‘One next to the Harris family. Names are Howard, Lily and Amelia Jeffrey.’

Margaret shook her head. ‘I don’t but Robin might. He tends a lot of the graves and knows most of the people who come regularly. You’ll find him if you follow the main lane.’

We set off back in the direction we’d come from and soon found an old man with white hair in gardening clothes who was cutting back shrubs. Heather filled him in and asked if he knew who had left the flowers.

‘Ah yes, I know exactly where you mean, Jeffreys’ grave. Lady came late afternoon yesterday. Comes every year around this time.’

‘You don’t happen to know who she was, do you?’

He shook his head. ‘Older lady but I don’t know her name. I only know the ones under the ground. Sorry I can’t help more.’

We thanked him for his time then made our way to the exit.

‘So what do you think?’ asked Heather.

‘It’s not so unusual,’ I said. ‘People come and leave flowers all the time, but I do think the proximity of the graves and the names and dates lean towards the fact that Lily Jeffrey might have been Grace’s sister and that she and her husband had a little girl.’

‘You could look them up now that you have a possible surname,’ said Heather. ‘Maybe find death certificates and what the cause was.’

‘Or Lily’s marriage certificate; that would give her maiden name.’

Heather rubbed her hands together. ‘Exciting, isn’t it?’

‘You’re supposed to be my voice of reason,’ I said. ‘Don’t you start getting into it all now.’

‘I’m still not sure of the past life thing but, you have to admit, the rest of it is all intriguing.’

‘And spooky,’ I said. ‘Gives me the shivers.’

32

I have a reception to organize. I’d booked a private room in a pub over the phone and wanted to check it out in person. I found the place easily enough, parked and got out. Although it was my first time there, without thinking I went to the right side to look for the entrance, only to find that there wasn’t one there. I walked round to the back to explore further and found a man having a cigarette on the back steps.

‘Good morning, sir. Can I help you?’

‘Oh yes, thank you. I was looking for the way in and thought the door was on this side.’

The man smiled. ‘Not any more. Here, follow me.’ He led me back to the side of the pub. ‘Your instincts were correct, though; the entrance used to be here.’ He pointed at the brickwork. ‘Look closely.’

I looked at the wall, unsure about what I was supposed to be seeing.