Free Postcards from the Past by Marcia Willett Page A

possible that he’s lived this long. And suppose Tris has found some document…’
    ‘But then he or Andrew would have come back when Mother died. Why wait until now?’
    ‘I don’t know. But I think we need to be ready for anything.’
    ‘Oh my God.’
    ‘Can you think of any reason why Tris should want to see us again? After fifty years?’
    Ed shakes his head. ‘So what do we do?’
    ‘We try to think like he does and be prepared.’
    ‘But what if he has some … some real claim? Is it possible after all this time?’
    ‘I don’t know. I might talk to Dom to see if he knows anything about the legal situation. I don’t want to do anything until we know a bit more. Do you agree?’
    ‘I suppose so.’ Ed looks uncertain. ‘It’s just awful to think that he might have some hold over us.’
    Bear sits heavily on Billa’s feet, leaning against her, and she bends to hug the huge dog, comforted by his weight and presence.
    ‘I’ll phone Dom,’ says Ed. ‘And then we’ll make a plan.’

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Tilly drives between the tall pillars at the convent gates and stops beside the Lodge, wondering if someone might come out to question her. She feels oddly nervous; still trying to think of ways that she might promote a retreat house and wondering how to behave, should she meet any members of the religious community. The front door of the Lodge remains closed, nobody comes to challenge her, so she sets off very slowly along the drive, towards the ancient granite manor house set amongst its gardens and orchards at the head of a steep valley that looks west to the sea. There are a few people wandering along the path amongst the trees, a woman sitting on a bench, her stretched-out feet almost in a golden pool of crocuses that washes over the grass. These, Tilly guesses, must be the retreatants.
    The drive passes in front of the house, curving round towards some outbuildings, but Tilly stops to look at the mullioned windows and the heavy oaken door. Already she is imagining the photographs she will want for the website. The nervousness is receding and she is beginning to feel excited. As she dawdles there, words forming in her mind, a small, slight figure appears from the direction of the outbuildings. She wears a long blue habit, a green cotton scarf tied at the back of her neck, gumboots and a black fleece.
    Tilly’s anxiety returns but she lowers the car window and smiles at the enquiring face with its bright, intelligent eyes.
    ‘Hello,’ she says uncertainly. ‘I’m Tilly from U-Connect. I’m looking for Elizabeth.’
    The nun beams at her. ‘Have you come to help us?’ she asks. ‘Oh, how wonderful. Put the car round there,’ she gestures at the corner of the house, ‘and we’ll go to find her.’
    Tilly obeys. In the stable yard the Coach House has been converted, but there is room for the car in one of the open-fronted barns and she pulls in, switches off the engine and climbs out.
    ‘I am Sister Emily,’ says the small figure at her elbow. ‘What have you got there?’
    She looks with keen interest at Tilly’s laptop case and Tilly can’t help but smile at her eager curiosity.
    ‘It’s my laptop and stuff,’ she says. ‘I’m supposed to be helping you to create a new website for the retreat house. I’m rather nervous, I can tell you. We’ve never done anything like this before.’
    Briefly she wonders if Sister Emily, too, might quote Browning at her, or some encouraging religious text. But Sister Emily simply laughs with delight.
    ‘Neither have we,’ she says. ‘Isn’t it exciting?’
    Tilly laughs too. ‘Yes,’ she agrees, and suddenly all her fears vanish and she sees that it is exciting. ‘It’s utterly gorgeous here,’ she says. ‘We’ll need lots of lovely photographs for the website.’
    She follows Sister Emily in through a door that leads to the kitchen and looks around with delight at the low beamed room, the big, ancient inglenook with its Aga, the pots of