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9
Two hours later, still feeling unsettled by her latest run-in with Florence, Lettie was surrounded by the dead. People often found it ghoulish but there was little she enjoyed more than an ancient graveyard. She’d passed many an afternoon reading inscriptions on the stones, each one a tantalising snapshot into a complete life.
All those people who’d lived and loved and argued and worried and laughed. All those hopes and dreams now brought to an end.
She ran her fingers across a tilting gravestone. Each of these people had helped to make Heaven’s Cove what it was today. The village’s history was built on their stories – on the stories of people like Cornelius.
Several of the stones were so old the names had been obliterated by rain and salt winds. But Lettie walked around studying them all closely, looking for Florence’s brother. She couldn’t find anyone called Cornelius. But in the shadow of the red-stone church, at the very edge of the graveyard, she found a stone for an Elizabeth Allford, who was born in 1895 and died in 1942. The words beneath her name in curly script said: Sheltered in the Lord’s hands from the crushing trials of this world.
Could she be Florence’s mother-in-law or maybe sister-in-law? Lettie was doing the maths in her head when her concentration was shattered by her phone ringing. It was her own mother, and Lettie immediately felt a surge of guilt for not being there to help her with the shopping.
‘Lettie, there you are. I hope you’re having a good time.’
‘I am, thanks. How are you and Dad?’
‘Oh, you know. Missing you and looking forward to you being back. I’ve got lots of little jobs for you to do.’
‘Can’t Daisy help you, or Ed?’
‘I don’t like to ask because they’re both so busy.’
Guilt wrapped itself around Lettie’s heart, along with a stab of resentment that she tried so hard to dampen down.
‘I’m only away for a couple of weeks at the most.’
‘It was all rather unexpected but you’ll have to come back soon for work, won’t you.’
‘Hmm.’
Lettie began to wish her mum hadn’t rung. She couldn’t tell her over the phone that she had no work to get back to. Even if she softened the circumstances around losing her job, if she told her mum she was unemployed, a list of ‘suitable’ – a.k.a. boring – jobs to apply for would be emailed to her before the day was out.
‘So tell me what the village where you’re staying is like?’
‘Heaven’s Cove is gorgeous. Full of character and history.’
‘And what made you choose that village in particular?’
‘It’s a lovely place.’
‘And…?’
‘And… well, the house where I’m staying is where Iris and her family lived many years ago, when she was young. I found the address in her belongings.’
‘Is that right?’ Her mum paused before saying gently, ‘I know your great-aunt’s death hit you hard, Lettie, but do you think it’s healthy to chase after her now she’s gone?’
‘I’m not chasing after her. I’m trying to find out more about the key necklace that she left me.’ Lettie hesitated. ‘And the letter I found.’
‘What letter?’
‘I found an old letter to her that says she’s a “darling girl” and mentions “the key to my heart”, which possibly refers to the necklace.’
‘And you’re only telling me this now, more than a month after her death?’
‘It seemed a bit too private to talk about at the time.’
‘Hmm.’ Her mum sounded annoyed. ‘Nothing is too private to share with family, Lettie.’
Lettie felt told off, and suffocated. She was already regretting telling her mum about the letter, even though talking about it might be the only way to discover what it meant.
