Sara Foster - Beneath the Shadows

Meredith made a formidable matriarch, Grace thought. Not someone to get on the wrong side of. She hadn’t seen any photos of Ben around the place, and wondered how his mother felt about his return to the village.

Meredith invited them to sit on a sofa, and perched on a chair, facing them. Grace had brought a few small board books to keep Millie entertained, and now she sat her daughter on her lap and handed her the pile.

‘Right,’ Meredith said, ‘I’m happy to answer questions, Annabel, but I don’t want my photograph taken.’

‘All right then,’ Annabel agreed, fishing a notepad and pen from her bag. ‘I’ll find something else.’ She looked beyond Meredith for a moment. ‘That’s a really unusual fireplace.’

Grace looked at the tall post which was standing beside the fireplace, strange markings carved into the top.

‘That’s a witching post,’ Meredith said, without turning around. She looked at the sisters, registering their apprehensive glances. ‘My grandfather knocked down some crumbling old cottages that had been here for centuries when he built this house. The witching post was found in one and he set it into the fireplace – he was too superstitious not to.’

‘And what is a witching post?’ Annabel queried, staring spellbound at the hearth.

‘There are various legends – mostly to do with them offering protection from witches,’ Meredith told them. ‘But you’re here to ask me about Timmy…’

‘Yes.’ Annabel shifted in her seat. ‘So, you say you have the ghost of a young child living with you?’

‘We do have Timmy’s ghost living with us,’ Meredith replied sternly.

‘Have you ever seen him?’

‘No. But as I told you before, two of my girls have – and I’m sure they’ll tell you about it if you ask them. I’ve only heard the banging of doors, and a child’s laughter, which are the more obvious indications of his presence… but there are subtle things too – usually items being moved around in certain rooms. And he also has a fondness for playing with the time on our mantelpiece clock.’

Grace started upon hearing this, and caught Meredith’s eye briefly, before Annabel diverted their attention, asking, ‘When was the first time you became aware of his presence?’

‘There have been stories in my family for years,’ Meredith told them, ‘but I never experienced him as a young child. He became more active in the seventies… my father always said it was because…’ Meredith stopped.

‘… Because?’ Annabel encouraged.

‘… Because I had young children in the house,’ Meredith finished, looking briefly at her hands as she spoke, then back at Annabel. ‘Perhaps my brood reminded him of when the place was a school, and he hoped to join in with their games.’

Grace looked down at Millie, who was still busy with her books. She was glad Millie wouldn’t understand the topic of conversation.

‘And when was the last time anyone saw him?’ Annabel asked.

‘It was when Jenny was a child. She was playing in her room and saw a young boy standing in the doorway, watching her. But she wasn’t frightened.’

‘No one’s seen him since?’

‘No, Annabel, I’m afraid not.’

‘So can you describe what it’s like, living with a ghost?’

Meredith gave a weary sigh. ‘It’s like living without a ghost, except for a few unexpected bumps and bangs now and again, and having to hunt for your pens or papers because the little scamp has moved them.’

‘It doesn’t scare you?’

Meredith gave a tight smile. ‘No, it doesn’t. It’s probably the least of my worries, in fact. Sorry.’

Annabel sighed. ‘Well, if there’s anything else you think of that might be interesting – now or later – could you let me know?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘And would you mind if I call again if I have any more questions?’

‘That’s fine.’ Meredith got to her feet. ‘Now, I’d better check how the cooking is going. Would you like a word with Veronica, while she’s here?’

‘Yes please,’ Annabel perked up, but before Meredith could leave, Grace set Millie on the floor and stood up. ‘Actually, Meredith, I have something to ask you as well – on a different subject.’

Meredith stopped in her tracks and turned slowly back around.

‘I’m trying to trace Jonny Templeton,’ Grace explained. ‘Can you tell me where he lived before he moved to Australia?’

‘Of course,’ Meredith said, and Grace thought she heard a trace of disdain in her voice. ‘Gilldale – a little village near Ockton. His family had a farm there called Riverview. His sister didn’t go to Australia with the family, she got married to an Ockton man and moved into town. I think she still lives there. She might be able to help you.’

‘Great – do you know her name?’

‘Josephine,’ Meredith replied. ‘I’ll let you know if I think of anything else, shall I?’

Grace nodded. ‘Thank you for your help.’

‘I’ll ask Veronica to come in now,’ Meredith said over her shoulder as she left the room.

While they waited, it was clear to Grace that her sister had been riled by Meredith’s offhand manner. Annabel looked like she were about to start talking, but Grace muttered, ‘Not now.’ A few moments later, a face poked hesitantly around the door.

‘Mum said you wanted to see me?’

‘Yes.’ Annabel indicated the sofa opposite her with a wave of her pad. ‘I’d love to ask you a few questions – about Timmy.’

Veronica regarded them worriedly.

‘The ghost?’ Annabel prompted.

Veronica closed the door gently behind her and sat down. ‘Look, Annabel, this is a bit embarrassing – what’s Mum told you?’

‘That you and Jenny saw Timmy as children.’

Veronica seemed sheepish. ‘Okay, please don’t tell Mum this… but… we made it up. We were attention-seeking… If we’d known Mum would tell these stories until the end of time, we might have thought twice. I’m not saying he doesn’t exist, but I don’t think either of us wants to start talking about him with a journalist. Can you drop it? I’m really sorry.’

Annabel sat back and closed her eyes for a moment. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll work something else out.’

Grace could see that her sister was inwardly seething. She sat there embarrassed, as Veronica asked, ‘Would you like to stay for another drink?’

Before Annabel could say anything, Grace answered, ‘No, it’s fine, we need to get back for lunch. Thanks anyway.’

Veronica showed them out. They set off in silence, but as soon as they were away from the house Annabel blurted, ‘Well, that’s my story down the toilet.’

‘Come on, Bel, there are loads of ghost stories around here. You’ll just have to think of a new angle.’

‘That’s not the point,’ Annabel grumbled, and they lapsed back into silence.

A few minutes later, Grace saw Jenny and Claire crossing the bridge and heading up the hill towards them. She wondered if they had been to see their brother, and was about to give them a wave, when Claire looked up and saw them, then threaded her arm through Jenny’s. There was something out of place about the gesture, Grace thought. Something that made her keep her arm by her side as they got closer. When they passed one another, Claire said a cheerful hello, but both women kept up their stride.

‘That was a bit odd,’ Grace said as soon as they were out of earshot.

‘What?’ Annabel queried distractedly. ‘Oh… It was fine, Grace, stop being so suspicious of everything. Come on, let’s hurry up and get back. I need to see what I can do to rescue this piece. I wish I hadn’t told the features ed about it now, I’m going to look like a total idiot.’