Selena and Nick held hands as they walked down the lane from Chitterwell to Ashcombe in the sunshine. Selena was thinking about the photograph she had taken of the blackthorn tree. ‘I’m going to finish the painting properly next week,’ she said as they strolled along in step. ‘It will be really powerful, with the misty shape of a woman hiding in the branches, as if she belongs there.’
‘I’m looking forward to seeing it,’ Nick replied with a smile.
‘My journey here as an artist has been incredible – from the first picture of the back garden in springtime, bluebells, tulips and daffodils, and the field behind it, to the ghostly pictures I’m doing now. Grace Cotter has become so much part of my stay at Sloe Cottage.’
Nick was quiet for a moment, then he said, ‘I hope you’ve enjoyed your time here.’
‘Oh, I have,’ Selena said, wondering how to convey to Nick that he was important to her too: she was not ready to leave him.
She was about to say that she might ask Lesley if she could extend her stay, when Nick said, ‘I had an interesting chat with my mother at Hilltop this morning. She’s thinking of putting Sloe Cottage on the market.’
‘Oh?’ Selena felt strangely disappointed: she imagined the cottage belonging to new people, being repainted, extended again and changed, the character altered. Thoughts of the ghost troubled her: she was almost accustomed to Grace’s presence and she wondered what would happen to her if new tenants arrived. Selena couldn’t afford to buy the house herself. She offered a sad face. ‘Why does she want to sell?’
‘It’s never really been a source of much income and I suppose, now my parents are retired, the money would come in useful and they don’t want the bother of renting it. Besides,’ he squeezed Selena’s hand, ‘Mum’s been in denial about the ghost for so long and you’ve convinced her that there is some sort of presence there, so I expect she’d be glad to let someone else take it on.’
‘So she’s going to sell it, ghost and all?’ Selena joked, then she became serious. ‘I often think of Grace now – I imagine her walking along this road before the place was called Chitterwell, going into Ashcombe, just as we are now. I wonder what she used to do, where she used to go?’
‘It was a farm labourer’s cottage all those years ago. She or her parents would have worked at Hilltop Farm.’
‘I think about her living there – her hands would have touched the same walls that I touch, the same door; her feet would have trod the same paths.’ Selena thought about her words: she was learning to understand Grace. It was as if there was a connection between them.
‘Without the tarmac,’ Nick grinned. ‘I expect it was a dirt track in the seventeenth century.’
‘And they’d have had no bathroom or toilet in the cottage – I wonder how they washed clothes?’ Selena’s eyes widened. ‘And no kitchen. They must have lived and cooked in one room, just using the fireplace.’
‘It’s hard to imagine the poverty,’ Nick said. ‘It will be good to find out more about the Cotters. I bet they have some stories to tell.’
‘Do you think she married, had children?’
‘Most women did…’ Nick met her eyes. ‘It was a hard time then to be a woman, or to be poor.’
‘And what if she was really a witch? What then?’
‘Accusations of witchcraft were the go-to forms of misogyny and prejudice in those days. Women were persecuted for being too young, too old, too attractive, too lonely, a little bit different – one whisper of a problem in a community and people were calling some poor unfortunate woman a witch.’
‘People can be unkind, full of hatred.’ Selena felt concerned, desperate to know what had become of Grace. ‘Things haven’t changed all that much, have they?’
‘Not enough,’ Nick said.
They had arrived at the cottage. Laura answered the door in shorts and a stripy top, her lilac hair pinned up.
‘Come in, come in. My dad’s on his way back now.’ She ushered Nick and Selena into the garden, where a jug of sparkling water and four glasses had been set on the table. ‘He popped into Taunton – he’d ordered a specialist book from the library on Roman Britain and it’s just come in.’ Laura turned to Nick and held out her hand. ‘Long time, no see – I don’t think we’ve met since New Year’s Eve in The Royal Oak.’
He grinned. ‘I remember that being a night of singing and Badger Spit…’
‘It certainly was – I had a terrible hangover the next day,’ Laura trilled. ‘So, my dad will turn up at any moment, then we’ll eat out here, if that’s okay. He’s so excited to tell you all about the parish register and what he’s learned. He’s spent ages writing all the notes down for you – I don’t know why he did. We have a printer.’ She laughed.
Nick accepted a glass of water. ‘I’m looking forward to hearing about it. Selena and I found some artefacts in the roof and they seem to have given us some more clues.’
‘Oh,’ Selena jumped as her phone rang in her pocket. She tugged it out. ‘It’s Claire. Sorry – I’d better take this.’
Claire’s voice was clear in her ear. ‘Selena. I’m in the gallery. Is this a good time?’
‘It’s fine. How can I help?’
‘I’ve just had a visitor – someone who’s looking for you, who wants to talk to you. I think you should hear what she has to say.’
‘Oh, all right, if you think so.’
There was a pause while Claire passed her phone over. Then a crisp voice said, ‘Hello, Selena. It’s Veronica Marsh.’
Selena froze. She had no idea why David’s wife – his estranged wife – would ring her or why Claire would agree to her using her phone. She took a breath. ‘How can I help you, Veronica?’
‘I understand David came to see you recently?’
‘Yes.’ Selena listened hard to Veronica’s tone, trying to gauge her mood. She seemed matter-of-fact, determined, although her voice wobbled slightly.
‘I threw him out. I suppose he came to you to ask you to take him back? I expect he said he’d left me.’
‘He did.’
Veronica exhaled sadly. ‘He’s not a good man, Selena. I wanted to apologise to you. I came to see you in Ariel Art, but your colleague said you were away on holiday. I hope you’re all right.’
‘Yes, I am, thanks.’ Selena’s voice was hushed.
‘I’m glad. David and I were together for seven years. He had an affair with another woman before he met you, and he lied to me about that too. He told me you were stalking him and I was a fool to believe him. He has form. I had it out with him and he told me the truth, or his skewed version of it.’
‘Ah, I’m sorry…’ Selena said. Her heart went out to Veronica: she too had suffered at his hands.
‘I feel terrible about phoning you before. I was desperate to find out what happened between you when he told me you’d been chasing him. Of course, my instincts told me there was more to it than just you being fixated. I so badly needed to talk to you, to convince myself that David was telling the truth and that my marriage would be all right, to find some real answers. I suppose I wanted to blame you and believe him. But in my heart, I think I really knew…’
Selena was filled with regret: she and Veronica had so much in common and their pain might have been lessened if they had talked to each other earlier. ‘I should have spoken to you – but I was just too hurt…’
‘And I know why now – he told me about the miscarriage. He had to rub it in, just to prove his virility and to hurt me again. Of course, I’d already told him to leave – he just threw that one into the mix as a final blow. But I am well rid of him now.’ There was a pause, then Veronica’s voice was a whisper. ‘I’m so sorry about the baby…’
Selena nodded, feeling the familiar ache return once more. She took a breath, wondering what to say, how to articulate the new connection she felt with David’s ex, how she profoundly hoped that Veronica would heal and move on. ‘I’m glad you’re all right now…’
Veronica’s voice increased in volume. ‘I’m a survivor. I’m having some counselling, but I’ll move on in time. It’s just annoying that I’ve wasted seven years of my life on him…’
‘And I’m so sorry about what I did,’ Selena said. ‘I really didn’t intend to hurt you. I was so wrong…’
‘Thanks, that means a lot,’ Veronica replied, her voice quiet now. ‘Although I know how persuasive David can be. And, do you know, he took pride in telling me that you didn’t even know that I existed for the first few months – he thinks women are putty in his hands. But I don’t intend to let that become an issue. I have my own life now.’
Selena could tell that Veronica was swallowing tears, so she said, ‘I hope you can move forward soon.’
There was a crack in Veronica’s voice. ‘I will do, especially now I’ve spoken to you. And perhaps, you know, when you’re back in Manchester, I can come into the gallery and buy one of your paintings, by way of an apology and to find some closure.’ She gulped, steeling herself. ‘He hurt me.’
‘He hurt me too,’ Selena replied. ‘But that’s all in the past.’
‘I won’t see him again. I have a solicitor taking care of everything.’ Veronica sounded bitter. ‘I can’t even look at him now, after all his lies and deceit. But I wanted to speak to you, and Claire very kindly let me use her phone.’
Selena closed her eyes; a feeling of relief had swept over her. ‘Thanks for phoning me – I’m so glad to know that you and I can put all the negativity behind us.’
‘David wasn’t worth it. We’re better off, both of us.’
‘We are.’ Selena smiled. ‘Good luck with everything, Veronica.’
‘The same to you.’ Veronica sounded like she was smiling too, her voice was more cheerful. ‘And I meant what I said about the painting. I’ll pop into the gallery sometime…’
‘That would be nice. Thank you.’
‘Goodbye.’
Selena heard the phone click at the other end, and she turned to Nick and Laura, a smile on her lips. She suddenly felt lighter, as if a weight had been taken from her shoulders. ‘That was Veronica, David’s ex-wife. I think we’ve made peace.’
‘Perfect timing,’ Laura said. ‘Dad’s here – and the gluten-free tortellini is ready – if I haven’t burned the pesto sauce…’
After lunch, Rob led the way to the small room he used as his study, and Selena, Nick and Laura crowded around his desk. Rob’s expression was serious. ‘I think I’ve got to the bottom of the Cotter family. I’ve written it all down so that you can take the notes away with you.’
‘Thank you.’ Selena’s heartbeat had started to quicken with excitement.
‘So, tell us everything,’ Laura enthused.
Rob took a deep breath. ‘Well, it seems that Ashcombe was a small place in the sixteen hundreds – the same family names keep cropping up – Stokes, Bryant, Shears, Barnes, White, Harper. Your parents’ farm, Nick, belonged to the Harpers. Look at this – when the Cotter family lived in Slaugh Cottage, that’s William, Anne, and their daughter, Grace, who was born in 1660, a Joseph Harper owned the farm with his wife, Harriet. They had five children, all boys, four of whom died at birth or in infancy and another, Nathaniel, who died in 1683 and left only one child. His wife was Alice Bryant and, if you look at the notes, you’ll find there are a lot of families called Bryant. Nancy Bryant married a George Shears – he must be the ancestor of Jonathan Shears, our local chimney sweep.’
‘Oh, how interesting,’ Laura clapped her hands. ‘What happened to George Shears?’
‘He moved into Slaugh Cottage in 1684 and died in 1692 of typhus. But not before he’d fathered six children with Nancy, all but one of them dying at birth or in infancy. Look – the first one, Agnes, born 1683, died 1684, typhus. And the others… Mabel, Thomasin, Peter, Stephen. Only George junior survived to have a family of his own. Poor Mrs Shears.’
‘That’s horrible,’ Selena whispered, reaching for Nick’s hand.
‘His brother was somewhat luckier,’ Rob traced the page with his finger. ‘Edward Shears, known as Ned, born 1658, died 1736. He lived until a ripe old age – but he never married.’
‘I wonder why?’ Laura said. ‘There must be so many stories behind these names…’
‘And this is interesting – Anne Cotter’s mother, Grace’s grandmother, Elizabeth White. She had three children, but only the last one, Anne, survived. And she lived a long time, old Mrs White – she was born in 1621 and died in 1702. She lived to be eighty-one.’
‘That’s impressive for those days,’ Nick said. ‘She must have been a tough old lady.’
‘And the Harpers – they seemed to have a great deal of bad luck. Joseph and Harriet Harper both died in 1684 of typhoid fever; Alice Harper, Nathaniel’s wife, was a widow, she lived on until 1703. Her son must have been twenty when he took over the farm.’ Rob turned a page. ‘Gabriel Harper did very well for himself though. He married a Catherine Stokes, born 1683, and from 1706 they went on to have six children. Remarkably, they all survived, which is rare for those days. They must have been blessed…’
Nick leaned forward. ‘And what of the Cotters?’
‘William Cotter died in 1684. He suffered a heart attack while he was working in the fields.’
‘And Grace?’ Selena asked. ‘I’m desperate to find out what you know of her. I’m sure it’s Grace who is the presence in Sloe Cottage. And given the artefacts that Nick and I discovered in the roof space, it’s going to be so interesting to uncover her story.’
‘Grace Anne Cotter,’ Rob said, reading his notes. ‘Daughter of William and Anne. It seems she was a farm worker, first a weeding woman and then a milkmaid. She lived in the cottage after her mother died, so I suppose she must have looked after her father as well.’
‘Imagine,’ Laura shuddered. ‘Working all day and then cooking and cleaning and tending house, and at such a young age.’
‘Her story gets more interesting, though.’ Rob turned to look at Selena. ‘She died in 1683. She was just twenty-three years old.’
‘Poor thing.’ Selena squeezed Nick’s hand. ‘Was she ill?’
‘No.’ Rob paused. ‘There’s quite a bit about her here in an old document, the things she was accused of doing. It seems that she could change shape, assume the form of a hare, and she could curse people, too.’
‘Grace?’ Selena felt suddenly cold. ‘Surely not.’
‘That ties in with the things in the box that we found in the loft,’ Nick exchanged glances with Selena.
‘I just feel a deep sadness from her,’ Selena protested. ‘She’s not evil.’
‘Well, I can see why there might be a restless spirit at Sloe Cottage.’ Rob was quiet for a moment. ‘It appears that our Grace Cotter was, allegedly, a witch.’