“That’s right. Miss Belinda. You used to come in here when you were a little nipper and you stayed with your granny. I remember your mum too. You have her look, you know.”

“Do I?” Belinda looked pleased. “Yes, now I remember coming in here with my pocket money to buy sweets.”

“That was a good while ago now, wasn’t it, my lovey?” the woman said. “I certainly miss those days. Your granny was a lovely lady. So refined and polite. A bit of a stickler for doing the right thing and for knowing your place, but a decent sort. Those days are gone now. And the new lot—well, it’s different, isn’t it? I mean—” She broke off suddenly, looking up. A wary look had come over her face.

I turned to see that a woman had entered the shop.

“Did a package arrive for me, Mrs. Briggs?” the woman asked. She was about our age, solidly built with a round flat face, an upturned button of a nose and upwardly slanted eyes. I took in immediately that she was expensively dressed, wearing a mink stole, and her haircut was stylish, although her accent was decidedly from the West Country.

“I’m afraid it didn’t, Mrs. Summers,” the shopkeeper replied stiffly.

“So annoying,” the woman snapped. “They promised me it would be here by today.”

“If it comes by a later delivery I’ll have the boy bring it up to the house, shall I?” Mrs. Briggs asked.

“Thank you. I’d appreciate it. Oh, and while I’m here, a packet of Players please.”

Belinda glanced at me and we decided there was no point in lingering. “Come on, Georgie. We might as well drive into Wadebridge and see if there is anything there. And failing that, Padstow,” Belinda said.

We had reached the door when a voice behind us said, “Wait a minute. I know you. Aren’t you Belinda?”

Belinda turned to look at the woman as she came toward us. “Rosie?” she asked in surprise.

Chapter 7

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 16

ROUND AND ABOUT IN THE WILDS OF CORNWALL.

Great excitement last night! Strange man in our bed. Now we desperately need a more comfortable place to stay. I imagine that will be our quest for the day!

“Rosie?” Belinda repeated. “Mrs. Barnes’s daughter?”

“The very same,” the young woman replied. “I haven’t seen you since your grandma sold the place. That must have been what—twelve years ago now?”

“At least,” Belinda said. “So you are still living in the area? I heard your mother moved away. Didn’t she open up a café in Bath?”

“She did. Your grandma gave her a nice parting gift that set her up. She’s doing quite comfortably, thank you.”

“But you stayed on here?”