Part 15 (1/2)

'You didn't visit my great-aunt for help, then?' Gwen said, smiling sweetly.

The woman pulled back. 'Your great-aunt?'

'Yes. Iris Harper. Resident of Pendleford for over fifty years; you probably knew her. Seems like everybody did.'

The woman fiddled with her gold watch, twisting it to look at the face. 'Oh goodness, I must get on. It's coffee morning in the town hall. For the seniors. You're welcome to volunteer, of course ...' And she put down her last apple and rushed out of the door as if pursued by h.e.l.l's demons.

Irritated a both by the snotty woman and with herself for caring what the snotty woman thought a Gwen stuck out her hand to grab a tin of tomatoes. Her hand slipped through the line of cans and closed around a soft packet. She drew it out and stared: a green and white bag of flour. In date. Okay. She'd spent years resisting the Finding and now it was helping her with her grocery shopping.

After a slightly frosty exchange with John, Gwen stepped out onto the main street and wondered what to do next. She had plenty to do at the house, of course, the list of things that needed fixing, cleaning or throwing away unrolling in her mind like a serpent, but the air was pleasantly crisp and the pale November sun was high in an almost cloudless sky.

She walked along the roads at random, tracing a vague circle around the town. On a back road, the narrow pavement and green verge gave way to a small, flat green, speckled still with the remains of the morning's frost. Beyond the green stood a church.

She walked through the lychgate to the ancient graveyard, the stillness complete. At the back of the yard there was another gate and, beyond that, a much larger, newer graveyard. The rows of marble and stone were more regimented, their polished surfaces s.h.i.+ning in the light.

Gwen felt drawn to the stones, drifting down the rows until she came to Iris's. It was a small, simple shape, made from speckled dark grey stone. The inscription read: Iris Harper. 1924a2010. You get what you get.

Well, that was chirpy. 'Sorry I didn't bring anything,' Gwen said, suddenly feeling rude. The woman had given her a house, for goodness' sake. She slipped her rucksack from her shoulders and opened it. Flour, milk, carrots. She rummaged and her fingers touched a brown paper bag she didn't remember buying. Inside was a small aubergine. Gwen frowned; had there even been aubergines in the shop? Had she picked one up? She held it up, its perfect purple skin glowing as if lit from within. Oh Christ, she was having a religious experience over an aubergine. That was blasphemy at the very least.

She balanced the aubergine on Iris's grave, in the place where wilting flower arrangements sat on the others. It reflected in the surface of the stone, making the cold grey look warmer. More homely. Gwen felt a lump in her throat and her eyes p.r.i.c.ked. Madness or not, she felt calmer than she had in months.

She hesitated, glancing around the graveyard before speaking out loud. 'Is there something special about your house?' Gwen's voice was thin, trailing off at the end of the sentence and she blushed even though there was n.o.body around to hear her talking to herself. She wanted to ask if End House was somehow amplifying her abilities. The Finding was happening more and more, and the lemon slice had de-hexed Brian Dixon right in front of her eyes. She felt breathless, overwhelmed, sick. What if Helen Brewer's dog and the packet of flour were just the beginning? What if she couldn't control it any more?

On the way home, she called into the corner shop again. John looked at her suspiciously and she bought a bag of apples as a mark of friends.h.i.+p. There was no way to ask the question without appearing unhinged, but Gwen swallowed her pride. 'Did I buy an aubergine earlier? I wasn't sure.'

John looked down at the counter, his cheeks reddening. 'I put that in. Free of charge.'

'Oh.'

'I used to order them just for Iris. Special, like. That was the last one and no one else will want it, so it seemed like the right thing to do ...' He trailed off, his cheeks pink.

'It was,' Gwen injected as much warmth into her voice as possible and John smiled properly, showing nicotine-stained teeth.

Back at the house, Gwen was surprised to find Cam waiting for her in his car. Truth was, she found it difficult to deal with the actuality of Cameron Laing; she'd spent so many years coming to terms with him in the abstract. The living, breathing, frowning Cam still seemed like a creature from another planet which, Gwen supposed, he was.

'Would you like some tea? Coffee?' The saying 'you can never go back' was on a loop in Gwen's mind, which didn't help matters.

'Coffee, please,' Cam said, seemingly oblivious to the effect he had on her. He dug into his bag and produced a brown cardboard folder. 'I was supposed to give you this when you came to the office. I can't believe I forgot.'

'That's okay.' Gwen concentrated on unlocking the front door. 'It's nice of you to bring it round.'

'Not at all,' Cam said. 'It was my mistake.'

Gwen moved around the kitchen. Soon the smell of good coffee filled the air. She opened a tin and frowned at the contents. 'A neighbour left these on the front step as a house-warming. I think it's ginger cake.'

'It's a friendly town,' Cam said.

'Apparently.' Gwen sat opposite him and took a slice.

Cam was looking at her with an odd expression on his face.

'What?'

'It's funny seeing you being so domestic. It's not how I remember you.'

'I was eighteen,' Gwen said, irritated. 'And I think you mostly saw me horizontal and with my s.h.i.+rt unb.u.t.toned.' As soon as the words were out, Gwen could've hit herself with her plate. She felt the redness rush up her face.

Cam nodded, as calm as ever. He took a slice of cake, then paused before eating it. 'No salty lemon in this?'

Gwen forced a smile. 'I told you, I didn't make it.'

'That was a weird day, wasn't it?'

Before Gwen could work out whether Cam actually wanted to have a conversation about the de-hexing of Brian Dixon, the back door swung open and Lily appeared.

'h.e.l.lo.' Lily peered at Cam with interest. 'Are you the lawyer?'

'Cameron Laing.' Cam stood up and offered his hand.

'What can I do for you?' Gwen said, pointedly not standing. This open-door policy was beyond a joke.

'I'm Lily Thomas.' Lily took Cam's hand and stared up at him with a winsome expression. 'I looked after Iris.' She turned to Gwen, switching gears: 'I haven't been paid for the last month, either.'

'Oh G.o.d, I'm sorry,' Gwen said. 'Did Iris leave a chequebook or anything? I know I can't access her account for six months.'

'I don't remember seeing anything, but we can check again,' Cam said. 'There might be something in this lot.' He tapped the file on the table.

'Personal service,' Lily said. 'I'll have to remember that. If I ever need legal help.'

'Certainly,' Cam said. He offered her a business card.

'Or perhaps it's the irresistible charms of our lovely Gwen here.' Lily smiled without warmth. 'Has she bewitched you, Cameron?'

'Uh-' Cam managed.

Lily turned back to Gwen, suddenly all business. 'I'd appreciate my money as soon as possible. If you don't have it, then I'd happily take Iris's notebooks instead. I'm sure I'll be able to find that recipe, as you're too busy to look.'

'Recipe?' Cam said.

'Chutney,' Lily and Gwen spoke at the same time.

'Well, I won't impose.' Lily nodded to Cam. 'Nice to meet you.'

After Lily had left, Gwen turned to Cam. 'You said something about papers?'

He opened the file on the table. 'Just formalities. You've got to agree to the covenants on the house, sign that the house contents match the list, things like that.'