She was distracted a moment by a bunch of bright-yellow daffodils leaning against a makeshift headstone. She paused a moment to read the inscription. Then her cheeks flushed as she realized the grave belonged to her son. A wave of shame washed over her, for she hadn’t even visited it. Not because she didn’t care: she cared with all her heart, but because she was afraid. She hadn’t wanted to see it. She hadn’t wanted to believe that her beloved George was dead and buried. The sight of the loose earth and those final words roughly carved were too much to bear. Better to bury her pain where she couldn’t find it and push on, as she had done when her husband died. Grief was not something to be chewed on like a pining dog with a bone, for it did nothing to bring back the deceased and everything to prolong the agony. But now she crouched down and placed her hand on the earth. It was warm where the sun had kissed it. A ball of fire began to roll up from her belly to her chest, and she inhaled sharply. The feeling was overwhelming, as if her insides were being scorched. She gripped her heart, fearing she was suffering an attack.
“She’s not in the church,” said Joshua, walking up behind her. “Ah, they’ve been here,” he added, noticing the flowers on his father’s grave. “Good of Barry to make a headstone, though it’s a little primitive.” As soon as Margaret heard her grandson’s voice, the ball of fire was extinguished—gone as if it had never been there. She took a deep, frightened breath and put out her arm. Joshua helped her up, noticing at once that his grandmother had gone very pale. “Are you all right, Grandma?”
She nodded, taking a moment to find her voice. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look well.”
“I’m as fit as a fiddle.” She pulled her arm away and smoothed down her dress.
“Do you want to look on the high street?”
“Take me home.”
“To the dower house?”
“No, the main house. I shall wait for them there.” She tried to walk, but her legs felt heavy and numb. “Give me your arm, Joshua. There, that’s better. My legs are a little stiff from crouching down.” She began to step slowly towards the path. Joshua tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed that her movements were labored and her breath staggered. Margaret wondered what would have happened if Joshua hadn’t appeared. Was she having a heart attack? What was that burning pain making its way up through her body? But instead of dwelling on it, she switched off her emotions as she had done all her life when things got too painful to endure, and focused instead on getting safely back to the car.
* * *
Antoinette closed the gate behind her. “Safe at last!” she said, putting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heart decelerate to a less alarming rate.
Phaedra looked around the beautiful garden. “What a stunning place!” she exclaimed. “It’s like we’ve just stepped into paradise.”
“It belongs to Dr. Heyworth. The last time I hid from my mother-in-law I stumbled upon it, and upon Dr. Heyworth, who thankfully has a good sense of humor and asked me in for tea.”
“Oh, so that was George’s mother.”
“Frightful woman. She wants to meet you. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”
“Is she so awful?”
“Yes, she really is. I think we should avoid her as much as possible. Though she’ll find you in the end. She’s a very persistent woman.”
“She must be devastated to lose her only son.”
“You would think, wouldn’t you? However, she’s so English you’d never know she was in mourning. She’s had a face like a boot for as long as I’ve known her.”
“Oh dear, how sad.”
At that moment Dr. Heyworth appeared at his conservatory door. “Ah, Lady Frampton, what a pleasure to see you at my garden gate.” He grinned at her knowingly. “I’m assuming you’re running away again?”
“Oh dear,” she hissed to Phaedra. “This is becoming something of a habit. He must think I’m mad!” She strode across the lawn. “Well, as it happens, I am running away again,” she replied.
“If you’re seeking refuge, why don’t you both come in for a drink?” He turned his eyes on Phaedra.
“This is George’s daughter,” she explained.
Dr. Heyworth raised his eyebrows. “Ah.”
“Hello, I’m Phaedra.” They shook hands.
“Lady Frampton was just telling me about you the other day. I’m so pleased you came down. Come on in. How long do you need?”
Antoinette walked through the door he held open for her. “As long as it takes my mother-in-law to scour the town.”