Thank you for your email addressed to my uncle, Kit Waddington. He is an elderly man now, but his mind is still strong and he is thrilled to hear that your mother, Molly, is alive and well. He has many happy memories of the family’s time in Wormley and would be pleased to be in contact again.

Shall we speak on the phone? This is my number.

Best wishes,

Chris Marshall

CEO, Dragon Valley Wines

With a thudding heart Bella picks up the phone and dials.

‘Ms Browning? Hello there.’

‘Bella, please. Thank you for agreeing to speak to me.’

‘It’s a pleasure, Bella. Please call me Chris. My uncle is delighted to hear that your mother is alive and well.’

‘Very much so,’ Bella says. ‘Did you know that she was rather in love with him, once upon a time? I think he broke her heart.’

He laughs. ‘He was quite a charmer in his youth, I’m told. I owe him everything, you know. I was named after him, and he was there all through my childhood and mentored me, so I was ready to take on his wine business. These days he lives in a bungalow on the vineyard, and I see him several times a week.’

The ice is fully broken now and they natter away like old friends, to the point that Bella feels able to risk mentioning the discovery of the bones in the lake, and her mother’s renewed desire to find out what happened to her brother. Chris says he’s got a trip to East Anglia planned for the following month – to visit a fellow wine-maker – and promises to ask Kit whether he feels up to the journey. Perhaps she and Molly could meet them there?

‘We’d be thrilled to,’ she says. ‘Just name the day.’

25

Molly is all of a flutter. The hairdresser visited the previous day, but she isn’t satisfied.

‘My usual girl was on holiday, and this one cut it far too short,’ she complains, yanking at the grey curls as though trying to force them to grow.

‘I think it looks rather chic,’ Bella says. ‘Here, let me just brush it back, off your forehead.’

‘I don’t need chic, whatever that means, at eighty-four,’ her mother grumbles, but then insists that her daughter retrieves from her dressing-table drawer the ancient lipstick, blusher and powder compact that have lain there, unused, for years.

‘Honestly, anyone would think you were getting ready for a first date,’ Bella says.

Molly frowns disapprovingly, saying nothing. She’s too nervous to enjoy being teased.