The road under her wheels glowed white from the salt, and the recent snow, whilst gone from the tarmac, still sat heavily on the verges and fields. Grace liked winter, relishing the sense that the countryside was sleeping, preparing itself for what was to come; and as she drove, she admired the hills. She really did live in a beautiful part of the world.

The journey didn’t take long, and soon she was pulling into Ray’s street. She was looking for number 5, she knew. All those years ago, when the deeds were delivered to the Hall, Grace had made it her business to note down the address before Charles had a chance to squirrel the papers away. She had suggested they send the deeds to the family solicitor to store with the other important paperwork and Charles had nodded non-committally, but when she made enquiries with the solicitor’s clerk some weeks later, no deeds had been received by them. They must be tucked away in Charles’s office somewhere, she assumed.

Number 5 was the third house up from the sea. It was a tiny little place with just three windows and a door, and was painted a rich red with cream woodwork. It was quaint – just the ticket for a person living on their own. Grace, having lived in Hartsford Hall all her life, had often fantasised about what it might be like to live somewhere where you couldn’t get lost, where the rooms didn’t echo as you walked through them, that was cosy. This was exactly the kind of place. Yes, it would be odd having other people living so very close to you – just on the other side of the wall, in fact – but Grace thought she could probably get used to that. Other people managed it perfectly well, so why wouldn’t she? This house, whilst not being exactly what she had pictured herself in when imagining her other life, would do perfectly for future fantasies, and she drank in the details of the architecture, such as it was, so that she could retrieve them from her mind’s eye again later.

At the front there was a handkerchief-sized garden, a concrete path and a little wrought iron gate. It was completely lovely and Grace felt proud that even though Charles had shrouded the whole transaction in a veil of secrecy, he had managed to buy such a presentable house. No doubt Ray was very happy here, she thought.

Well, she had seen it now, and her curiosity was sated. She should probably just turn round and head back home, mission accomplished. There wasn’t even any need to get out of the car really, although maybe a brisk walk on the beach would be nice before she left. She should have brought some wellington boots.