Beneath the Shadows (23 page)

Grace sat staring at the notes in front of her, then reached out and topped up her wine glass without even thinking about it.

These letters were obviously written by a girl who was hopelessly in love. The one that she had signed bothered Grace the most. ‘…
whatever our parents say …'
implied that Adam had reciprocated, didn't it? She remembered Claire saying that Jenny had just turned thirty – so there were only a couple of years between her and Adam. She would have been sweet sixteen when Adam had moved into the village.

If the two of them had had a secret romance, and their parents had conspired to separate them, Meredith might not be best pleased to see Adam back. But that was fourteen years ago. Surely this couldn't have any bearing on Adam's disappearance, could it?

Moreover, surely Adam wouldn't have brought Grace and Millie to live here if he had any notion that there was a big problem lurking in these backwaters. No, whatever the notes indicated, it had to be firmly in the past as far as Adam was concerned. After all, Grace had never heard him talk about the Blakeneys before. He obviously hadn't kept in touch with any of the girls after he moved away. They couldn't have been that important to him in the long run.

Unless … What if Adam had been searching for Jenny in the library, and Jonny was a cover story he'd given to Liza? Perhaps he had really wanted to find Jenny again? But then why not ask Liza where Jenny was? Maybe Liza had left that part out? Perhaps they were all in it together, determined to throw Grace off the scent?

Off the scent of what, though? Grace felt increasingly confused. She was going around in circles, with no idea whether she was getting any closer to the truth. Frustrated, she took another slug of wine.

Where did this new information leave her search for Adam's father? She'd never thought about it before, but she only really had Liza's word that Jonny was relevant anyway. She tried to think back. She could still picture Liza's face on the steps of Freeborough Hall. She had seemed so earnest. Why would she lie?

She would lie if Jenny asked her to. She would lie if Adam's disappearance involved her sister. Perhaps they all would. Had Grace experienced any genuine friendliness or hospitality from them since she'd been here, or was it all an elaborate subterfuge to get her to leave? Perhaps Ben was involved too – passing information along from inside
Hawthorn Cottage, keeping them posted on what she was up to.

As her theories grew more and more elaborate, Grace felt as though she was losing her grip on reality. She looked at her half-full glass and went across and poured it down the sink. Then she took herself upstairs to bed.

As her foot touched the top step, the clock began to chime three.

And then it stopped.

She couldn't even summon the energy to be frightened. In fact, she felt fury coursing through her instead – at everything and everyone who had led her to this point.

She flung open her bedroom door, and halted. Finally, fear got sharp teeth into her, and instantly clamped down.

On her pillow was
Ghosts of the Moors
. Connie's book. Grace knew, without a doubt, that she had packed it ready to leave, but now it lay spread open, face down, as though she had paused in reading it.

She picked it up. It was open at a page she recognised.

 

The black barghest.

A fearsome hound with razor-sharp teeth and claws. Seen shortly before the death of a local.

 

She flung it across the room. Then she took her duvet, went through and lay down on the floor next to Millie's cot, trembling, her mind tumbling over and over, not daring to close her eyes even though she wanted to, her ears straining for any hint of movement close by.

As light began to spread over the moors, Grace crept around the cottage, hurriedly packing suitcases, putting items in the last of the boxes they would take with them, and stacking the ones for the charity sale together.

Today, they were leaving.

Much of the organising was done, but the kitchen was still full of odds and ends. She walked past the now ticking grandfather clock and headed into the lounge. There, she paused, looking at the hole where the kitchen wall had been. The ceiling was a mess too, and the floor needed finishing. She would ask Ben to sort it out after she'd gone. The rest of the renovations could be done by somebody else. She didn't care any more.

She pictured herself storming up to the schoolhouse, getting everyone out of bed and demanding answers. Someone had put that book on her pillow last night, she was sure of
it. Claire had been the last person in the cottage with her, but she couldn't remember Claire having the opportunity to go upstairs without Grace noticing. Besides, if Meredith had a copy of the key to the cottage, any of them could have done it.

Unless the cottage had its own ghost? Stopping the clock and moving things around, just like Timmy. Perhaps Timmy had come back with them last night; perhaps Millie really had seen him?

Grace shook herself out of that daydream. She would begin to fall apart if she believed that. She couldn't afford to consider it.

Before Millie woke up, she called Annabel.

‘Grace,' came her sister's tired voice. ‘Why are you calling so early? I've only just got to sleep! How was New Year?'

‘Rubbish,' Grace said. ‘How was yours?'

‘It was fine,' Annabel replied. ‘But it would have been better with you. I feel horrible for leaving you. I'm sorry. Mum and Dad are really cross with me. How are you getting on?'

‘You don't have to apologise,' Grace said, hearing her voice crack slightly. ‘You've done so much for me in the last twelve months. But, listen, I'm thinking about taking a breather. We might come down to London – can we stay with you?'

‘Oh Grace,' there was no mistaking the delight in Annabel's voice, ‘that's great. Of course you can. You're doing the right thing. I know you want to sort out the cottage, but you don't have to put yourself through hell to do it. You've done enough – the rest can be taken care of without you having to live there.'

As she listened to her sister's comforting words, a few tears broke loose and ran down Grace's face. When she hung up, she walked upstairs and looked out of the window across the moors. There are so many reasons why I can't wait to get out of here, she reminded herself as she surveyed the bleak view. So why do I still feel this galling pull to stay?

When Millie woke up, Grace dressed her warmly. ‘We're leaving today,' she whispered to her daughter.

Millie played at her feet for most of the morning while Grace rushed about packing up the kitchen. She was emptying the cutlery drawer when there was a loud rap on the door. She dropped the spoons she was holding, and they fell to the floor with a clatter, but Millie didn't even flinch.

Grace walked across to the window and pulled back the curtain to see Ben jiggling impatiently on the doorstep, his hands pushed into his pockets. Bess sat patiently next to him. As she looked at the dog, Grace remembered the open book on her bedside: a black dog that foretold death. Don't be so silly, she told herself, finding that in daylight it was a little easier to repel her fears.

She walked to the front door and pulled it open. He smiled easily at her. ‘Happy New Year, Grace.'

‘Happy New Year,' she echoed, feeling unaccountably pleased to see him.

‘I came to see what you'd like to do next on the cottage.'

‘Come in.'

He knelt close to Bess. ‘I won't be long. Stay here.'

Bess lay down on the doorstep in resigned reply.

As Grace brewed the kettle, Ben crouched down on the
lounge floor and spoke to Millie. Grace watched as Millie pulled herself up against Ben and stared into his face, putting a tiny finger out to poke at his nose, making him laugh.

‘Here you go,' Grace said a few minutes later, offering him a mug of steaming tea.

He got to his feet, took it from her, then they both sat down opposite one another.

Grace looked at his hopeful face. ‘I'm sorry, Ben, but I've decided to go away for a while – so everything will have to be put on hold.' She tried to pretend she didn't care that they would be saying goodbye, but she couldn't hold his gaze. This gentle, unexpected bond she'd formed with Ben was one she would certainly miss.

Ben looked surprised. ‘Where will you go?'

‘We're going to stay with Annabel, figure things out from there. I'm hoping to leave today.'

Ben cradled his mug in his hands. ‘Well, I'm sure you're doing the right thing. But for what it's worth, I will miss you both.'

Their eyes met. Ben looked away first, back down at his tea, as he said, ‘Now, can I do anything to help you, before you go? You're going to need to get cracking, Grace, the snow is due again this afternoon – you don't want to be driving in that in daylight, never mind at night.'

There was nothing tying them together any more, but Grace didn't want to say goodbye yet. So she hunted around for how he might help.

‘I'm pretty organised, I think. I just need to get the stuff in the hallway over to Ockton – I promised Emma that her sister could have them today for a jumble sale.'

‘Right then, I'll load them up for you.' He finished his drink, went through to the hallway and began taking boxes out to the car. After ten minutes, he was back at the door. ‘I don't think I can get any more in.'

Grace walked out into the hallway. There was one box left.

Millie had crawled behind her, and now she clung on to her mother's leg, wanting to be picked up. Grace stooped to get her, and Millie rubbed her eyes and leaned her head on Grace's shoulder.

‘You'll have to sleep in the car today, Millie,' Grace said. ‘We've got to go to town.' As Millie began to grumble, Grace realised that they hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and it was now almost lunchtime.

Ben was watching them. ‘I'll tell you what,' he said. ‘Why don't I mind Millie for you? Then you can put that box on her car seat, pop Millie into bed and spare her the trip to Ockton? And if you like, while Millie's asleep I'll sort that out for you a bit more.' He gestured to the mess where the kitchen wall had been.

After last night's upset Grace was uneasy about leaving Millie, but when she looked at Ben's gentle face, she was sure she could trust him. Millie obviously adored him, and it would really help her out. If Millie stayed with Ben she could have her lunch and then a proper nap, which would make her much better tempered for the journey later. Meanwhile, Grace could get through everything as fast as possible. She could drive to Gilldale before heading to Ockton and dropping off the boxes. She'd be back to pack up the car again and get well clear before the snow began. She didn't want to spend another night in the cottage.

‘I'd really appreciate that,' she agreed. ‘I'll be as fast as I can. There's a bowl of pasta for her in the fridge – can you give her that and then put her down for her sleep?'

Ben nodded. ‘Sure.'

Yet still, Grace hesitated.

‘Well, what are you waiting for?' Ben asked. ‘Go on.'

As she looked at his open face she had an urgent desire to tell him everything. Her suspicions about his family. The word LEAVE written on her car. Her vague concerns about Millie. How frightened she was that she would never shake off her torment over Adam's disappearance. And beneath it all lay her growing doubts about herself, and her state of mind. She opened her mouth to speak, but then he held his hands out to take Millie, and the moment passed.

She lifted her little girl up, looking into her eyes. ‘Mummy's nipping out for a while,' she told her.
And then we'll leave – go and figure out the next part of our life together. As long as we have each other, Millie, I know it will work out …

Millie reached a hand out and touched her mother's cheek, as though she was giving Grace a small, reassuring caress. Grace kissed her daughter's forehead, feeling unaccountably emotional, then held her out to Ben, relieved that Millie went to him willingly.

They followed Grace into the hallway as she collected her coat. ‘I'll be as fast as I can,' she said, opening the door and wavering on seeing the dismal grey sky.

‘Don't worry, take your time,' Ben said from the porch, bending down to give Bess a pat. ‘I've got no particular plans today.'

Grace smiled, ‘Thank you, Ben.'

He straightened, and she saw a flash of deep emotion in his eyes, gone in the moment it took her to blink.

She walked down the path and through the gate, then climbed into her car and set off on the drive along the top of the moors. As she headed away from the village, she reassured herself that in a few hours she could make this journey for the final time.