“Her mother?”
“Rachel.”
“No.”
“Do you know anyone in this village?” she asked, and Dan’s expression hardened a little.
“I know Robin, the milkman. And Sue, who delivers the meat pies. Lucy Bagshaw. And you.” She saw a glint of challenge in his eyes, and he folded his arms repressively.
“I wasn’t meaning to sound rude, but...” She shrugged, not sure how to explain how odd it was that Dan was so reclusive. Although she was hardly one to talk. “Where did you live, before here?”
“Leeds.”
“Why did you move to Hartley-by-the-Sea?”
“What is this, an interrogation?” He fiddled with the Lotto card dispenser for a moment before answering. “The village shop was for sale, and I fancied trying my hand at running it.”
“But you don’t want to get to know people.”
“No. Do you?”
The blunt question surprised her. “Well, yes, sort of...”
“Because you don’t want to go to the pub quiz, and when Lucy Bagshaw corners you, asking you for coffee or what have you, you look like a frightened rabbit. Although come to think of it, you always look like a frightened rabbit.”
“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say in one stretch since I’ve known you,” Claire said. She was trying to joke, but she felt flayed by Dan’s flatly stated assessment. She had no idea he’d noticed so much. “I didn’t say it wasn’t hard,” she said after a pause. “I’ve been away a long time, and I’ve never been good at making friends.”
“Why not?”
“Now you’re the one interrogating me.”
“Shoe’s on the other foot, is it?”
“I guess it must be, since I only had enough money to buy one shoe.” She smiled, hoping he’d smile back, but he didn’t. “I don’t know why not. Why do you have trouble making friends?”
He looked affronted. “I never said I did.”
She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to.”
“I don’t want any friends,” Dan said after a moment. “They’re more trouble than they’re worth.” He nodded towards the milk and cheese she held in her hands. “Now, are you going to pay for that before the milk goes sour?”
Conversation clearly over, Claire paid up and then walked back to Four Gables. She was half amazed by what Dan had shared and more than a little unnerved by how much he’d noticed about her. Were they friends now? Maybe not quite. Maybe not at all.
A couple of hours later she headed up the street towards Rachel’s house, holding a foil-covered casserole dish of slightly soupy macaroni and cheese. The only time she’d been to Rachel’s house had been yesterday, when they’d picked her and Lily up for the hike. Now she stood on the concrete stoop, uncertain as to whether this was actually a good idea. Rachel might be annoyed that she’d come around, offering what she might consider pity. Maybe she’d turn up her nose at homemade mac and cheese.
Before she could contemplate beating a silent and cowardly retreat, the door jerked open and a woman stood there, hands planted on her hips. She looked a lot like Rachel, minus the height and the red hair.
“Well, well, well. Claire West.” A catlike smile curved her lips.
“Hi. You must be Rachel’s sister.”
“You don’t remember me from school?” Meghan raised her eyebrows, her smile widening.
“No, sorry.”
“It’s Meghan. I was four years younger than you. But I guess you were too cool to notice me.”
Not the cool-girl thing again. “I’m sure you were too cool for me,” Claire answered lightly. “Is Rachel in?”
