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Great. An early guest would have been better than this poor, confused old biddy. “My grandmother’s dead.”

“Yes, I’m fully aware of that, young lady.”

“But, you said she asked you to call round?”

Kate remembered the spiritualist church she’d seen down the road and hoped the woman wasn’t bringing a message from the dead. Her confused brain couldn’t handle that.

The old lady narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at Kate. “You think I’m mad, don’t you?” Before Kate could reply, the lady burst into noisy laughter, clasping her chest and sending petals flying to the ground. She wiped the tears from her eyes. “Oh, this is a hoot. Moira hoped we’d get on. I’m Joy, by the way.” She held out a hand for Kate to shake. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in? I’m dying to see what you’ve done with the place.”

“Um, well, OK then,” Kate said, as Joy pushed past her into the living room.

“My, my, this is all a bit different.” Joy went around the room, picking up photo frames, stroking her hand over the purple sofa. She even poked a finger into the soil of a pot plant, presumably to check it was well watered.

“So, um, you knew my Nan? Do you think she’d approve? I hope she’s not turning in her grave.”

Joy laughed again, and Kate smiled. The laugh was so at odds with the woman’s age. She sounded like a teenage girl with her high-pitched chuckle and occasional snorts. “God no, she’ll be dancing in her grave. She always said she wanted to do the place up, but in the end she ran out of energy. Now, how about that cuppa?”

Kate couldn’t remember offering tea, but decided it was easier not to argue. “Sure thing. Milk and sugar?”

“Four sugars, please, dear. Just don’t tell my doctor.”

Joy followed Kate to the kitchen. As she walked through the door, her hand flew once more to her chest, but this time there was no laughter, just eyes shiny with tears. “You kept it,” she said, her voice a small croak.

“Yes, I thought the kitchen was lovely and a terrible waste to replace it with some crap modern version.”

Joy grabbed hold of Kate’s arm and looked around the room. “I can see her here. Not, you know, like a ghost, just memories,” she added quickly, presumably not to add fuel to the doolally fire.

“Was my Nan a good cook? I don’t remember much about her.”

Joy’s eyes twinkled. This time instead of tears, they brimmed with mischief. “Moira struggled to boil an egg. She used to buy Sainsbury’s Taste the Difference cakes for the WI meeting and pass them off as her own. No, her time in the kitchen was spent making cocktails.”

“Cocktails?”

“Yes, she was very creative, you know. She would have made a wonderful barmaid. Always coming up with new recipes. I’ve never been so ill as the time she plied me with some dreadful combination of marmalade, gin, and rhubarb liquor. Most were a success, though.”

“Blimey. You must have known her well then?”

“Best friends we were, ever since our first day of primary school. Seventy-five years we were there for each other. Now… now I’m on my own. Except I’ve got you now, haven’t I, dear?” Joy threw the bunch of flowers down on the worktop and wrapped her arms round Kate’s waist. Kate stood still as a statue, thoughts of madness once more returning. The kettle boiled, and Kate extracted herself from Joy’s arms.

“Let’s take our tea out into the garden,” said Joy.

“Are you sure? It’s pretty cold out there?”

“I know, but I could do with a smoke. Those flowers are for you, by the way. You might want to put them in a vase before they wilt.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” said Kate, pulling a pint glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. Joy looked horrified. “I’ll put them in a proper vase later,” Kate added, and Joy’s face softened.

“So,” said Joy, holding a mug and cigarette in the same hand. “How are you finding Bodmin? I expect a pretty young thing like you has made lots of friends already.”

“Not exactly. It took me a while to get the house sorted, then I’ve been setting up a B&B business, so there’s not been much time for socialising. I’ve befriended the solicitor who dealt with Nan’s will. He’s offered to show me around a bit.”

“Oh, has he now?” said Joy, raising and wiggling an eyebrow.

Kate laughed. “Not like that. He’s just a friend, and much older than me, so not a romantic contender.”

“Very wise, dear. Woman usually outlive men, so best get yourself a younger model unless you want to end up alone. Neither Moira nor I took that advice and both of us ended up lonely old bags. What’s the name of this solicitor chap?”

“Bob Carter.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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