The sun was already sucking the dew from the damp grass as Joely piled pancakes onto plates outside the caravan and Matty poured coffee. Rob was gazing around at the view; Laura was halfway though her first pancake.
‘These are amazing, Joely – the berries are gorgeous. Did you forage them in the forest?’
‘They came from the supermarket,’ Joely grinned. ‘Raspberries, blueberries, and I have strawberries in the fridge if you want some.’
‘Yes, please,’ Laura licked her lips.
Nick leaned towards Selena and took her hand, his voice a whisper. ‘Are you okay? You’re a bit quiet.’
‘Oh, am I? Sorry.’ Selena brightened immediately. She gazed at the faces around the table and reached for her coffee. ‘I think I saw the ghost this morning – well, I saw something, definitely.’
‘My goodness.’ Laura frowned. ‘What happened?’
‘I told Nick – I heard something in my bedroom – it woke me. But there was nothing there. Then I looked into the spare room and I saw a figure, I was sure something moved and I heard a sound like a sob.’
Laura’s eyes were wide behind her glasses. ‘I’d have been terrified.’
‘Then, later on, a vase fell over in the sitting room…’ Nick said. ‘It might have been the wind…’
Selena shook her head. ‘I don’t think it was.’
‘How can you live in that place, Selena?’ Laura asked.
‘It was easy at first because I was focused on work, but I have to admit, I’ve been a bit rattled a couple of times more recently…’ She squeezed Nick’s fingers. ‘I think I understand our ghost a little better now, but it’s nicer when I’m not on my own.’
Matty frowned. ‘What do your parents think of it all, Nick? It’s their cottage.’
‘My father is quite amused by the stories. My mum has always turned a blind eye to anything supernatural – she’s quite a down-to-earth person and she doesn’t believe in ghosts.’ Nick shrugged. ‘But she’s considering selling Sloe Cottage now.’
‘Really?’ Joely’s eyes sparkled. ‘It’s a shame we can’t buy it, Matty – I’d love to live there. The garden and the herbs – the view across to the farm. It’s lovely.’
‘There’s no way I’d live there,’ Matty laughed, then he was serious. ‘I’m not too bothered about ghosts, but I like the independence of our caravan and the field. I couldn’t stand being stuck inside four walls.’
‘I’ve considered making her an offer, buying it myself.’ Nick was thoughtful.
‘It would be a shame if it became someone’s holiday cottage,’ Selena sighed. ‘Although that’s what it is at the moment. But it’s so warm and cosy, especially the newer part. It could be a wonderful family home. It’s the old part that the ghost tends to visit mostly.’ She thought for a moment. ‘When I saw the figure in the spare room this morning, I think that’s the most afraid I’ve ever felt in the house. And up on the hill this morning – I couldn’t get her out of my mind.’
‘Well, it does make sense, after all,’ Rob said. ‘It was today that it happened.’
‘Today that what happened, Dad?’ Laura squeezed his arm.
‘I read it yesterday in the records. Grace Cotter died on June the twenty-first, 1683.’
No one spoke for a moment, then Laura breathed, ‘Oh, my goodness.’
Nick took Selena’s hand. ‘Perhaps that explains what you heard in the bedroom earlier, the sobs…’
‘Where is Grace now, Rob?’ Selena sat forward, tears in her eyes. ‘Where is she buried? I want to visit her grave. Today of all days.’
Rob shook his head. ‘There won’t be a trace of her. Corpses in those days were interred without coffins, wrapped in linen, and their graves seldom had headstones. I can research the records if you like. I’ve kept a file and I can access it from my phone.’
‘Please…’ Selena wiped a tear away. ‘Poor Grace.’
‘I think it’s awful, how she was treated,’ Joely said. ‘No wonder her spirit can’t rest. It just isn’t fair, is it, the way society has always blamed innocent women…’
‘Wait…’ Rob raised his phone. ‘Here’s something.’
They all leaned towards Rob as he began to read, ‘Grace Cotter’s body was buried in the farthest corner of the churchyard. No prayers or obsequies were given. A stone was positioned on top of the grave for fear the witch would rise and return…’
‘What does that mean?’ Matty asked.
Rob pressed his lips together. ‘It means that we should be able to find the spot if it’s marked by an old stone. If it hasn’t been moved, we’ll see the exact place where she would have been laid to rest.’
‘Or not resting…’ Selena said. ‘Can we go there as soon as we’ve finished breakfast? I want to put some flowers on her grave.’
Joely and Laura had helped Selena gather some wild flowers from the fields and some from the garden just beyond the caravan. As she stood outside the churchyard of St Bartholomew’s, she clutched a bouquet of daisies, buttercups, sweet peas, echinacea, roses, poppies and some lavender.
Selena inhaled the heady fragrance as Nick pressed her arm. ‘I’m sure she’ll love them.’
‘Right,’ Rob waved an arm. ‘I think I know the place we’re going to – it’s at the far side of the cemetery.’
He led the way as Selena followed in silence, Laura and Nick at her shoulder, Matty and Joely just behind. They were a silent procession as they trooped through the long graveyard; despite the intense sunlight, the air was sharp and cool. They passed rows of graves, some bent over at odd angles, many discoloured by lichen. A crow sat on top of an arched stone, wings stretched, cleaning oily feathers with a dark beak. Rob led them beyond a leaning willow, its leaves sweeping the ground, then they passed beneath an arch over a gate.
‘This is the farthest part of the graveyard, and certainly the oldest,’ he murmured.
Selena shivered.
Rob pointed to the far corner, a dark shadowy place beneath a crumbling wall where the grass grew tall and unkempt. ‘That’s where I think she is.’
Selena followed Rob, hugging the flowers; the others trailed behind. The ground was rocky and unforgiving, full of sharp stones and weeds. The path ended; they stepped over broken gravestones and grassy mounds, stopping in the cold corner beneath the broken stone wall.
Rob knelt down next to a large rock. ‘This will be the place.’
‘How can you be sure?’
Rob sighed. ‘She was allowed no prayers, Selena, no proper funeral because she was a…’ He paused, not wishing to say the word in a churchyard. ‘This rock is heavy. It was placed on top of where her body would have been. Superstitious people were afraid that she might come back.’
‘Perhaps she did come back, in her own way.’ Selena felt tears gather in her eyes again; one brimmed over, trickling down her cheek. Nick’s hand was on her shoulder and she knew that Joely, Matty and Laura were not far behind her. She lifted the flowers, about to place them on the stone, then she changed her mind; she would not put them on top of the heavy weight that had held her down. Instead, she arranged them around the stone, bright colours against the faded dry grass and hard-packed soil. She whispered, ‘I hope you find some peace, Grace.’ She gazed up and Rob nodded encouragement, so she added, ‘I hope you can rest now.’
Rob’s voice was hushed. ‘She was denied the Christian burial that would probably have meant so much to her, poor thing. Perhaps we should say something now, Laura? You’re used to these things, doing school assemblies and such.’
‘All right.’ Laura pressed her hands together and took a deep breath. ‘Let us pray,’
Selena clasped her hands and closed her eyes. An image of how Grace might have been in her last moments slipped into her mind: a terrified girl, a troubled spirit.
Laura spoke softly.
May Grace Cotter know peace.
For as long as the moon shall rise,
For as long as the rivers shall flow,
For as long as the sun shall shine,
For as long as the grass shall grow,
Let her know peace.
Selena whispered ‘Amen’ under her breath, stood up and sighed. Nick’s arm was around her and she was grateful for it; her legs were suddenly shaking.
Joely’s eyes shone. ‘That was so beautiful, Laura.’
‘It’s a Cheyenne prayer for peace,’ Laura whispered. ‘I just adapted it a bit…’
Rob’s voice was low. ‘I think we should do this every year, on Midsummer’s Day, put flowers on her grave and say a few words.’
‘We will.’ Laura hugged Selena, whispering in her ear, ‘I wish you weren’t leaving though…’
Selena nodded. There was a silence. Nick and Selena glanced at each other, then Matty said, ‘Well, I can’t stand around here all day. I have logs to chop.’
‘And I have some comfrey salve to make,’ Joely said.
Nick held out his hand, linking his fingers through Selena’s. ‘I have to be back at work later. We should go.’
‘Let’s all catch up in the pub on Friday night?’ Laura suggested, full of enthusiasm.
‘Definitely,’ Selena agreed and the group turned to walk back through the cemetery. Selena’s head was full of rushing thoughts; she was perturbed by the isolated, lonely location of Grace’s grave; the sense of sadness was still with her: Grace had been shunned, cast out for centuries. Nick’s hand in hers, Selena counted her blessings; she had so many friends, a wonderful career, a burgeoning relationship that promised so much; he had told her the depth of his feelings last night as they lay, limbs entwined, in her bed. And she realised, a sharp pang to her heart, that she did not want to leave.
Twenty minutes later, Selena and Nick stood outside Sloe Cottage gazing at the house. The garden was bright, colourful blooms nodding in the breeze, the house nestled against the backdrop of rising hills and farmland.
‘I love living here,’ Selena said.
‘I won’t let my mother sell it,’ Nick replied quietly.
‘It’s beautiful – and so full of memories. But it has a future too.’ She imagined the house as it could be, the sound of so much laughter, children playing in the garden, family outings, quiet bedtime stories and hugs. Selena sighed.
‘I have time for a cup of tea before I head off back to Exeter,’ Nick said hopefully.
‘Oh, that’s good.’ Selena did not want him to leave. ‘Shall we go in?’
The cottage was warm inside; the hall surprisingly so, with its hard stone walls that held the cold. In the sitting room, Selena paused and gazed at the wood-burning stove, the embers glowing. ‘I need to put a few more logs on.’
Nick kissed her. ‘I’ll make tea then.’
She watched him go towards the kitchen and again she was filled with the thought that she had just over a week left on her tenancy. She would have to rethink her plans, talk to Claire. Manchester was only five hours away: she wouldn’t have to be there all the time in order to sell her paintings and, if she was needed for an exhibition, she could drive from Somerset before breakfast and arrive at the gallery at lunchtime. Besides, Claire and Gulliver were becoming inseparable: Selena felt sure it wouldn’t be long until he would move in to the flat. And Lesley had said that she would extend the tenancy. Most importantly, she needed to talk to Nick now. She couldn’t imagine leaving him easily.
Selena knelt in front of the wood-burning stove, opening the iron doors, placing three small logs on the griddle and closing the handles. She watched through the glass panels as the logs caught, sparks flying up the chimney; flames leaped, licked and slackened. Then she exhaled slowly.
Nick was standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders. She sensed the light pressure, tender as love. He rested his cheek against her head gently, barely a touch, and Selena felt protected. She stayed where she was for a moment, not moving, relishing the sensation as her skin tingled, then she turned round to hold him in her arms.
He was not there.
A shadow, thin as mist, slipped away through the door, a slender shape so transparent that it was hardly visible. Selena was about to follow whatever she had seen into the hall when she heard the front door being flung wide, crashing as it hit the wall. The scent of lavender was all around.
Selena rushed towards the noise, standing in the doorway, looking out at the garden at the vibrant colours, the stone well and the oak tree at the end of the drive, branches outstretched. She gazed around for a moment, then she saw a small pale creature with elongated ears, a hare, sitting on the gravel not far away, staring at her, not moving. Selena met the intense eyes and they held for a moment, an exchange, then the hare hopped away on agile legs into a bush and it was gone.
‘Are you okay?’ Nick was behind her, whispering in her ear. ‘I’ve put the tea tray in front of the fire.’
‘Good.’ Selena took his hand and they walked back to the sitting room, curling up on the sofa, sitting quietly. She raised her nose to the air, and whispered, ‘Can you smell lavender?’
‘Yes,’ Nick said.
‘She was here with me – she was here and then she left.’
Nick met her gaze. ‘And something else – what is it? Something’s changed – something has shifted.’
‘The air feels lighter, warmer.’ Selena was quiet for a moment, then she murmured, ‘I think she’s gone.’
Nick nodded. ‘You may be right.’
‘Someone stood behind me, their arms around me – I thought it was you.’ Selena saw Nick’s expression, his eyes widening. ‘It must have been her – I just felt a wonderful peace, not sadness any more, just a sense of pure love. It was as if the house has been holding its breath for an age, and now it’s finally breathed out. I followed her out into the garden and there was no one there. Then I saw a hare – of course, it was only a hare – and it bounded away.’
‘Let’s go outside for a moment, shall we, while the tea brews?’ Nick suggested.
‘Yes, let’s.’ Selena walked into the garden, Nick at her shoulder, blinking in the sunlight, the spots of light against dark, the dappled grass. They walked towards the chattering well where Selena stopped, listening; there was the faint murmur of water bubbling from the depths.
‘I’m glad we placed flowers on her grave, and that Laura said the prayer,’ Selena murmured. ‘They buried her beneath a stone; she was trapped, shunned, despised. And what they did to her on the hill was unimaginable…’
‘She’s found peace…’ Nick said. ‘I hope she can rest. It’s time for new beginnings…’
‘New beginnings,’ Selena repeated. ‘Yes, it is.’
‘I want you to stay…’
‘I’ve already decided. I’m not going back to Manchester.’ Selena turned to face Nick, the trace of a smile on her lips. ‘I want to be here, with you.’
‘I’m so glad,’ Nick murmured. ‘This is home now.’
Selena rested her head against his shoulder. ‘It is.’
Nick wrapped an arm around her waist and they stood together, staring across the fields towards Hilltop Farm. Selena closed her eyes, her fingers touching the smooth stone pendant around her neck. She recalled the words of the woman on the market who sold it to her: malachite opens the heart to unconditional love. Selena smiled. ‘The sloes will come out in late autumn…’
But her thoughts were moving far beyond berries and seasons. She was thinking of the cottage that had stood for so many years, each inhabitant leaving their own delicate imprint, so many hands that had touched the walls, been warmed by the fire, held others in an embrace. Now it was her turn: Selena and Nick would make their own memories. She imagined the future, one year becoming another, the celebrations, the joy, the love. Their cottage would be filled with laughter and happiness. She smiled at the thought that she would name their first child Grace.
A light breeze, silent and sure as an outbreath, buffeted the blackthorn. The spiny branches touched the window three times, then the tree was still.