The Hardie Inheritance Read Free Page A

rather than angular; and a knob, curved again, which rose from the top right-hand corner prevented the shape from being dull.
    â€˜It’s’ – Trish ran forward across the grass. Bending down, she stepped through the hole. Ellis, following, saw that she was now standing in a second hole cut from the same block and lying flat on the lawn. ‘It’s the house!’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s Greystones!’
    â€˜Full marks for imagination, but I hardly think –’
    â€˜But look, Daddy. That’s the tower. And this is the space for living in.’
    â€˜Then I don’t think you ought to scramble about in other people’s houses.’ He was laughing, not pretending to agree with her understanding of the stone. Reluctantly she stepped out of the hole and allowed her father to take her hand again, for now they had arrived at the house.
    He rang the bell beside the front door, but frowned to himself as he did so. It must have been a long time since the door was last opened, for cobwebs stretched across all the cracks, and some of last year’s dead leaves lay undisturbed on the threshold. ‘We’d better go and look for another door,’ he said, without waiting long for an answer.
    The windows of the rooms they passed were large and long, but the curtains inside had all been drawn across.
    â€˜Do you think someone’s dead?’ asked Trish.
    â€˜They probably just want to keep the sun out, so that their pictures won’t fade.’
    â€˜I don’t think anyone’s living here.’
    Ellis, who had made enquiries in the village, knew better and took his daughter’s hand again to lead her past the front of the house and round a corner. A few yards ahead of them a woman was sitting outside in the sunshine. She was grey-haired; but her face, which had once been that of a beautiful woman, was almost unlined, needing no make-up to cover it.She looked very much at ease, comfortable and relaxed as she plucked a chicken.
    â€˜I’m sorry to intrude,’ said Ellis. ‘I did ring the bell, but …’
    â€˜I wouldn’t hear it out here.’ The woman smiled her thanks to Trish, who had run to catch some of the escaping feathers, and now approached shyly to press them down with the others.
    â€˜I’d like to have a word with the owner of Greystones,’ Ellis said, phrasing the request vaguely because he was not sure whether he was addressing a servant or a member of the family. The woman’s occupation – and the serviceable apron which protected her simple cotton frock – suggested that she was a member of the kitchen staff, but her calm, pleasant voice conveyed a different impression. She might even be the owner of the house herself – but this proved not to be the case.
    â€˜You’ll find her in the stables. Go back past the front door to the other side of the house, and then through the arch. But if you’re trying to sell something, you’ll be wasting your time.’
    â€˜Thank you for your help.’ Ellis turned to go, but paused for one more question. ‘I’m correct, am I, in believing that Greystones is still in the possession of the Hardie family?’
    â€˜That’s right. It’s Miss Hardie you’re looking for.’
    â€˜Thank you.’
    Trish took hold of his hand again as they retraced their footsteps. ‘Was that lady the cook?’
    â€˜Perhaps. I’m not sure.’
    â€˜She had a nice face. But I didn’t know that chickens without feathers looked like that. Do you think there’ll be ponies in the stables? Will they let me have a ride? What’s all that hammering going on?’
    â€˜You know as much as I do.’ By now they had reached the stable block. Over the arch the golden hands of a clock with a blue face pointed to twelve o’clock, although that was not the correct time. Hand in hand they walked through the arch and into