On Saturday morning, Ben arrived at the front door, toolbox in hand, to clear up the final debris from knocking down the wall. The last couple of days had been difficult for Grace – Millie wasn’t napping well and so she had got little done. She was glad to have made a start on the work, but now looked forward to the break for Christmas. Besides, she missed the kitchen. She’d eaten packet noodles for two nights in a row, and was desperate to cook herself a meal.

Meredith’s offer kept running through her mind, although she had made it without knowing of the renovations underway. Perhaps it wouldn’t stand now anyway. But what if it did? In that case, did Grace really need to be here, resurrecting the past?

She had had a restless night last night. No demonic dogs had appeared to her, but instead, she had dreamed of Adam. He was trying to tell her something, his face frantic, sometimes with worry, sometimes with fear. He looked to be shouting the words, but there was only silence. At one stage he had raised his arms and Grace had seen that he was behind thick glass as he banged his hands on it, over and over.

She had woken numb with cold, to a darkness so absolute that she couldn’t see her fingers held an inch from her face. For a moment it felt as though she no longer existed at all. Shaking, she fumbled frantically for the bedside light switch. The room lit up. Everything in place, at rest.

She had taken long, deep breaths, and when she felt calmer had picked up Rebecca. Soon she was engrossed, getting through almost a hundred pages before she fell asleep again. In her dreams, for a while she lay among bluebells, with a cocker spaniel running through the meadow. But then she was no longer amid flowers but on bare brown earth, and she had scrambled up to see Meredith’s schoolhouse towering above her, windows blazing with light. Shivering uncontrollably from the freezing night air, she rushed towards the brightness and warmth, peeping through a large window to find a dance taking place – couples whirling, a blur of colour – and while she stood there, a woman to one side in a white dress, hat in hand, turned slowly towards the window, caught Grace’s eye, and her mouth opened in the stretched O of a scream.

Grace had woken up sweating this time, still clasping the book. She had thrown it onto the floor and scrambled out of bed, swatting at lights and going to splash water on her face. She had registered herself in the mirror, but looked away before she could catch her own reflected eye.

‘Grace? Grace? Are you all right?’

Ben was speaking to her, his voice drawing her from her distraction. He put down his toolbox and reached out, gently touching her hand. Grace looked at him, and they were still for a second, their eyes locked, before Ben dropped his hand and picked up his toolbox again, waiting expectantly.

It took Grace a moment longer to recover. She took a breath. ‘Yes, of course. Come on in,’ she said, and made way for him.

Half an hour later, Grace heard the crunch of gravel as she was tidying upstairs while Millie napped. She peered out of the window and saw Annabel climbing from her car, no doubting the city girl from her sparkling knit top and jeans teamed with knee-high boots. Ben was downstairs somewhere, pottering about clearing up and doing some preliminary work on the fireplace. She ran down to the front door to make introductions, and got there in time to see Annabel stop halfway along the path, dragging an enormous suitcase, her mouth dropping as Ben opened the door ahead of Grace, carrying a bag of rubbish.

‘Annabel, this is Ben …’ Grace said behind him.

Annabel glanced towards her sister, her face full of wry amusement.

‘He’s helping with the renovations, remember?’

‘Ah.’ Annabel grinned. ‘I do remember, Grace,’ she said, looking at Ben and offering him her hand. ‘It’s very nice to meet you.’

Annabel’s flirtations were never subtle, and Grace watched on with resignation as Ben took hold of her slender fingers. ‘Same here.’ He smiled civilly. ‘Would you like me to take that for you?’ He motioned towards her case.

‘Yes please!’ Annabel looked delighted.

As soon as he’d gone, Annabel came close to Grace and said in an undertone, ‘You didn’t tell me he was so good-looking. Finally, this place has something to recommend it. I might have to buy myself some shiny new wellies and come and visit more often.’

Grace rolled her eyes at her sister’s back as she followed her inside. Annabel claimed she didn’t have time for romance while she focused on her career, but she had no qualms where flirting was concerned. Her friend James regularly joked that it was Annabel’s favourite sport. At the thought of James, Grace felt guilty. She hadn’t even let him know that she was back in Yorkshire. She knew she was putting it off, in case he questioned what she was doing there. The problem was, he knew her too well.

While in the hallway, she heard Millie beginning to stir. She went to collect her daughter, finding her yawning and needing her nappy changed. By the time they got back downstairs, Annabel was curled up on the sheet-covered sofa, steaming mug cradled in her hands, observing Ben as he worked by the fireplace.

‘I was just asking Ben about his Christmas plans,’ Annabel said as she spied Grace. ‘And he hasn’t got any, as it turns out. So I’ve invited him to join us – the more the merrier, right?’

As Ben faced them, Grace saw that his cheeks were slightly flushed. ‘Look,’ he began, ‘I hadn’t actually –’

‘Ben, it’s fine,’ Annabel chided, ‘it’s the least Grace can do when you’ve spent all week working on the cottage. Come on, I promise us Taylor girls know how to have a good time – don’t we, Grace?’

‘Of course,’ Grace agreed. ‘Annabel’s right, you’re very welcome to join us.’

‘In fact we’ll be completely offended if you don’t,’ Annabel added cheerfully.

Ben looked unsure, but said, ‘In that case, thanks,’ and moved back to the fireplace, continuing to take measurements. Millie struggled out of Grace’s arms and crawled over to Ben, putting her hands on his knee and pulling herself up to inspect what he was doing. Ben turned to her and smiled, and she gave a shy smile back.

Grace watched them, wondering what it was about Ben that Millie found so intriguing.

‘I thought that thing was supposed to have wound down by now?’ Annabel was looking beyond the living-room doorway towards the grandfather clock.

Grace frowned. ‘Actually, you’re right, it should have. I thought it had stopped last weekend, but it started again, and I think it’s been going ever since.’

‘Did you want to let it wind down?’ Ben sounded apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. It stopped on Wednesday while I was here, so I wound it up again for you.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Grace was just relieved that there was a rational, ordinary explanation. What has got in to you? she scolded herself. You didn’t believe in ghosts before, there’s no reason to start now.

Then her focus shifted to her sister, as Annabel cried, ‘Guess what, Grace, I’ve got some great news.’ She nearly spilled her tea as she bounced up and down on the sofa. ‘I pitched a piece about living with ghosts to my editor, and she loved it! So I’ll be able to do some research while I’m here for Christmas!’

‘Oh, right.’ Grace was unable to match her sister’s vivacity. ‘When did you decide to do that?’

‘On the drive back from here. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Meredith and Claire said. I can’t believe they’re so glib about living with a ghost! If there really is a ghost in the house, of course. Perhaps they’re fibbing and that’s why they don’t care. But, whatever, readers will lap it up, it will make a great story. I’m going to try to persuade them to talk to me, and see what else I can uncover of the local spirit population. I can see the piece now, all moody black and white photographs. I haven’t quite got the angle yet, but it’ll come.’