Grace frowned. The woman was confused, speaking words that made no sense, yet Grace found herself rooted to the spot.

‘Heard what? I don’t understand what you are telling me?’

The woman began to walk away, her long even strides rustling beneath the black crepe of her dress. Grace followed.

‘Tell me,’ she called out. ‘What do you mean you were there and “heard it all”?’

‘I heard your father raping your mother. Why else do you think she married Daniel Kellow? It was because her belly was already filled with your father’s seed.’

The walls distorted and moved about her, playing a trick to ease her pain, yet threatening to swallow her whole in the process. Grace gasped for air.

‘No! You lie!’ she shouted as she pulled at the old woman’s arm which was no more than skin and bone wrapped in fabric. ‘My father would never do a thing like that!’

The woman looked back at her with hard, cold eyes and shrugged her arm from her grasp.

‘How would you know what a man is capable of doing?’

Grace retreated, confused. The woman was mad. To accuse her father of such a vile act proved that she must be. In shock, she watched the woman walk away, disappearing amongst the black shadows of the corridor. Grace exploded with anger. How dare she spread such wicked lies! She ran after her, determined to confront her.

‘It is wicked to say such things!’ she called out. ‘Wicked! Do you hear me?’ She ran to the hall and searched the ground floor, flinging the doors open one by one for only empty rooms to greet her. She climbed the stairs to the first floor and hurriedly searched each room in turn. ‘Where are you?’ she shouted. ‘I dare you to repeat it to my face again. Come out and face me!’ Her own voice echoed back to mock her.

Grace paused at the door of the grand boudoir, breathless and frustrated. As she caught her breath she noticed that the painting of the woman with auburn hair was now hanging on the far wall. The former housekeeper had recently been here, gaining access by way of the servants’ backstairs as she searched the rooms below. It was her parting act, as the woman had gone and taken her secrets with her.

* * *

Grace scrambled out of the dairy window, crossed the garden and headed for the footpath that would take her in the direction of her home. She was still on Bosvenna property when a man stepped out from behind a tree. It was Alfred and he appeared as shocked to see her as she was to see him.

‘Grace. What are you doing ’ere?’

He caught her arm to stop her. Grace did not have the stamina for Alfred right now. He would see this as another opportunity to speak to her and she had grown tired of his persistent advances months ago. She took a deep breath to calm herself. It took all her strength to remain polite and not shake him off.

‘Alfred . . . please . . . I just want to go home.’

His hand squeezed her arm. ‘You look upset? What’s the matter?’

Grace stared at his grimy fingers, darkened by the smut of a blacksmith’s fire. He was genuinely concerned. Grace felt her resolve to keep walking drain away. He was offering her support and right now she needed it.

‘Someone has been saying some terrible things,’ she confided. Alfred’s hand fell away from her arm. ‘It’s all lies,’ she reassured him — or was she reassuring herself? ‘None of it’s true.’

‘Who ’as? Do you want me to beat ’em?’

Alfred’s reply reminded her why she didn’t like him. He drank too much, was coarse and, if rumours were true, he had drowned six kittens in a sack last Michaelmas. She realised if it was an understanding ear she wanted, Alfred was not capable of providing it. She grew uneasy. She had confided too much in him already, it was her parents’ help she should be seeking.

‘Just an old woman who used to work here. She is confused, that’s all.’ Grace retreated away from him. ‘I have to go.’

‘I’ll walk you ’ome.’

‘No!’ She softened her refusal with a smile. ‘I’m sorry, Alfred. I want to be alone right now. Goodbye.’

‘You think I’m not good enough for you to be seen with me,’ he called after her as she hurried away.

Grace ignored him. His sudden change of mood, from one of concern to irritation, was another reminder why she did not care for him.

‘Did you ’ear me, Grace Kellow?’ Alfred shouted after her. ‘Well, I’ve news for you. You are no better than I, with your airs and graces. There are plenty of women who would like to walk out with me.’

Grace broke into a run. She wasn’t frightened of Alfred, his behaviour was more of an irritant than anything to fear. One day he would find another girl to pester and perhaps she would be more willing and see his clumsy courtship in a more favourable light than Grace did. Right now courting was far from her mind. She needed to find out the truth and confront her parents about what the old woman had told her.

It was only later, as she sat alone in her bedroom looking at her reflection in the mirror, did she think of Alfred again and wonder why he was there, or who he had been waiting for.

* * *

Alfred watched Grace walk away. He only became aware that his aunt was standing by his side when he felt her needle-sharp eyes upon him.

‘Did you see the ’ouse?’ he asked, quietly.

‘Yes.’ His aunt sniffed loudly beside him. ‘It is shameful how they have left it to decay. It was such a fine house once.’

Alfred’s jaw tightened. He had agreed to accompany his aunt to see the house, but now he just wanted to be gone. He turned to go.

His aunt, who never missed anything, put her bony hand on his arm and stopped him. ‘That is a mutinous look you have on your face. What’s upset you, boy?’

Alfred stared at her translucent fingers. His aunt was a cold woman and he doubted she would understand. He found it hard himself to know why his feelings for Grace still felt so raw, even after all this time. He gently removed her hand and attempted to leave again, but the old woman stopped him by simply saying his name, such was the power the old woman still had over him even after all these years.

‘Don’t turn away from me when I am speaking to you. I brought you up better than that.’

‘You ’elped my mother and you only did it in exchange for a roof over your ’ead. As soon as we were old enough you were off elsewhere.’

‘Your mother and I didn’t get on.’

‘Father gave you an ’ome when you ’ad nowhere to go.’

‘And I scrubbed and cleaned for him and that awful wife of his and got no thanks for it.’

Alfred turned away from her. His gaze settled on Grace’s figure receding into the distance. It was true, his mother had been a shrew. There had been no love in their house, but despite the coldness and lack of affection, he always felt that out of all his sisters and brothers, his aunt had taken to him the most. And he had missed that scrap of attention when she had left.

He looked at her. Despite her age, she still carried herself well. There were no rounded shoulders or excess weight and her mind was still sharp as a blade. The old woman still had the power to cut you down to size with one lash of her tongue.

‘You are right,’ he conceded, ‘they gave you no thanks. Anyway, they are both dead and gone now and I’m glad you are back in these parts.’

His aunt tilted her chin and looked through her glasses at him. ‘You don’t look glad.’ She looked past her nephew to the woman he had been staring at only seconds before. A woman too far away to see in detail, but her auburn hair still shone in the sun, marking her out from any other girl in the parish. ‘Do you know that girl?’

Alfred nodded slowly. ‘That is Grace Kellow. I used to walk out with ’er, but she wants nothing to do with me now. I’m not good enough for ’er.’

‘Is that what she said?’

Alfred shrugged, ‘She didn’t need to. She’s Daniel Kellow’s daughter. ’E owns Kellow Dairy. ’Er family will want a better man for their daughter than me.’

His aunt stiffened, growing taller with indignation. ‘Humph! The Kellows think they are better than you?’ She took a step closer to her nephew so they stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the girl in the distance. ‘They’re wrong. Their daughter may have a pretty face, but the family have a skeleton they are hiding which is larger than most.’