‘Sorry,’ Grace said, as the boy who had brought her disappeared through another door. ‘I was looking for Meredith.’

‘Ah,’ said the woman, coming forward with her hand outstretched. ‘You must be Annabel. Mum said you were coming. I’m Veronica, her eldest, and this is my husband Steve.’

Veronica was wearing jeans and a jumper, but Steve was in a suit and tie, as though he had just come from work. As he came across to shake Grace’s hand, Meredith’s dog Pippa barged through the inner door. The animal flew across the room, jumping up at Grace and sending her staggering backwards beneath its weight. Grace tried to catch the dog’s paws to steady herself, but she was pushed out of the kitchen door into the garden, landing with a thump on the snow.

Annabel rounded the corner with Millie, as Steve rushed outside and grabbed the dog’s collar. ‘Pippa, come here,’ he ordered, leading her back indoors.

‘Are you all right?’ Veronica asked apologetically, offering Grace a hand up. ‘I’m sorry. Bobby shouldn’t have let her out.’

‘I’m fine,’ Grace said when she was on her feet, dusting herself off. ‘I’m Grace. This is Annabel.’ She looked towards Annabel to find that her sister was almost doubled up laughing, and gave her a pretend scowl. ‘And this is my daughter, Millie.’

Millie was leaning forward in the pushchair, her mouth hanging open as she looked between her mother and the door where the dog had disappeared.

‘Come on in,’ Veronica said. ‘We’ll give Mum a shout. Hasn’t this weather been awful? Mind you, it keeps the kids busy – they’ve been out playing in it all day.’

Once they were inside, Steve indicated an open bottle of wine. ‘Can I get you both a drink?’

‘One of those would be lovely,’ Annabel agreed.

‘Water’s fine for me, thanks,’ Grace said. ‘Did you all have a good Christmas?’

‘Great, great,’ Veronica replied. ‘The snow’s made it difficult to get back to Ockton, so we’ve been staying here. I don’t think Mum was banking on us all being here for so long, but she’s coping very well.’

‘She loves it,’ Steve said. ‘I’ve given her a shout, she’ll be here in a second.’

At that moment, Meredith appeared. As usual, the older woman had composed her expression to one of courteous welcome, and it was impossible to tell if there was genuine feeling behind it.

‘Hello, Meredith,’ Annabel said, but Meredith was looking at Grace.

‘I didn’t know you were coming, Grace.’

Grace was caught off-guard – was she not welcome now? ‘I wanted a word with you.’

The older woman’s eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘Come through to the lounge, then,’ she said.

Grace unbuckled Millie from her pushchair, and followed Annabel through the house. They entered a cosy lounge room where a fire was blazing. Pippa sat by the hearth, and began to get up as they approached, until Meredith commanded, ‘Stay.’ The dog lay back down again and put her head on her paws.

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.