House of Echoes. Barbara Erskine

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      ‘I don’t believe it. Things like that don’t happen in real life.’ Lyn Davies was sitting opposite her adoptive sister at the small kitchen table, her eyes round with envy.

      Joss reached down to Tom, sitting playing by her feet and hoisted him onto her knee. ‘I can’t believe it’s true either. I have to keep pinching myself. It makes up for losing this.’ She glanced round her at the little kitchen.

      ‘I’ll say. Talk about falling on your feet!’ Lyn scowled. ‘Have you told Mum and Dad about all this?’ Two years younger than Joss, she had been conceived after Joss’s adoption, five years after Alice had been told she could never have a child of her own. Totally unlike Joss to look at – she was squarely built, had short, curly blond hair and deep grey eyes. Nobody ever had taken them for sisters.

      Joss nodded. ‘I rang last night. They think it’s like a fairy story. You know, Mum was so worried I’d be disappointed when I wanted to look for my real parents; but she was so good about it.’ She glanced at Lyn. ‘She didn’t mind.’

      ‘Of course she minded!’ Lyn reached for the pot and poured herself another mug of thick black coffee. ‘She was desperately unhappy about it. She was frightened you might find another family and forget her and Dad.’

      Joss was shocked. ‘She wasn’t! She can’t have believed that.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘She didn’t feel that at all. You’re stirring again, Lyn. I wish you wouldn’t.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Look, are you sure you want Tom tomorrow?’ She hugged the little boy close. ‘Luke and I can take him with us –’

      Lyn shook her head. ‘No. I’ll have him. He’ll only get in your way while you’re measuring for curtains or whatever.’ Catching sight of Joss’s face she scowled again. ‘All right, sorry. I didn’t mean it. I know you can’t afford curtains. Go on, you and Luke go and enjoy your day out. It will do him good to get away from all this mess with H & G. Mum and I will love having Tom!’

      Luke drove, his handsome square face haggard with worry and loss of sleep. For a second Joss reached over and touched his hand. ‘Cheer up. You’re going to love it.’

      ‘Am I?’ He turned to her and finally he grinned. ‘Yes, you’re right, I am. If the roof keeps most of the rain out and there is a garden big enough to grow vegetables in, I’m going to love it. I don’t care what it looks like.’

      The last week had been a nightmare of solicitors, bank managers and police investigators. Meetings with them and with creditors and accountants had filled Luke’s every waking hour as he watched the small engineering company which had been his whole life being taken apart and put under the microscope. They were not to be bankrupted at least. But it was no comfort to know that Barry Henderson was being sought by Interpol. The sour taste Barry’s betrayal had left in his mouth and the inevitable loss of the mews cottage had detracted badly from his pleasure in Joss’s windfall. And from the relief he felt when he realised that for the time at least they would have a roof, however leaky, over their heads whilst they decided what to do with the rest of their lives.

      They pulled up at last outside the village shop. ‘Are you going to introduce yourself?’ Luke smiled at her. ‘The new lady of the manor.’

      Joss shrugged. ‘What do I say?’

      ‘Tell them the truth. You’ve got to tell them, Joss. They are the post office. They’ll be delivering mail pretty soon. Go on. Give the village something to gossip about.’ He swung himself out of the car.

      The wind was icy, worrying the branches of the ash tree which grew at the road junction opposite like an angry dog, tearing off the remaining leaves. Joss followed him, turning up the collar of her jacket with a shudder as the wind tore at her hair and whipped it into her eyes.

      The shop was empty. They stood looking round, savouring the mixed smells of cheese and ham and exotic smoked sausages and the silence after the wind. Moments later the post mistress appeared from a doorway at the back of the counter. She was carrying a cup of coffee. ‘Hello, my dears. How can I help you?’ She set the cup down. Then she peered at Joss. ‘Of course, you were in here the other day, asking about the Hall. Did you manage to find Mary Sutton?’

      Joss shook her head. ‘There was no one there when I knocked but I met the vicar up at the church and he gave me the address of his predecessor who knew the Duncans.’

      ‘I see.’ The woman put her head on one side. ‘You’ve some special interest in the Hall, have you?’ Her eyes were bright with curiosity.

      Joss heard Luke chuckle. She trod heavily on his toe. Smiling, she held out her hand. ‘Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Joss Grant – this is my husband, Luke. It looks as though we are going to be living there, at least for a while. Laura and Philip Duncan were my parents. They gave me up for adoption when I was a baby, but it appears that they left the house to me.’

      The woman’s mouth dropped open. ‘Well I never! Oh, my dear! That great place!’ Far from being pleased as Joss expected, she appeared to be horrified. ‘You’re never going to live there! You couldn’t possibly.’

      Taken aback, Joss frowned. ‘Why on earth not? It didn’t look to me as though it was in too bad condition.’

      ‘Oh, I didn’t mean that.’ The woman was immediately embarrassed. ‘Take no notice of me! It’s a lovely place. You are very lucky. The village will be pleased. The Hall has been empty too long. Much too long.’ She shook her head. ‘There’s me forgetting my manners. I’m Sally Fairchild. My husband Alan is the post master here; I’m the deli counter.’ She laughed. ‘Alan retired from his accountancy five years back and we thought we’d take over a village shop in our declining years. Thought it would be a nice restful job. Haven’t had time to sit down since …’

      Luke looked across at Joss as they settled themselves back into the car. On the back seat there was a box of supplies – enough for an army for three days at least, Luke had said with a smile, as they selected a picnic for themselves from Sally Fairchild’s luxurious counter. ‘So. What do you make of all that?’

      Joss reached for her seatbelt. ‘Nice woman. I had the feeling though, that whatever she said about the village being pleased, they wouldn’t be.’

      Glancing СКАЧАТЬ