Page 46 of The Sisters at the Last House Before the Sea

‘You made it?’ Maisie studied the angel, carefully crafted out of driftwood: its wings unfurled and ready for flight, its face serene and loving.

‘Yeah, me. You sound surprised.’ Connie’s laugh sounded more like a cackle. ‘I was a teenager and your great-grandmother was a little kid – a good few years younger than me, admittedly – but I made it for her as a thank you for being kind. She was one of the only locals who’d smile at me in the village and say hello. My family weren’t much liked in Heaven’s Cove back then.’ She nodded at the angel resting in Maisie’s hand. ‘So, she kept it all these years.’

‘She said it was her protector.’

‘That’s nice. I hope it did a good job.’ Connie’s pale, beady eyes narrowed. ‘And she left it to you, then? She must have thought a lot of you.’

Maisie shifted uncomfortably. ‘I don’t know about that.’

‘Actions speak louder than words.’ Connie sank down on the sofa, next to the black cat, who stirred and stretched. ‘All right, Dolly?’ When she ran her hand across the cat’s belly, Maisie noticed that the old lady’s dress – a grey, nightie-like garment that added to the whole freaky vibe – was scattered with dark hairs.

‘Do you live out here on your own?’ Maisie asked, glancing out of the window at the swathes of white-cloaked countryside in every direction.Her curiosity about this unusual old lady was growing as her alarm at her manner and appearance faded.

‘Yeah, it’s just me. I like it out here on my own, with no one to bother me. I’ve lived here all my life and I’ll leave here in a box.’ The black cat got to its feet and padded across the sofa to reach Connie’s lap, where it curled itself into a ball, purring contentedly.

‘Dolly, here, keeps me company, don’t you, girl? And now you’ve brought food for Dolly and Petra over there, we’ll be right as ninepence ’til the snow goes.’

Her vowels were long and her consonants soft and Maisie decided she liked the Devonian burr which, contrary to Connie’s wild appearance, made her sound warm and comforting. Jessie’s accent, though noticeable, hadn’t been so pronounced.

‘Are you living in Heaven’s Cove?’ Connie squinted at Maisie, her eyes bright in her creviced face. ‘I don’t remember seeing you around.’

‘Me? No, I’m just staying for a little while. I’ll be going back to London soon.’

‘That’s a shame. I’ve been to London twice in my life, and hated it twice. Couldn’t wait to get back to the sea and plenty of peace and quiet. Here with your mother, are you?’

‘No.’

It’s none of your business. She’s thousands of miles away in Canada and I rarely see her, except on stupid FaceTime.

When Connie stared at her, without blinking, the back of Maisie’s neck began to prickle. Could the old lady read her mind?

‘I’m staying with my aunt. Well, she’s not really my aunt. She’s Jessie’s granddaughter, like my stepmum. But we’re definitely going home soon, when they stop stressing over a stupid old letter to some dead relative called Edith. It won’t be long.’

Maisie was babbling. She stopped talking and snapped her mouth shut. Connie was still staring, and Maisie could swear that she still hadn’t blinked.

‘Edith Anstey? My mother knew her,’ she said as the cat in her lap stretched and yawned. It seemed that Connie, in spite of living out in the wilds, knew a fair bit about people in Heaven’s Cove. Maybe she even knew the answer to that stupid riddle Caitlin and Isla were obsessed with.

There was a noise outside and Maisie glanced through the window. Freya, Ryan and Beth had walked around the back of the house and were unloading more tins from the truck. Beyond them, the land stretched towards the sea, which was a blur of grey on the horizon, below the bleached sky. In the far distance, almost farther than Maisie could see, a faint ribbon of smoke rose into the air from a farmhouse chimney.

She turned back to Connie. ‘Don’t you find it too quiet here?’

‘No but then it’s not always quiet. Sometimes the wind wraps round the house and moans, like banshees rising from the grave.’ She gave a gap-toothed grin at Maisie’s horrified expression. ‘But I’ve got Dolly and Petra for company, and no ghosts are going to bother with me. I’ll be joining ’em soon enough, don’t you think?’

‘Um.’ Maisie paused, wondering how to respond to Connie’s question. ‘No’ was blatantly a lie. And Yeah, ’cos you’re ancient, probably wouldn’t go down too well. Why were old people so tricky? Maisie wondered. Not that she knew many old people. Only Jessie, really. And now she was gone.

Connie was peering at her so hard, Maisie wondered if her vision was impaired. A pair of glasses stood on the stone mantelpiece, though the lenses were so smeared, Connie could probably see better without them.

‘I expect you’ll go on for a bit yet,’ Maisie said eventually.

Connie threw back her head and laughed. ‘I like you,’ she said, ‘even though you’re right nosy. I can see me in you.’

Maisie tried not to let her horror show on her face. She was nothing like this strange old woman who looked as if she hadn’t had a bath in weeks. And, she promised herself, she would never end up living on her own in the back of beyond with only cats for company.

‘Anyway.’ Connie gently moved the cat off her lap and pushed herself to her feet. ‘You’re kind for coming and I dare say your parents are proud of you. Far more proud than my parents were of me. But then I don’t s’pose you’ve got up to half the things that I have.’

Maisie sniffed. She’d been called lots of things in her life – loud, difficult, complicated – but she couldn’t remember ever being called kind. And her parents weren’t proud. She rarely met up with her mother, who FaceTimed a couple of times per week – long, awkward calls that Maisie kind of dreaded. And her father was always out and far too busy to spend time with her, especially now he knew that she knew his secret.

There was Caitlin, of course, who was always around and had done her best, but she wasn’t a proper parent.

---