Miriam's Talisman by Elenor Gill Page B

coated in mud.’ She left the room, her voice trailing behind her. ‘Mind you, it had to be that awful dump of a cottage, but at least it had hot running water and indoor plumbing. By then I was old enough to go straight into the local high school and I started to make friends. In fact people were impressed when they found out who my mother was. That took some getting used to. But we weren’t different here. That’s so important, Chloe, to be the same, to fit in. If you try to set yourself apart, you only cause yourself pain.’
    I looked around Hannah’s neat little house, the ruffled curtains and the display cabinet of crystal glasses that were polished so meticulously. I’d never thought of her as hurt and vulnerable before. I followed her into the kitchen where she was filling the bowl with soapy water and wrestling with the coffee plunger.
    â€˜At least Miriam’s money will guarantee you a secure future. You and Paul are going to have such a good start, and I’m happy for you both, really I am. And we can begin to make plans for the wedding. There’s no reason to put it off now, is there? You’ll be able to afford your own home. Once the cottage is cleared and up for sale, you can start looking round for property. You’ll be able to afford something really nice, too. I noticed there are some new buildings going up near the science park, three- and four-bedroom detached …’
    I didn’t hear anything else she might have said; my mind had hooked on to three words. Cottage…for sale. I felt something rising in my stomach. A heaviness, a pressure, which at first I couldn’t identify. I thought it might be anticipation, or maybe just confusion, but then, as it started to tighten, I realised that it was fear.

Six
    I WAS EXPECTING RAIN .
    I thought it always rained at funerals, death symbolised by all those umbrellas at the graveside like a field of black, decaying mushrooms. But no, there was no rain that day, no abundance of tears to wash the faces of those who could not weep. Instead the morning sprang to life with dazzling sunshine that splintered my eyes and dripped from the trees like breakfast honey.
    I had arrived at the cottage early, thinking there would be a lot to do. As it turned out, there wasn’t. The little band of caterers arrived and commandeered the kitchen. They asked me to clear the dining table of Miriam’s papers, but I forbade them to touch anything, and they were forced to set up a trestle table and spread it with a white, starch-glazed cloth. It looked like a huge wedding cake awaiting decoration. Clearly put out by my refusal to co-operate, the caterers, too, became glazed and starchy, indicating that I was in the way.
    So, I had nothing to do and nowhere to go. I wandered through the garden, snapping the dew from spider’s webs and stirring up newly fallen leaves. The bright flowers ofsummer were all but over, making way for the subtler hues of amber-tinged foliage and yellowing grasses. I decided to gather some and arrange them in vases in the house. They would make a pleasing contrast to the garish carpet of reds, pinks and purples that had been creeping up either side of the front path since early morning. People had entered the gate in reverent silence, then slipped away unnoticed, leaving flowers swathed in crackling cellophane, with copperplate cards bearing messages for the deceased. Who did they think would read them? Were they expecting Miriam to open the door herself and walk down the garden, pausing to inspect each card politely before stepping into the hearse? Unaccustomed to the bizarre rituals, I felt lost and useless.
    I meandered from room to room, picking up various objects and carefully replacing them. The air seemed charged with the faintest tingle of excitement, the cause of which I could not define. But I knew that something was about to happen.
    In Miriam’s bedroom I sat down at the dressing