Beneath the Shadows

‘Oh, no problem,’ Claire replied, ‘bring her along too. Come about midday – we’ll see you then.’ And she walked away down the hill with a wave.

As Grace watched her go, she felt the first spots of rain sting her face. Then she saw Claire move tight against the side of the lane, as a small red hatchback swung into view, bouncing across the bridge. Claire glared after the car, and Grace grimaced. She could always trust her sister to make an entrance.

The next day, Grace woke up to a weak sunshine pushing its way in through the curtains. For once the other side of the bed was not an empty hollow. Rather, it contained a person snoring softly, dressed in a silky nightie, wearing a pink eye mask and with bright pink earplugs stuffed into her ears. Grace had laughed at A

‘I know, but I can’t sleep without them now.’

Sharing a bed reminded Grace of their childhood. The pillow fights; the pinching and tickling; the risqué novels they had read in whispers by torchlight. The last time A

She jerked back to the present as she heard Millie stirring, and went to get her. By the time she had made Millie’s cereal, A

‘Morning,’ A

The unflinching assessment bothered Grace. But before she could work out why, A

‘I thought we could take a look in the attic, see if there’s anything up there.’

A

‘Then we could go for a walk …’

At this, A

‘… or not,’ Grace continued dryly. ‘Whatever, we’ll have to be back in time for lunch at Meredith’s. And tonight, we could walk down to the local pub.’

‘That sounds more like it,’ A

‘We’ll take her with us. If I get her ready for bed then she’ll sleep in her pushchair. It’s only a short walk from here.’

‘I didn’t notice a pub when I drove in.’

‘Then you didn’t look hard enough!’ Grace replied. ‘Anyway, come on through here, have some breakfast and then we’ll make a start on the attic.’

A

‘Morning, Millie,’ A

Millie’s head swung up in alarm, then she looked at Grace, her face begi

A

‘Hey, daydreamer,’ A

Grace smiled as she handed a plate of toast to A

‘She’s not great at feeding herself yet,’ Grace explained, taking a seat at the table and continuing to offer cereal to Millie.

A

Grace smiled, remembering the enthusiasm with which she’d decorated the London flat she’d shared with Adam – keeping most of the walls neutral, and applying careful splashes of colour to each room. Now, looking at the intricate floral patterns of the faded wallpaper and carpet, and the mismatched furniture, she had to agree with A

‘Well, this place will be having a makeover soon enough,’ she replied. ‘I’ve got someone coming round tomorrow to give me a quote on renovations.’ She began to explain what she was hoping to do with the cottage, but could tell that A

‘Am I boring you?’ she asked after a while.

‘Sorry, no,’ A

‘That’s what you get for being a high-living, cut-throat journalist,’ Grace said, rising from her seat and collecting their plates. She had a flashback to her own former busy life: how purposefully she’d marched through the tube tu

‘Well, actually, I’m applying for a change,’ A

Before Grace could reply, the grandfather clock began to chime.

‘Bloody hell!’ A

‘I don’t know.’ Grace walked into the hallway and stood for a moment watching the pendulum on its steady arc from side to side. As A