behind her. The shed door was indeed hanging open, swinging in the wind. The cloud was dispersing as they watched, the landscape opening up before them, revealing a panoramic view across the countryside below.
‘It’s breathtaking, isn’t it,’ Sian said as she latched the door firmly in place.
Andy was speechless with delight as she stared down. Cloud still laced the green of the valleys and foothills below them, white and fluffy as sunbeams spotlit different areas in turn.
‘I’m glad you like my view.’ The voice behind her made Andy spin round to see who had spoken.
There was no one there.
‘Did you hear that?’ she gasped.
‘What?’
‘A voice. A man’s voice. Meryn’s voice? He said he was glad I liked his view.’ Andy turned round, scanning the garden behind them, her wild hair flying. ‘No. No, I’m sorry. I’m hearing things. It must have been the wind. There’s no one here.’
Sian gave a cryptic smile. ‘I thought you two would get on. Perhaps he’ll come back now he knows there is someone interesting up here for him to talk to.’
When Andy let herself back into Sleeper’s Castle later she found the message light blinking on the telephone. It was her mother. ‘Darling, ring me back when you get a chance. I’ve had an idea which I hope you will like.’
Andy sat staring at the phone for several minutes before she complied. She used to think that she and her mother had a special telepathic link, but over the years she had lived with Graham it had gone. Now her mother resorted to the phone when she needed to speak to her daughter exactly like anyone else.
‘Mum? How are you?’
‘I’m fine. I wondered if you needed anything from the stuff you’ve stored here. Now you’ve moved in, you might want a few of your books around you.’ Nina hesitated. ‘I know you didn’t have time for your old interests when you were living with Graham, but now, maybe they will come back and, if you like, I could drive up and spend a weekend with you and bring anything you need. Only if you would like me to, of course.’ Her mother’s voice was rapidly losing its confidence in the face of Andy’s silence.
‘How did you know?’ Andy said at last.
‘Know?’
‘Never mind. Yes please. I need any books I’ve got about dreaming; my mind, body and spirit books; my ghost books. And I would love it if you came to stay. Whenever you like. As soon as possible.’
Nina Dysart arrived the following Friday evening. She stood for a few moments staring up at the house after she climbed out of her car then she made her way towards the front door.
‘Mum!’ Andy had heard the car. ‘Come in. It’s so good to see you.’ They exchanged a long warm hug.
Mother and daughter did not resemble one another. Andy was tall, her eyes grey, her hair light brown, shoulder length and curly. Her mother’s hair was white, cut short and neat, and her eyes an intense brown. While Andy’s clothes inclined towards the colourful and artistic, Nina was always immaculately dressed in carefully matched neutrals. She wasn’t as tall as Andy and her figure was petite, but there was no mistaking the fact that they were mother and daughter. Their mannerisms were similar, their voices blended, they both talked at once and then paused and laughed and both started again.
‘Oh, Mum, it’s so good to see you!’ Andy caught her mother’s hands and squeezed them. ‘I have missed you.’
Nina pulled free and gave her daughter a quizzical look. ‘You can’t have missed me so soon, darling. Not possible. So, what’s wrong? Have you made a ghastly mistake coming here?’
‘No!’ Andy’s denial was adamant. Then she paused. ‘No,’ she said again, less sure this time.
‘So, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Supposing you show me round,’ Nina said. ‘Then you can give me an incredibly strong cup of coffee after that horrendous drive, then we will talk.’
Unloading the books almost defeated them. They brought in half a dozen cartons and stacked them in the living room. Andy stared round helplessly. ‘I’d forgotten I had so many. I hadn’t thought about shelves. I will have to have some made I suppose.’
‘Rubbish. Not in someone else’s house. Buy flat-pack. Have you got a handyman who can put them up for you? I think you mentioned a gardener?’
Andy gave a hollow laugh. ‘I don’t think I would dare ask him.’
‘Why?’ Her mother paused in the middle of what she was doing and stared at her.
‘He doesn’t seem to approve of my presence here. Don’t worry.’ Andy straightened her back with a groan. ‘I am capable of assembling a flat-pack. It can’t be that hard. In the meantime let’s pile the books round the walls in here.’ She glanced helplessly out of the window. There were at least four more boxes in her mother’s car.
It was like meeting old friends. Every few minutes she stopped to look at the book she’d just unpacked and run an affectionate hand over the cover. ‘I have missed all the mind, body and spirit stuff. It was such a passion of mine for so long.’ She gave Nina a wan smile.
‘Not everything about Graham was good for you,’ her mother put in tartly. ‘I know you loved him to bits and you worked well together, but he rode roughshod over so much that was you, my darling. He moulded you into his ideal woman.’
Andy wasn’t sure whether to be angry and amused. ‘You make me sound like a Stepford wife!’
‘No. But it was odd for you to cut such a large part of your own personality out of your life. He didn’t like animals, did he? So you didn’t have any pets. He wasn’t interested in history or old buildings. You used to do such wonderful paintings of ruins in landscapes, do you remember? And you loved visiting them. You used to cook; you adored cooking. With Graham, I know because you told me once, you ate out all the time or had snacks because he didn’t see the point of wasting time in the kitchen.’
Andy nodded ruefully. ‘Do you know, I’ve lost the instinct to cook. I have this beautiful Aga here and I haven’t done more than boil the kettle or heat up a can of soup.’
‘QED!’ Her mother stared round. ‘This lovely kitchen going to waste. Now that I know what I’m destined to have for supper I will insist tomorrow we go shopping and stock the larder, then you can start cooking. I want decent food while I’m here and you can practise on me.’
Andy sat up a long time after her mother had gone to bed, thinking over everything she had said. She was right. So much of what made Andy Andy was on hold, battened down somewhere at the back of her head. She thought about that wonderful feeling of freedom she had experienced on her first night here, the joy of going out into the garden and feeling the wind in
