in love and everything, and then getting old and dying.’
‘Babe, it happens to us all, you know? Everyone gets old and dies sometime. Unless they die young.’
‘Dying young would be better than fading away.’
‘Bet you won’t say that when you’re fifty.’ Matt playfully punched her arm.
‘Fifty’s already old.’
‘You should try to find out who that Joan and Jack were,’ Matt said. ‘Like, if one of them lived in the house, maybe your great-gran would know. Maybe one of them was some relative of yours. You might not feel so creeped out about them if you knew who they were. My mum’s into the whole genealogy thing, you know. She spends hours online, trying to fill in gaps in the family tree. It’s kind of interesting, in a way.’
Kelly considered this. Maybe it would be a good idea to do a bit of research and find out who they were. Joan was such an old-fashioned name. It had to be someone from long ago. But who?
***
A week later, Ali and Pete had unpacked everything and flattened the hundreds of boxes, which were now stacked in the garage waiting for the removal company to come and collect them. They’d arranged the furniture and hung curtains, and the house looked respectable enough to entertain visitors. It was beginning to feel like home, though Ali could still not believe they actually owned the house outright, after their years of renting. They’d met several neighbours as well as spending a pleasant evening with Jason from next door, the day after moving in. He seemed to be a thoroughly pleasant chap. In some ways he reminded Ali a little of her father.
She had invited her grandmother to tea that afternoon and was busy making preparations. Kelly was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and texting.
‘Kelly, will you help me make a cake for your great-gran?’ Ali asked. ‘You know what a sweet tooth she has. Dad’s collecting her this afternoon. She’d love a home-made cake.’
‘Aw, Mum. I hate baking. I’ve got loads of homework to do as well. We’ve started a module in history about life for ordinary people during the Second World War. I’ve got a stack of reading to do for it.’
‘Oh. All right then, I’ll do it. You should go and get on with your homework now. Get it out of the way before she comes, so you can spend some time with her. Remember it’s going to be a lovely big surprise for her, that we’re in this house where she grew up.’
Kelly looked up from her phone and frowned. ‘I don’t get why you didn’t tell her we were moving.’
Ali began collecting together the ingredients for a Victoria sponge cake. ‘Well, I did tell her we were moving house, just didn’t say we were moving here. She knows we inherited it from Betty, but I’d let on that we were planning to sell it. I thought it’d be a lovely surprise for her to find that we’ve actually moved in, and are bringing the house back to life. I can’t wait to see her face when she arrives.’
‘Hmm, well. I’ll go and do my homework now, then,’ said Kelly. She picked up her phone and tea mug, scraped back her chair and left the room.
At ten to three Pete was dispatched to collect Margaret Eliot from her nursing home. Gran was 89, and as Ali’s parents lived in Spain it had fallen to Ali to make arrangements for her when she’d become unable to cope in her own home any longer. She’d also had to sort out a place for Great-aunt Betty, who’d spent the last couple of years of her life in a different nursing home. Ali had always felt it was sad that the two sisters didn’t get on, but Gran had never said much about why that was. Anyway, it was too late now.
Ali bustled round, putting plates, cups and saucers ready on a tray, filling the kettle, and sprinkling icing sugar over the top of the Victoria sponge. It had come out well. She wasn’t much of a baker herself, but it was worth making the effort for Gran, who would certainly appreciate it.
She went into the living room, the window of which looked out onto the street, to await Gran’s arrival. A couple of minutes later, Pete’s car pulled into the driveway. Ali rushed out to the front door, calling up the stairs to Kelly and Ryan as she went.
Outside, Pete was wrestling with Gran’s Zimmer frame, trying to pull it out of the boot, while Gran remained sitting in the passenger seat. He was swearing quietly. ‘Darn thing went in all right. Why won’t it come out?’
Ali went round to open Margaret’s door.
‘Gran! I’ve been so looking forward to bringing you here. What do you think of our new house? Of course, you know it well. I’ll hardly need to give you a guided tour!’
Margaret’s face was stony. ‘Hello, Alison. I think you’ve got a bit of explaining to do. Why didn’t you tell me you were moving into this house?’
‘I thought it would be a lovely surprise for you,’ Ali said. Oh no. Don’t say Gran was upset by it. Had she got it all wrong?
‘Well it’s certainly a surprise, but not a lovely one. I’m here now. May as well come inside, I suppose. Never thought I would have to set foot inside this cursed place again.’
Pete, standing by with the walking frame, raised his eyebrows at Ali. She gave a small shrug in response. ‘Come on then, Gran. Let me help you out of the car.’
Inside, Kelly and Ryan came running down the stairs. Each of them hugged Margaret tightly, and Ali was relieved to see her grandmother smile at them. Whatever had put her in a bad mood, she still seemed delighted to see the children.
Kelly took the old lady’s arm and led her into the sitting room. Gran sat down in an armchair and looked about the room. ‘It’s strange. This room feels so familiar but so different. It must be ten years or more since I was here last. Yes, it was back in 2002, after my poor Roy died. Betty came to his funeral and then a week later invited me for tea. Just a duty invitation, it was. She didn’t really want to see me, but I suppose she thought she ought to. And I didn’t really want to come, but felt I should. Alison, I thought you were going to sell this house?’
‘We were, but we thought if we modernised it first it’d be worth more. And it seemed sensible to live in it while we did the work, rather than pay rent,’ Pete said.
Margaret nodded thoughtfully. Ali was glad at least that their reasoning seemed to make sense to her.
‘Great-gran, which room did you have when you lived here?’ Kelly asked.
‘Well now, it was the one on the left, next to the bathroom,’ Margaret replied.
‘That’s mine, now,’ Ryan said, triumphantly. ‘I got the big one.’
‘I’m in the smaller one at the back, over the kitchen,’ Kelly said. ‘Whose was that? Was it Betty’s?’
‘No,’ Gran said sharply. ‘It wasn’t Betty’s. She had the one at the front of the house. The back one was … just a storage room.’
‘Who was …’ began Kelly, at the same time that Ali said, ‘Tea, Gran? I’ve been baking. I know how much you like a home-made cake, and though I say it myself, I think I’ve done well.’ She brought in the tray with the Victoria sponge, and smiled as Gran’s eyes lit up.
‘Alison, that looks magnificent. I shall
