Page 7 of The Garden of Forgotten Wishes
She grinned. ‘No, but he didn’t know that.’
‘You said you thought he’d got someone watching you for a while, presumably to see if you led him to where I was hiding.’
‘Yes, and it sounded like the same man Mum and Dad said turned up at the château, asking nosy questions, but of course by then you’d long since moved on and the trail was cold.’
‘The fact that I left him a letter asking him to contact my solicitor to discuss a divorce must have given him a hint I wasn’t coming back,’ I said drily.
‘I expect so, but it wasn’t until he wanted to remarry that he actually did,’ Treena said. ‘Lucky for you – but not for her.’
‘No …’ I agreed. ‘But perhaps things will be different.’
‘Perhaps,’ she said, though not sounding convinced, and then tipped the last of the prosecco into our glasses. She passed mine over and raised her own in a toast.
‘Here’s to your new, unfettered and free life in Jericho’s End!’
We clinked glasses.
‘Jericho’s End is an odd name for a village, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘Wasn’t there a Jericho in the Bible, where the walls fell down when someone blew a trumpet?’
‘Yes, so there was, but you should be safe unless anyone starts up a brass band,’ Treena grinned. Then she added, ‘It’s just like old times, having you here. I wish you could stay a few days more.’
‘I do, too, but they seemed very keen on my starting work as soon as possible. And actually, I can’t wait to see this magical village that Mum used to tell me stories about. I’m just afraid the reality won’t live up to them!’
‘Haven’t you even looked at the place on Google Maps yet?’ she asked. ‘That gives you a good idea of the layout and you can move around the village as if you’re wearing an invisibility cloak.’
‘No … I don’t quite know why, but I sort of want it all to unfold in front of me when I arrive, not sneak about the place first, via the internet.’
‘You’re weird,’ she said, but in a kind way.
‘Don’t forget, I couldn’t afford a laptop for ages until Aunt Em gave me her old one. I had to rely on occasional access to the internet on someone else’s, and my phones are always the cheapest and most basic ones I can find.’
‘That old laptop of Mum’s is so ancient, it belongs in a museum. Does it even work?’
‘If I turn it on and off a few times and the wind’s in the right direction, then it usually does. It’s started making an ominous whining noise, though.’
‘I’m just about to buy a new laptop, so you can have my old one,’ she offered. ‘It works fine; I just fancied the new model. I’ll clean my stuff off it for you, ready for next time you come over.’
‘Thank you, that would be great,’ I said. ‘I must buy a new phone too. I dropped the previous pay-as-you-go one in a lily pond.’
‘Why not sign up with my mobile phone provider? It’s a rolling thing: you pay every month and you can cancel any time. It’s cheap, too, and if we do it now on the laptop, the SIM will arrive in a day or two. You don’t have to hide behind a disposable phone any longer.’
I thought that seemed a good idea and it took no time to sort out. I refused her offer to get Jericho’s End up on the screen while we were at it, though.
‘No, I’ll wait and see it for real,’ I said. ‘At least I did look for the roadto it from Great Mumming on an old UK car atlas I found under the passenger seat, and it isn’t that far away as the crow flies. Haveyoubeen there?’
‘Yes, a few times, but only to a biggish house called Risings up on the left of the road before you get into the village proper. The owner’s an overbearing woman with two Pekes that she’s convinced have delicate constitutions. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t bring them to the surgery in Great Mumming, but I make her pay through the nose for dragging me all the way out there for every upset stomach.’
‘Weren’t you curious enough to drive into the village for a look?’ I asked.
‘No, I always seem to be rushed for time. I know it’s supposed to be a beauty spot with waterfalls and stuff,’ she said vaguely. ‘But I will come and visit once you’ve settled in and … well, actually, I know someone who will be working there from Easter right over the summer, so I expect I’ll be popping in occasionally to see how he’s getting on, too.’
She looked faintly self-conscious and I gazed at her in surprise.
‘A boyfriend?’
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘Just – someone I met a few months ago. A friend. He’s an archaeologist and he’s got funding for a dig at Jericho’s End. There’s some kind of small monastic ruin near the river on the village outskirts, more or less opposite Risings. It’s never been properly excavated.’
‘A small monastic ruin doesn’t sound very exciting.’
