Up in her room, Hazel took the bulbs out of her pocket and laid them out on her bedside table. She went to her case and found an unworn pair of socks, maroon, to keep the light off them. She put one inside the other, so its pair wouldn’t get lost. There was a little earth adhering to the bulbs and she was anxious not to lose it: even if the flowers didn’t grow, she’d still have brought a tiny quantity of soil from The Grange into her own garden, such as it was. The thought made her happy. The bulbs were not much bigger than Caramel Buds, eleven or twelve of them in all. She dropped them, two by two, into the socks, then swept up the crumbs of soil they’d left behind and carefully, cupping her hand, funnelled those in. Maybe she’d make a bit more of a garden for herself, when she got home. Take up the paving, put some flowering plants in. She could make a place to sit out there, with some shade.

She went to her suitcase and unzipped a small compartment at the side and slipped in the socks, folded over so nothing would spill out, next to the little wad of tissue paper in which William Gale’s medal was wrapped.

19.

Cass had offered to have Hazel and her friend to stay. There was plenty of room, she said. She’d been welcoming, suggesting that they come for a couple of nights; longer, if they wanted to use it as a base to explore the area for a few days. But Hazel had felt hesitant about taking this up, given that her brother had clearly left the place in unhappy circumstances. She’d talked it over with Dawn.

‘There’s been a lot of water under the bridge since then,’ said Dawn. ‘They were just kids, weren’t they?’

‘Yeah, but I know Mum felt a lot of bitterness towards that family. The mother, anyways. I just feel kind of conflicted about it.’

‘It must have been terrible for your mother. She was such a sweet lady.’

‘Yes it was. She never really got over it.’

‘Well, of course. You wouldn’t. But, you know, if you want to meet them, talk to them about your brother, that’s already bringing an olive branch. It’s not like you’re going to go there to insult them. You may as well take her up on it, the offer I mean.’

But Hazel couldn’t bring herself to accept the invitation, not after having read Celia’s scalding letter to her big brother. If he wasn’t allowed to sleep under that roof, she wasn’t going to either.