Page 82 of The Sisters at the Last House Before the Sea

‘Actually,’ said Isla, as Maisie perched on the arm of a faded sofa. ‘If you don’t mind, I was hoping to ask you about an ancestor of mine. Maisie said you remembered her.’

‘Who’s that then?’

‘A lady called Edith, Edith Anstey. She was Jessie’s aunt, so my great-great-aunt.’

Connie regarded her coolly. ‘What’s so interesting about her after all these years?’

‘It’s a bit complicated, but Jessie loved crosswords and riddles, and she left me and my sister a riddle to work out after her death.’

‘What does the riddle say?’ asked Connie, taking a big slurp of her drink.

‘It says: Don’t get in a spin, girls, though mistakes can cost you dear. This one brings good fortune and, I hope, will make you cheer.’

‘That makes no sense whatsoever.’

‘Not yet, but we’re hoping we can solve it with the help of an old letter she left us too. It was written to Edith in 1919. That’s why I’d like to find out more about her.’

Connie put her mug down on the table and sat, without moving, staring across the room. Isla followed her gaze but there was nothing there. After a while, she glanced at Maisie, who mouthed ‘let’s go’.

‘Edith was nice, by all accounts,’ said Connie suddenly, making both Isla and Maisie jump. ‘That’s what my mother told me when I was a child, and she didn’t like many people. Edith was one of the only people in the village to speak to her – kind and not judgemental, like her niece, Jessie. I know my mother was upset when she died. She told me.’

‘Edith died in 1922, which must have been before you were born. Do you know why your mum was still mentioning her years later?’

‘Because of the way she died, of course. Frozen to death on the moors. My mother told me about her as a warning so I wouldn’t wander off too far. I always was a headstrong child and my mother was terrified I’d come to harm. It’s funny, really – I can’t remember what happened yesterday and yet the past feels as if it’s still happening around me.’

Isla felt a shiver run down her back in this house full of Connie’s ghosts.

‘Do you know how Edith came to die of exposure on Dartmoor? Did your mother ever tell you that?’

‘All she said was poor Edith Anstey was too sad for this world. Mourning the loss of a lover and waiting for a letter that never came. A letter that never came,’ she repeated in a sing-song voice, sounding like a child, as a black cat jumped into her lap.

‘Was the letter from a man called William?’

‘The only William I know is the old fisherman who lives by the lifeboat station. Keeps ferrets, and a mistress in Exeter.’

Out of the corner of her eye, Isla saw Maisie frown at this random information.

‘William is the man who wrote the letter to Edith in 1919 that I mentioned a minute ago. He wanted to marry Edith and take her back with him to America.’

‘America?’ Connie sucked air through the gaps in her teeth. ‘That’s even farther than London. I wouldn’t like that.’ She thought for a moment, her fingers raking through the cat’s fur. ‘Did you say 1919? That’s when the Spanish flu hit Heaven’s Cove. It was the flu that did for my older sister. I never met her, of course. Wasn’t born yet.’

‘That’s terrible,’ piped up Maisie. ‘We learned about the Spanish flu at school. It killed, like, millions of people.’

‘Several of ’em around here, sadly. And TB got my older brother when I was only small. My mother was never the same after that.’

Maisie leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. ‘So your sister and your brother both died when they were kids? That’s literally so sad.’

‘You youngsters don’t know how good you’ve got it. Life was harsh back then.’

‘Do you think the flu epidemic might have been the reason why Edith didn’t go with William to America?’ asked Isla, her mind full of what-ifs and maybes.

‘How am I supposed to know? I’ve told you everything I can remember from those days.’

When Connie blinked, lost in the past, Isla shivered. It was cold in here. The grate lay blackened and empty, with only a small pile of logs next to it.

‘Aren’t you chilly in here?’ she asked gently.

‘No,’ said Connie, sticking out her chin. ‘If I get cold I can make a fire.’

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