The Hardie Inheritance by Anne Melville Page B

history. It’s not expected that I shall actually study any history, but as a matter of fact I’m rather keen on it. Here at Castlemere, for instance. Generations of the same family living in the house. And atthe same time, you know, generations of farmers and craftsmen on the estate. We have an old carpenter who does repairs in the house, and it was one of his ancestors who fixed the panelling in the long gallery you saw this morning. I like thinking about that sort of thing. But talking of Oxford –’
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜Well, I did wonder. It’s the Lagonda, you see. I gather there are lots of petty rules about undergraduates not keeping their own cars within so many miles of Carfax. I wondered whether it might be possible for me to garage her with you, and come up by cab whenever I feel like a run.’
    A month earlier Grace would have said – and believed – that she had no wish for visitors and no need of new acquaintances. How unexpectedly the events of the past few days had changed her attitude! As she held out her hand in farewell, she surprised herself by the sincerity of her words.
    â€˜Of course. Then I shall see you again. Good.’

Chapter Eight
    Grace saw Andy for the first time after the confrontation in her bedroom when she attended his father’s funeral. It was an awkward meeting. She longed to make some gesture which would tell him how much she still loved him, but knew that her earlier decision was the right one: he belonged to another woman. Was there any way in which she could express a hope that they would remain friends? She searched for the right words, but failed to find them.
    Andy, doubtless still puzzled and hurt by his rejection, avoided her eye as he supported his mother at the graveside. Only when Mrs Frith was expressing her thanks for the flowers which had come from Greystones, and for the promise that she could remain in the cottage, did he speak directly to the Hardies – and then it was merely to confirm that his son would soon arrive and be at their disposal. Grace told herself that everything had turned out as she wanted it, and tried to be cheerful about it.
    In this she was helped by the arrival of her aunt that evening. Midge Hardie, after marrying at a later age than usual to become Midge Witney, had been widowed three years previously and returned to the annual routines of her earlier life as a schoolmistress. She was sixty-seven now, but her energetic nature made it impossible for her to sit idly at home. So she took private pupils for individual coaching during the three academic terms, and spent a month each summer in Switzerland. As usual, she came to Greystones for a meal soon after returning to her house in North Oxford.
    For once, after listening to a description of her vacation,the Hardies had news of their own to pass on. Midge had spent many holidays at Greystones, but it had never been her home; so the gardener’s death did not touch her deeply. Of far more interest was the visit of Ellis Faraday. His father had once been her lover.
    â€˜I never met Patrick’s family,’ she said. Her illicit relationship had been a deep secret at the time, but the need for comfort after his death in action brought the subject into the open. ‘Although there was no divorce, his wife had left him and taken the children to Ireland before he and I ever met.’
    â€˜The Faradays don’t seem to be very good at marriage,’ commented Mrs Hardie. ‘This Mr Faraday is equally unencumbered – except by his daughter.’
    â€˜I wonder – thinking about his book of photographs – whether he knows about the school buildings which Patrick designed. Do you expect to see him again, Grace?’
    â€˜Yes.’ Grace flushed slightly. ‘He expressed some interest in my carving. He’ll be back at Greystones in three weeks’ time. Come and meet him while he’s here.’
    They continued to