Eleanor rarely felt afraid during the nights that Matthew was away. Used to dealing with all kinds of situations for much of her adult life, little fazes her. Orphaned at seventeen by a car accident, she had been poised to join the air force and without family to rely upon, the services had become home and family in one swoop. She had chosen to specialise in nursing on completion of her basic training and had been lucky enough to serve overseas before being stationed in England.
Eleanor felt at home now that she was settled in the manor house. It was as if Falconworth knew her. As if she belonged. It helped that the site manager and one or two of the other workers stayed on site twenty-four-seven, housed in the cluster of mobile homes and huts temporarily dotted around the grounds. Eleanor had reservations about Eddie, the site manager, nothing she could put her finger on, just something, a feeling outside her periphery.
Eleanor’s research had taken her far deeper into the manor’s history than she needed for the website, but she was fired with a thirst for knowledge and excited about her discoveries. She had pencilled in the following morning at the local church, to follow up on a lead she’d discovered in the Parish Records. Apparently, Falconworth had been used as a hospital during the 1940s and early 1950s. Eleanor had nursed patients with TB, it had become antibiotic resistant in recent years but usually responded to modern intervention. In the period she’d unearthed, treatment was haphazard and experimental, the mortality rate high.
One of the former patients fascinated Eleanor, her grave in the small churchyard was well tended, and Eleanor discovered that a relative still lived in the village. Having written a short note, she intended to pop over and drop it in by hand.
oOo
The gate of the mid-terrace cottage creaked a little on its hinges. Eleanor turned and hooked it closed behind her and walked up the short path to the front door. Panelled wood shone and bristled with brass furniture, the stone step gleamed. Evidence of a house-proud occupant. Neat borders on either side of the pathway stood barren, awaiting fresh planting. “I’ll bet they look glorious in full bloom,” muttered Eleanor as she lifted the letterbox to deliver the note.
Suddenly, the door swung open, surprising both Eleanor and the woman who had been about to emerge.
“Oh, my, you gave me such a fright,” said the woman, clutching at her collar.
“I’m so sorry,” said Eleanor, “I just wanted to leave this note.”
“Oh?” The woman had collected herself and stood squarely in the doorway, though her slight figure hardly filled the space. Her dark coat and hat gave her an austerity which in spite of her lack of height was intimidating.
“I’m Eleanor Grant.” She offered her hand.
“Oh, yes. You’ll be the new missus up at the house.”
“Yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“No harm done, I have an appointment, or I’d ask you in for a cup of tea.” The woman pocketed the note. “I’m Nora Joyce, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“It’s lovely to meet you. Perhaps we could have that cup of tea another time?” said Eleanor
“Yes, perhaps.”
“Are you going to the village? Will you walk with me as far as the manor?” Eleanor smiled again and the women set off back the way she had come.
“Shall we have that tea tomorrow? Same time?”
“That would be lovely, yes, Mrs Joyce,” replied Eleanor.
“Call me Nora. I’ll see you tomorrow, goodbye for now,” said the woman, leaving Eleanor at the gates of the manor.
That night Eleanor didn’t sleep well. Fitful, she counted the hours and minutes until daybreak. As the days grew ever shorter and the hours of darkness lengthened, lonely nights and Matthew’s absence seemed to stretch in front of her. The pinpoint of his return grew distant. Smaller and smaller until it was so miniscule, she couldn’t make out where the darkness ended. Finally, in the hour before dawn, the realisation that work at Falconworth neared completion and the order of the manor would soon settle into a quieter routine, everything would still to a leisurely pace. Falconworth’s grand opening was scheduled for New Year’s Eve, and Eleanor’s excitement at the thought of Christmas alone at Falconworth with Matthew seeped into her cells.