, isn’t it?’ Grace queried.
‘Yes,’ the woman replied, a small jewel in her brown hair glinting in the soft light. ‘I need to talk to you. Alone. It’s about Adam.’
21
As Grace stared at Liza, she noticed that Liza’s stomach protruded in front of her like a perfectly rounded egg. Grace’s whole body had stiffened upon hearing Adam’s name, but before she could speak, Liza said, ‘This way,’ and headed down the steps. At the bottom she glanced back and beckoned Grace to come with her.
Grace followed in a daze, as Liza made for two soaring oak trees whose trunks stood set apart but whose branch tips bent to join each other in a delicate embrace. There wasn’t much light to navigate by, but between what little moonlight had managed to penetrate the clouds, and the glow from the hall, Grace could make out a small lake in front of her. Liza had turned right and disappeared, and as Grace came through the trees she saw there was an ornamental gazebo a little further along. Creeping plants had spun a web of stems over the wrought-iron railings, and there were a few steps leading into it.
Liza waited inside, looking out across the lake. As soon as Grace joined her she said, ‘I’m sorry to bring you out here like this, but I didn’t know how else to speak to you on your own. And I need to tell you something…’ She searched Grace’s face for reassurance.