family into the nobility and their descendants. Or something like that.
Again, there wasn’t so much carelessly discarded litter along the River Walk that day, now that the mad rush of Easter weekend was over. The last visitors making their way towards the turnstile seemed pleasant, too, wishing me good afternoon, which it might have been, if it hadn’t been for what Wayne had been hinting to Ned …
A little magic was already creeping back in by the waterfall, where silence, except for a little sweet birdsong, reigned once more. I let the atmosphere wash like balm across my sore conscience and felt better for it.
Ned was expecting me at the Hall at seven, for our first session on the papers, which would be fun – and maybe even exciting, if we found anything relating to the garden.
When I’d showered and changed, Caspar appeared and I told him I was going out, then suggested he might like to go back and make up to Elf and Myfy for a change, since they were the ones feeding him expensive cat food and dealing with his litter tray.
This didn’t go down well, especially my attempt to persuade him to return through the cat flap, and when I set off for the Hall, he insisted on accompanying me. In fact, he dogged my footsteps – you can’t really say ‘catted’, can you?
So when Ned opened his front door, he found Caspar barging past him before he could say anything.
‘Come in, why don’t you?’ he said, looking after the long bushy tail and marmalade rump as it made off down the passage.
Lizzie
I had no opportunity to visit the waterfall again, but treasured the memory of my experience there … But I did love the apothecary garden at Old Grace Hall, and Mr Richard Grace delighted in my interest and told me many wonderful things about the rare plants there, and how it had been set out so long ago as a physic garden.
Mr Grace’s wife had died young in childbirth, so he was inclined to be melancholy, but I believe he found some solace in talking to me and telling me of the cuttings and seeds of interesting plants he hoped to obtain for the garden.
Susanna, bored, would trail behind us and was always pleased when her governess called to us to go home again.
These visits were some compensation for the long, dreary Sundays spent with my family and the other Brethren.
Other than Miss Susanna and Master Neville, the rest of the family at Risings seemed barely aware of my existence, though occasionally the master, a large, red-faced man with a loud, booming voice, would chuck me under the chin in passing, a familiarity he took with all the younger female servants.
30
Box of Delights
I’d only been in the Hall once before, with Treena and Luke when Ned had showed us round. This time we went straight into the library, where the lights were on and the log-burner lit, making it look cosy.
An ancient, battered and metal-banded trunk and a plain deal box stood on the rug next to the coffee table, and neither was exactly small.
‘I’ve dipped into the boxes a couple of times and found interesting things, but I’d say the heir to each generation has simply tipped his predecessor’s papers into one of the boxes and started afresh … and then my great-uncle Theo came along and rummaged about in them, mixing the layers up. He did say that at one time he thought of writing a family history, but the way he was going on, it would have been a topsy-turvy one.’
‘This could take a while,’ I said, opening the lid on the trunk and finding it crammed right to the top.
‘I know, and the other box is just as full,’ Ned agreed.
Caspar poked his head into the trunk, then sneezed and backed off, looking affronted.
‘Perhaps we ought to order some food before we start, from the Lucky Dragon?’ Ned suggested.
‘Mmrow,’ approved Caspar from the armchair and listened intelligently as we discussed the rival merits of sweet and sour chicken, Singapore fried rice and prawn curry.
‘Sesame toast and spring rolls,’ Ned muttered, jotting things down before phoning the order in.
‘That’s enough for four people,’ I pointed out.
‘I eat enough for three,’ he said simply, turning off his phone. ‘There we are – we’ve got at least half an hour till it arrives, so we might as well begin.’
‘We need a plan,’ I said. ‘Since everything’s already mixed up, why don’t we start