She didn’t know why she bothered. She’d investigated all the places in her price range and just after Christmas wasn’t the best time for selling or buying houses, so there weren’t any new ones being offered. What was she going to do? Somehow she had to find a place to live, even if it was only temporary.

Sighing, she put the paper down and glanced out of the window. But there was no sign of Harriet. She was going to miss that girl when she went back to university in another couple of days’ time, miss her dreadfully.

As if her thoughts had summoned her great-niece, Harriet drove up to the house just then in Elise’s car and bounced into the house with some bags of shopping.

‘It’s only me!’ she yelled. ‘I got everything you wanted.’

She went to dump the purchases in the kitchen and came to the door of the sitting room with a disapproving look on her face. ‘You didn’t eat much breakfast, did you?’

‘I wasn’t hungry.’ Elise found herself being ruthlessly hugged and clung to the loving young woman for a moment or two. As she pulled away she wished she had a firm young body again, or even a saggy middle-aged one, not an old wreck of a life vehicle that needed a lot of effort to keep it running.

‘Cheer up, Auntie. You’ll find somewhere to live soon, I just know it. And it won’t be long before you’re able to drive and go shopping yourself. No more hair-raising adventures with an inexperienced driver like me. I’m going to miss having a car, though.’

‘I think you drive very well, considering. But you’re right, it will be a relief to be independent again. And you’ll be free from the mammoth clean-up chore.’

‘I’ve enjoyed it. It’s the nicest way I’ve ever earned money. It sure beats stacking shelves in a supermarket or working at a fast-food outlet.’ She gave Elise another hug and dumped the colour magazine from the newspaper into her lap. ‘Have you seen that?’

The magazine was open at a page with the heading: Artists’ Village Opening in Sexton Bassett.

‘What has that to do with me?’

‘Read it.’

So Elise studied the article, then read it through a second time more slowly.

‘If you could get taken on in this place, it’d be an ideal place for you to live, don’t you think?’

‘They’re hardly likely to accept an old woman like me.’

‘Now who’s being ageist?’ Harriet wagged her forefinger at Elise in mock reprimand. ‘Is your computer switched on? Good. Go and write an application now.’

‘I’d be wasting my time.’

‘You have plenty of time to waste. Anyway, you aren’t usually a coward. You could at least have a go at it. Go on. Do it for me.’

Grumbling, Elise sat down at the computer and started a new document. As she worked to sum herself up in one page flat, her confidence rose. She hadn’t done badly, actually, when you looked at what she’d achieved. And if it wasn’t for this stupid hip, she’d have had her second exhibition by now. Even without it, the gallery had just reported another sale of one of her paintings.