Selena watched from the garden seat as Ian Russell and Rob busied themselves like strutting bantams, poking sizzling sausages on the barbecue, flourishing long-pronged forks. They were both wearing aprons; Ian’s was a blue and white striped affair and Rob wore a thick canvas one with a dagger design and the slogan I’ve Got Your Back, Caesar, (Brutus 44BC), which he was showing off to everyone with far too much enthusiasm.
Selena smiled and wondered why men loved to preside over a barbecue so much; it was the same at her parents’ house in Buxton: her dad would always stand over the flames and smile broadly as if he was Hades in charge of the underworld. She reminded herself that she should call her parents soon; they had been worried about her after the split with David. Of course, she hadn’t told them about the miscarriage: her mum would have wanted to rush over at once and she’d have been furious with David, whom she’d met twice and disliked instantly. Her dad was more like Selena: a little reticent, more tolerant and laid-back, but she knew that both she and her father were resilient, strong at the centre when it was most needed.
Selena sipped wine and gazed at the other guests who were sitting around a table on wooden chairs: Joely was talking to Lesley about a lotion she’d created using lady’s mantle, which was perfect for the skin of older women. Lesley had just demanded a bucket of it, complaining that her face was always dry once the summer arrived. Claire was chatting to Matty and Laura, telling them in a low, confidential voice that sleeping in the same bed as Selena each night had been a lifesaver; she hadn’t had to stay in the scary second bedroom, which terrified her now. Besides, Selena’s bedroom window opened on to the back garden where the birdsong at dawn was so peaceful: being in the cottage was so different to her life in Manchester, where she would wake at night to the sounds of the busy city.
Then Joely refilled their glasses and Lesley rushed over to sit next to Selena, who was staring up at the sky where the white disc of a moon was just rising.
‘I love the garden at this time, don’t you, Selena? Dusk, or, as the locals say here, when it gets dimpsey.’
Selena agreed. ‘Especially this part – the grass and the herb garden and the well. It just feels so calm.’
‘Have you heard the well bubble? If you get close enough, you can hear the sound of the water moving. The chattering well.’
‘It’s lovely. So relaxing.’
‘It’s a shame Nick was working tonight. I’m sure he’d have enjoyed being here.’ Lesley nodded towards Selena meaningfully. ‘He has a PhD student, Sara, who always asks him for help after hours and then tries to persuade him to join her in a wine bar. I think she’s a little bit in love with him.’
Selena smiled: she knew Lesley was trying to gauge her reaction, so she said, ‘I’m sure he can take care of himself.’
‘She’s not his type, but she seems desperate to talk poetry to him all the time.’ Lesley raised an eyebrow. ‘And what about you – you’re single, aren’t you? No boyfriend up in Manchester?’
‘No one.’ Selena decided to keep her response simple. Then she added, ‘It’s so nice to be here, where I’m able to paint and spend time by myself.’ She wondered if her words made her sound stand-offish or rude, so she continued, ‘But I’ve made some lovely friends in Ashcombe – it’s such a treat to spend time with you all.’
‘And you’ll be seeing Nick at the weekend.’
‘Oh yes – we’re going to do some research on the house.’ Selena couldn’t keep the enthusiasm from her voice. ‘I’m so keen to discover the names of the people behind the history of Sloe Cottage.’
‘I must remember to find that box in the attic for you – I’m sure there will be something of interest.’ Lesley seemed pleased. ‘And Nick enjoys spending time with you – I can tell.’
‘He’s nice,’ Selena replied, then she was concerned that she had let her guard down.
Fortunately, Ian turned from the barbecue waving a fork, and called, ‘Grub’s ready, everyone. Time to dig in.’
Selena smiled with relief and rushed forward: she was not hungry, but she was pleased to avoid talking to Lesley about her son: she was sure there was a glint in her eye that implied matchmaking and made her feel a little awkward.
Selena piled salad onto her plate and accepted a sausage and a piece of sweetcorn from Rob, resolving to sort out her love life at her own pace.
Then a Transit van drove through the gate, wheels crunching on gravel, and Ian waved a hand. ‘Oh, look who’s here. Just in time.’
Laura saw Selena’s confused expression and grabbed her arm. ‘It’s Jonathan Shears. Ian said he was going to invite him. Don’t you remember his little girl at the primary school, Phoebe?’
‘The one who claimed the cottage was…’ Selena’s voice trailed off as she watched a tall tousle-haired man leap from the van and walk quickly towards the group seated around the table near the barbecue: he carried a six-pack of beers in his hand and was smiling.
‘Hello,’ he called. ‘I hope I’m not late.’
Ian held out a hand. ‘Good to see you, Jonathan. This is Selena, our talented tenant – and her friend, Claire, and I suppose you know everyone else.’
Jonathan nodded towards Selena and selected a can of beer, ripping off the ring pull, pushing the foaming liquid to his lips. ‘I’ll only have the one beer – I’m driving,’ he announced. Then he accepted a plate of food from Rob and murmured, ‘Lovely. Thanks, Rob. Nice to see you out and about – I must pop over and do your chimney before the winter sets in.’
‘Jonathan is our local chimney sweep,’ Lesley told Selena. ‘He comes up to Hilltop every year to sort out our flues. How are Katie and the kids, Jonathan?’
‘All fine.’ Jonathan wiped beer foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘My eldest one, Phoebe’s a handful – she’s turning out to be a right little madam. And Mae, our little one who’s just six, she’s her mother’s little princess, both girls are spoiled rotten.’ He shrugged. ‘I keep saying that one of them will have to take over Dad’s business one day, but neither are keen.’
He was devouring a sausage as Laura said, ‘Your girls are lovely. Adorable.’
Jonathan rolled his eyes, drew up a wooden chair and sat down. ‘Expensive habit, having three women at home to keep. I’m glad to be able to get out once in a while, to give myself a break.’ He glanced at Selena. ‘Thanks for inviting me.’
‘If you need a job, Jonathan, you can come over and sweep the chimney in Sloe Cottage,’ Ian said. ‘I don’t think you’ve done it for a couple of years.’
‘I might.’
There was the quiet sound of munching; Laura refilled her glass, then Claire’s and Lesley’s.
Jonathan handed beers to Ian and Rob and said, ‘It’s nice out here in the garden. Better than inside. I don’t much like being inside the house, especially the old part.’
Claire exchanged a look with Selena, raising an eyebrow, and said, ‘We’ve had some strange experiences in there too.’
Jonathan replied. ‘The upstairs bedroom’s the one that bothers me – the old one. The chimney flue goes right through behind the wall, up to where the old thatch roof must have been, and I can’t say I like the atmosphere in there. I thought I saw a woman’s face peeping out the window once.’
‘It is creepy,’ Claire agreed. ‘I can’t sleep in that room. There’s definitely a presence – both Selena and I heard a voice in there. It was quite harrowing.’
‘I suggested lighting some sage candles,’ Joely said. ‘To purify and smudge…’
Lesley held up a hand. ‘The cottage has been in our family for years. It’s all a bit old and stale in the original part, that’s why we renovated it, and a few people have said that it’s, you know, cold in the downstairs room, that it has a bit of a strange feel to it, but I can’t say it’s bothered me much.’
Selena sipped wine. ‘It’s nice to sit in the conservatory.’
‘After those noises the other night, I couldn’t live here alone.’ Claire shuddered. ‘I don’t know how you do it, Selena.’
Ian gave a short laugh. ‘I’ve met a couple of people who have stayed for a week and said that they wouldn’t want to come back.’
‘Ian,’ Lesley protested. ‘Don’t scare Selena.’
‘I don’t think our Selena is scared,’ Laura said.
Selena sighed. ‘I’ve had my moments – and I’m glad Claire was here a few nights ago when we thought we heard a voice in her room. Having so many visitors really helps. But I’m really enjoying painting here, all the peace and quiet.’
‘The painting you did of Wychanger Lane was wonderful,’ Joely added.
‘But what of the ghost?’ Claire turned to Jonathan. ‘Tell me I’m imagining the sounds we heard the other day from that room…’
‘I don’t expect you imagined it.’ Jonathan had finished his beer. ‘My family have lived in Ashcombe for generations. My grandma told me about an old woman who lived in Sloe Cottage, centuries ago. She used to say that her ghost still haunts the place. We’d sit round Granny Shears’ fire and she’d tell us kids all the spine-chilling tales that were handed down – it used to scare us something terrible.’
‘What stories?’ Laura asked. ‘Selena – are you all right with this?’
‘I’m fine,’ Selena said, feeling a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness. ‘It’s just stories…’
Lesley grinned optimistically. ‘It might help you and Nick with the research.’
Claire elbowed Selena and mouthed, ‘Who’s Nick?’ She was smiling in a way that Selena found a little troubling.
Selena winked and hoped that would satisfy Claire for now: it was harder than she’d thought to tell her best friend about her growing feelings for Nick. She knew the reason was entirely to do with how badly David had treated her and how subsequently Claire would be loyal and over-protective.
‘Yes, tell us about this so-called ghost…’ Rob leaned forward.
‘Go on,’ Matty urged. ‘I’ve heard something mentioned in the pub about a ghost here, but I never heard any real details…’
‘Hundreds of years ago…’ Jonathan took a breath, his eyes gleaming. ‘There was an old woman who lived here called Granny Cotter. She was a bad old woman, a witch, like – she’d put spells on people in the village and terrible things would happen to them.’ He noticed his audience listening, rapt. ‘No, not Granny – Old Mother Cotter, she was called. Apparently, her ghost is still here. She can’t rest.’
‘What happened to her?’ Laura breathed.
‘My grandmother used to say that she got what she deserved – she came to a sticky end. She was old and ugly, all warts and bad teeth…’ Jonathan noticed that Lesley was losing interest; Joely was gazing around the garden and Rob was staring at his empty plate, keen to go back to the barbecue for seconds, so he continued with added enthusiasm, ‘The ghost of Old Mother Cotter has been seen loads of times. People have noticed her staring out the window, a pale face, and she’s been seen floating or standing by that tree.’ Jonathan shot out a finger, pointing towards the window.
‘The blackthorn?’ Rob said.
‘The witch’s tree,’ Laura added, her voice soft.
Jonathan’s eyes gleamed. ‘Ah, well, she would be next to a witch’s tree, wouldn’t she?’ He lowered his tone for effect. ‘Because she was a real witch.’
Selena cradled her glass. ‘I think I’ve seen her…’
‘Have you?’ Ian sounded surprised.
‘I saw what I thought was a woman in the garden under the moonlight. She was standing by the well, her arms raised. She was just a shadow…’
Ian laughed. ‘That was probably Lesley, sleepwalking.’
Lesley shot him a look, unamused, then Claire whispered, ‘Is she the woman in the painting you’ve done? The woman beneath the moon?’
‘Yes, I painted what I saw,’ Selena said softly and there was silence for a while, everyone lost in their own thoughts. The sky was dark now, starless, smudged with grey clouds. A chill had settled on the air. Then, from the distance, there was a low yelp, another, a muffled screech.
Claire sat up straight. ‘What was that noise?’
Jonathan smiled, his eyes sparkling, still the storyteller. ‘The witch knows we’re speaking about her – it was probably Old Mother Cotter screaming from the bushes.’
Claire’s eyes widened and Laura said quietly, ‘Stop it, Jonathan. You’ll frighten people. Selena and Claire have to sleep here.’
Then it came again, a distant cry, desolate and soulless.
Claire reached for Selena’s hand. ‘Did you hear it?’
Everyone listened intently, then Matty said, ‘It’s just a fox barking.’
Joely shook her head. ‘That’s not a vixen – it’s past mating season…’
‘It’s a dog fox – they often scream at each other as a territory warning.’ Matty winked at Selena. ‘Most things usually have a down-to-earth explanation. It’s just nature.’
‘That makes sense,’ Selena replied.
Laura looked anxious, her eyes wide behind her glasses. ‘Are you sure, Matty?’
‘He’s right – it’s a fox,’ Lesley agreed. ‘They’ll have cubs now. They are very active at night. If we’re upwind of them, they stray into our garden sometimes…’
The fox barked again, an eerie yell from a field beyond the garden, and Joely smiled. ‘There, it’s just a fox. Nothing to worry about.’
Selena met her eyes. ‘Claire and I will be fine.’
Claire was still nervous. ‘I’ll have some more wine though.’
Rob stood up. ‘There’s plenty of food left on the barbie. Who’s for seconds?’
‘I am.’ Ian and Jonathan said together.
‘I’ll have a small helping, Dad, please.’ Laura watched as her father began serving food from the smoking coals.
Selena leaned over to Claire. ‘Are you all right with all this talk of ghosts?’
‘I’m fine,’ Claire offered a brave smile. ‘Since that weird episode in the spare bedroom, everything has been perfect. And we are okay, sharing the same bed – I feel much safer with you around. Besides, I’m going back to Manchester the day after tomorrow.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘I’ll be able to tell Gulliver all about the excitement.’
Selena smiled and sipped the last mouthful of wine in her glass.
Laura asked everyone if they had any plans for June. It was already the second of the month, and she had heard on the television that a heatwave had been forecast. Joely suggested that everyone should come up to their field for a huge barbecue soon and Jonathan grumbled that his wife, Katie, intended to drag the family to the Costa Del Sol once the schools broke up, and that he’d prefer living with the ghost anytime to a holiday with his three females. Matty changed the conversation, opening a bottle of Joely’s elderflower champagne, filling glasses. Contented chatter and laughter rippled.
The group ate, drank and talked together, their voices rising on the night air, as the smoke from the barbecue coiled towards the sky. No one noticed the outline of a woman framed in the window of the downstairs room, her fingers against the glass, watching them. Then she was gone.