Page 107 of The Garden of Forgotten Wishes
Neville’s elder brother, George, proved to be a gambler and reduced the family fortunes to the point where they sold off their land in the valley and the London house, and settled at Risings in genteel poverty on the proceeds. Susanna married a poor clergyman and went to live in the North, and I heard no more of her.
I have no friends outside the household, but my son and his sweet wife and the little grandchildren bring me great joy.
I put my trust in a more benign God than the one the Brethren worship and for the intercession of angels.
Elizabeth Grace
Ned’s deep voice stopped and he quietly laid the last sheet of paper on top of the others.
‘Well!’ I said, gazing at him and still taking it all in. ‘This puts a slightly different spin on the old tale of elopement, doesn’t it?’
‘The version in Elf’s book is right in all the main details, she just didn’t know what had caused Lizzie to run off with Neville in the first place. I hadn’t realized how young she was, either.’
‘No, little more than a child – and she sounds rather nice, doesn’t she?Andkeen on gardening,’ I added thoughtfully.
‘Nice for aVane,’ he grimaced. ‘I’d still rather not be related to that family, however distantly, although there have to be some good ones from time to time … She obviously loved the garden and if it wasn’t for her, the roses wouldn’t be there, or the folly.’
‘Yes, we know now when that was built, roughly. Richard sounds so sweet, rescuing her and then marrying her and adopting the boy. And actually, since Neville Lordly-Grace was the child’s father, he was also related to Richard, wasn’t he?’
‘Nathaniel Grace was a cousin of the Lordly-Grace who sold him the Hall, even if they looked down on him for his buccaneering days and shipping interests – trade, but also lots of lovely money,’ Ned said.
‘It’s odd to think that Lizzie’s son, Thomas, was a Victorian, which wasn’t really that many generations ago, was it?’ I said.
It brought it all so much closer.
‘We’ll tell Elf and the others about the letter at dinner tomorrow evening, shall we?’ he suggested. ‘I’ll print off a copy of the letter for Elf.’
‘Could I have one, too?’ I asked. ‘I’d like to read it again. It’s very interesting … and rather touching.’
‘Of course.’ He got up and stretched, then reached a hand down and pulled me up, too. ‘It’s getting late – I’ll see you home.’
I didn’t protest, even though it was definitely not needed in this quiet backwater, where the only thing to break the silence of the night once the pub had shut was the hooting of a hunting owl.
But this time I was wrong, for just as we reached the front of the café and Caspar was barging past me to the gate, in his usual gracious fashion, all hell seemed to break loose up at the monastic site: loud barking, shouting, car doors slamming and the revving of engines.
‘Come on!’ said Ned, taking my hand and we ran over the bridge and up the hill.
But by the time we reached the car park, the excitement was over and there was just Steve, directing a powerful torch about and his sheepdog, Bob, leaping excitedly round him. Gertie was peering out from the lighted door of the lodge opposite.
Steve turned at the sound of our footsteps and said, ‘You were right to warn me that Wayne and those friends of his with the metal detectors might try and have a go at the site. There were two vans and they had sacking over the registration numbers, but I’m sure that’s who it was.’
He shone the torch on the open gate, with the padlocks hanging loose. ‘Bolt cutters, I expect,’ he said. ‘But they didn’t know Bob was sleeping in there at night.’
‘Bob was in the enclosure?’ I said. ‘Wasn’t he cold?’
‘Not him. He sleeps in his kennel in the garden all year round; asks to go out last thing at night, he does. I brought it over and put it in a nice cosy spot out of the wind, between the hut and the wall and he had the run of the site.’
‘I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do?’ Ned asked. ‘I doubt that even Wayne and his cronies are stupid enough to leave fingerprints on the padlocks and chains.’
‘No, there’s no point calling the police, but I don’t think they’ll try it again,’ Steve said. ‘I’ve another chain that’ll hold the gate tonight and I’ll see about something a bit more heavy duty tomorrow.’
Ned helped him fix it while Bob was awarded a large rawhide bone by Gertie, who came across in her dressing gown and slippers. Then Bob retired back to his kennel, where we could hear loud gnawing noises.
When all was secured, we walked slowly back down the hill home.
‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ Ned asked.
‘If you don’t really need me in the garden first thing, I’ll go to the supermarket in Great Mumming and then pop in to see Treena.’
