‘I saw them,’ she says. ‘You sound happy, Mum.’ She’s much softer than usual Maddie.
‘I am.’
‘That’s good, really good … Look, I don’t think we realised everything you did when you were here. Always being there when we needed you. I just … well, I just wanted to say thank you.’
I feel choked. ‘It’s fine,’ I say, not really knowing what to say. ‘I’m still here for you. I’m still Mum. I’m just finding out who Juliet is.’
‘I know. Enjoy. And if you’re not enjoying, come home,’ she says.
Our roles are reversed, it seems, making me laugh. ‘I will.’
Our eyes fill with tears and we look at each other through the blurry lens of the phone. Then Maddie sniffs and is back to her to-the-point self. ‘Okay, well, stay in touch.’
‘Of course!’ I say. ‘I’m having fun. I’m writing a to-do list!’
‘Love you,’ she says uncharacteristically.
‘And you, lovely. And Dad … because we’ll always be Mum and Dad even if we’re not living together any more. We’re just off on different journeys.’
‘I know. Bye, Mum.’
‘Bye, lovely,’ and we hang up.
I head for the stairs, feeling everything has fallen into place now that she understands why I’m here and why I needed to do this. Everything is working out as well as I could have hoped.
My stomach rumbles and I remember my bread and cheese and the glass of champagne, which I’m more than ready for now. I head downstairs to the kitchen area and actually take a little leap down the final step. Just as I do, the wooden trapdoor, leading to the cellar, rattles.
I jump back, a scream catching in my throat. I stare at it. Did I just imagine that? I’m sure that trapdoor just rattled as if something or someone was underneath it. It rattles again.
My heart is racing and I’m terrified. What on earth am I thinking? That this is some romantic story with a happy-ever-after? It’s an abandoned watermill, out of the village, with graffitied walls, etched by vandals. Anything could happen to me here. No wonder no one has bought the place. No one said it came with ghosts! Someone should have told me it had history.
I’m frozen to the spot. I can’t move. I can’t run past it. I can only stare at it. And then the trapdoor starts to lift.
Chapter 6
Ido the first thing I can think of and give it a really big kick so that it slams shut.
‘Awwwwwh!’ I hear a pained cry.
My heart is thundering and my hands are shaking. I’m too terrified to move.
As the trapdoor opens, I see a large hand push it all the way back so it falls flat on the floorboards with a bang. The hand moves around as if checking it’s safe for the rest of its body to come out. And it’s taking its time.
‘What the …?’ I’m being stupid. Of course it’s not a ghost. Ghosts aren’t real! But someone is under the floorboards of the mill. My mill.
‘Hello? Who’s there?’ I demand.
A figure starts to climb the steps from the cellar below.
‘Who are you? And what are you doing in the cellar?’ I say, as a head and shoulders turn to face me. I immediately recognise who they belong to. ‘You?’
‘You!’
We say it together.
He’s still rubbing the back of his head. ‘What did you do that for?’ He frowns, pushing back his hair with silver-ringed fingers.
‘What are you doing down there?’ And then, crosser, ‘And how did you get in?’
