The Edge, Chapter 2. A Rowansford story.

“Fetch me a couple of jars of jam please, Jacob. I’m going up to see Griselda tomorrow. She’ll be glad of it.”
“What flavour?”
“She likes strawberry – and Anita and I made lots of that. Blackbery and apple too, I think.”
It was a while since the larder had been so well-stocked. Anita had been a huge help to Alice, Jacob thought. And Amy had brought a joy into Alice’s life that had been missing for a long time. What a good job he’d slipped and bumped his head – they might not have met otherwise! Griselda Tostead wasn’t the easiest person in Rowansford to get on with: there was no denying that! But she and Alice had been at primary school together, had been friends back in the time when, for both of them, life was full of possibilities and promise. And Alice alone knew the secret of the event that had blighted Griselda’s life and soured her for ever. And Griselda was always pleased to see Alice. While there was still one person she still liked, still cared about, she felt as though who she used to be hadn’t disappeared completely. She’d wept with Alice over the death of her daughter, and in her hurt had known that she still had a heart that cared, somewhere in there.
“So, tell me about Luke’s new girlfriend, now that you’ve met her.”
“Well,” Alice began, “we went out to The Mill tearooms…” “Luke was nervous, I could tell – but then he knows we don’t like that he’s sleeping with his girlfriend. You and I, Griselda, we grew up in another world, where no respectable girl would behave like that. Not openly, anyway! But Lucilla was really attentive to him – I liked that, liked that she was being thoughtful about him.” “She’s very pretty indeed. Luke couldn’t take his eyes off her for most of the time. Slim, blonde, long legs – and a rather short skirt! – but at least her dress wasn’t cut down to her navel. Jacob loved seeing his son look a bit happier.” “They do make a nice cup of tea at The Mill, I must say. Turns out Lucilla’s doing some research on Rowansford – and when she discovered Luke grew up there, she was amazed! She works for a magazine, and this is by way of being a freelance piece of work, so sometimes she’s too busy to work on it, but whenever she’s got some free time, she’s planning to come over. Jacob and I might see more of Luke than we have done for a while, which would be so lovely.” By the time she’d finished telling Griselda about Lucilla, all five cats were in the room, Trent purring away on her lap.
“He’s got a real soft spot for you,” Griselda said, stroking Tyne. “He’ll push the others off your lap if one of them gets there first. Why don’t you get a cat?”
“Well, we never had one because of the hens. Though we haven’t got hens any more. Maybe one day…” “Thank you for coming,” Griselda said. “And for the jam. I’ll enjoy that so much more than bought jam.”
It was a pity, Alice thought, that Griselda had had so much money. If she’d had to go out and earn her living, she’d have moved on from the hurt of so long ago, maybe made a better future for herself. She hugged her friend warmly, and promised to visit again soon.
“And you must come and see us too. You haven’t been down to the farm for a couple of years now.”
Not since Sarah’s funeral – it was more than two years now. “Well, that went very well, I think.”
“Your parents are real sweeties. You’re lucky to have them. I only wish…” Lucilla let the rest of her sentence trail artfully away.
“You know, you could ask my dad about the local history. He really does know a lot about it.”
“No – he’s a busy man. And if he spends time talking to me, that will be more for your mother to do on her own.” “Darling, one of the things that’s so lovely about you is the way you think more about other people than yourself.”
“Luke, thank you. I don’t deserve such a compliment, you know.” And Lucilla gazed at him soulfully, eyes big and appealing. “What do you think about us having hens again? Griselda got me thinking about it, saying why didn’t we have a cat? And we could always give Anita and Amy some of the eggs.”
Jacob smiled at his wife. “If you’d like hens, we could have them my dear. Would you like me to make you a hen house again?”
“Like the first one you made, just after we were married, out of old packing cases?”
“Well now, there’s a coincidence. Because we do happen to have some, and it would use them up…” “Well, do you like your new hen house?”
“Jacob, you old softie. You’ve painted hearts on it, just like you did on that first one you made for me.”
“Well, I still love you as much now as I did then. More, in fact, now I come to think about it…” “Jacob, I love it! You’re so clever.”
Anita – and Amy – definitely approved of the hen house and its new inhabitants. In fact Amy had to be scooped up hastily before she climbed inside it! Which the hens would not have appreciated – and although they had nice soft feathers, they also had sharp beaks. “That reminds me,” Alice said, hens fed and eggs collected. “There’s something I need to ask you.”
Although Alice was quieter than Jacob, she wasn’t normally this hesitant. “Ask anything,” Anita said, smiling reassuringly. “I can always say I’d rather not talk about it, but you aren’t going to offend me.” Little by little over the months, she and Alice had got to know each other better.
“Well – I get the impression that you don’t really want anybody knowing about you and Amy, don’t want anyone interfering.”
“No, I don’t. Was someone asking around about me?” Anita’s voice was suddenly sharp with worry.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Alice said hastily. “It was the grand-daughter of an old friend of ours, doing some research for a history project for school. And young Bryony’s stepson. They were interested in the houses up on The Edge. Jacob and I, we steered them over to the Haslingfield estate houses instead.” “Thank you,” Anita said. “I don’t want just anybody knowing about us. I mean, I know we’re managing okay, and Amy’s fine – but I don’t want some busy-body saying where we’re living isn’t suitable.”
Alice understood – and agreed with Anita.
“The conditions I heard about when I was a child, from my parents – your place would be like a palace compared to what people were living in then. They’ve been knocked down now, a long while since, but there were some terrible slum properties, down by the river where the new laboratories are now. One toilet for the whole street, one water pump…even when I was a child, and the worst of them had been cleared away, I wasn’t allowed to go down there.” Lucilla was heading for the library again. She’d sent Luke off to meet up with his parents.
“Go and see them without me. They love you so much, Luke – and they miss you too. We’ve got a long weekend together here – give your parents some of it.”
“Lucilla, you’re so thoughtful.”
That meant a lot to Luke, she could tell. She’d smiled up at him from the circle of his arms.
“Give them my love. And – you could ask them if it would be all right for me to call on them sometime? I don’t want to be pushy – but I’d love to get to know them better.” She went to the bookcase with the maps in the drawers. She knew which one she needed to study – and she couldn’t do it with Luke around. With him, she had to keep up the pretence of being interested in the history of Rowansford – and that had proved useful, when it came to finding out who owned what.. It was a big aerial photograph, and it showed the lie of the land beautifully clearly. There was the Bardon’s farm and the land attached to it – farmed by someone else now, but still owned by them. Then the four big houses, with their land, all unoccupied, and one nearly falling down. There were a handful of old estate cottages, all unoccupied as well. Once she’d married Luke – and finished persuading the owners of the other houses to sell – then she could sell the whole parcel to a firm of developers, and she’d make a killing. She’d already visited the owners of Haslingfield House. To them, she’d been a representative of a small consortium interested in buying it and converting it into a hotel catering for visitors to the various laboratories, “and possibly conference trade as well. But the price has to be right, and we have to be able to get change of use.” The owners were definitely interested though. Tower House belonged to a wealthy gynaecologist, inherited from his grandmother. To him (her hair up, plain glasses and decidedly frumpy clothing), she was looking for a property to start a small boarding school for very young children, whose parents were often abroad.
“Three to seven year olds – we want somewhere with land so that they can be outdoors as much as possible. Have you read about the Forest School movement?” The other house was going to be an old people’s home.
“With plenty of garden space. Our vision is to enable the elderly to be able to keep up their hobbies, leisure pursuits. Studies have shown that this can reduce the likelihood of developing Alzheimer’s and other related illnesses by as much as 40%” She’d checked out the small properties belonging to Haslingfield House – no-one was living there, and they could easily be knocked down. Just two more to look at – and this one was deserted, and had been for some time. Luke was out all day with his parents – she’d got time to look at the other one too. Lucilla approached the second house through the trees – and then froze. Someone was there! A woman and a child. And as she watched, it became more and more obvious that they lived there. This was going to ruin all her plans. They depended on all the houses being empty. What could she do? Offer to buy her out? But what story could she tell here? No-one would want to buy that shack. She’d have to think of another way of getting that woman out of there. “Luke, this has been a lovely day out. And I know you’ve only got a long weekend this time. It was good of Lucilla to spare you to us.”
“Lucilla really wanted me to see you both. She’s so thoughtful. And she really likes you both. Could she call on you some time?” “She’d be really welcome. You know that. Any friend of yours is welcome at our house.”
“Thanks, Mum.” It was a Monday, some three weeks after Luke’s visit. Alice had just finished baking a couple of pies, to do them for the week, when Anita turned up. Normally, she came on a Wednesday, and the first thing she did was to apologise.
“Alice, I’m sorry – but you and Jacob were the only people I could think of to turn to for help. I’m in such trouble.”
“My dear, what is it? What’s the matter?” “I’ve just had a letter. From the Social Services. Saying that someone’s raised concerns about Amy’s welfare, and they’re coming out to inspect the place. They’re coming a week today. They’ll take Amy off me – or make us move out into some dreadful hostel somewhere – I know they will. That house will never pass muster. Alice, what am I going to do?”