your mother looking after you?’
‘Yes, me and . . . well. Until Ma died. She died when I was ten, you know. Not long before the dam was built. Pa was glad she never had to see the village being demolished.’
Laura suddenly realised how little she knew of her grandmother’s early life. But now wasn’t the time to go into all of it. She had followed Stella’s directions and was now standing in front of the remains of Gran’s cottage. ‘Well, I’m here now. The walls of your cottage are about waist-high – the top parts have been demolished. There’s a window to the left of the door. I’m going in . . . there’s a fireplace opposite, quite large, like an inglenook fireplace. There’s . . .’
‘I wonder if they can find it?’ Gran’s voice sounded faint and tremulous.
‘Find what? And who do you mean by “they”?’ Laura asked.
‘It might still be there. After all this time. Too late, of course, but perhaps they can get it . . .’
‘Gran? Are you all right? Get what?’
‘The box. It might still be there, after all this time.’
‘What box? Where?’
‘Oh, the old tea caddy. It’s probably not still there. Not after being underwater all this time.’ Gran gave a huge sigh, and when she spoke again she sounded more like her usual self, to Laura’s relief. ‘Don’t mind me, Laura. I’m just a silly old woman, talking about a silly old thing that used to be in the cottage.’
‘Well, there’s nothing here now,’ Laura said, looking around her at the interior of the cottage. ‘Just some rubble, dried-out mud, a bit of driftwood. I’ll take some photos, then when I’m home we can look through them, if you’d like.’
‘Yes, that would be lovely, dear. Well, I’ll let you go now and you enjoy your holiday. I’ve got Sophia coming tonight to help me get ready for bed, so don’t you worry about me at all.’
‘Sophia’s lovely. I’m glad they’ve assigned her to you. I’ll ring again tomorrow.’
‘No need to ring every day, love. I’m perfectly all right.’
‘OK Gran, I won’t. Bye then. Love you.’
As she ended the call, Tom stepped forward into the cottage. He’d been hanging back, presumably so he didn’t overhear all of her conversation. He looked at her questioningly. ‘Was this where your grandmother lived?’
‘Yes, from what she said, she lived here. The building behind was her father’s workshop. And that one over there,’ Laura pointed out of the door, ‘was the pub. The Lost Sheep, it was called.’
‘Yes, I’ve seen some old photos of it. Had your gran ever heard of any Earnshaws?’
Laura shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t ask. I’ll ring her again tomorrow. Thing is, she was acting a little strangely so I didn’t want to bombard her with too many questions. It must be so weird for her, knowing that people are walking around the village, and in and out of her old home, for the first time in so many years.’ She decided not to mention Stella’s ramblings about a tea caddy.
Suddenly, Laura felt overheated and a little dizzy. The sun had been beating down on her head for hours, and there was no shelter out here in the middle of the lake. She sat on a low part of one of the cottage walls, pulled out a water bottle and drank, realising she was probably a little dehydrated.
‘You OK?’ Tom asked.
‘Too hot. I think I need to get into some shade.’
‘Come on. There are trees beside the car park. Do you have a hat you can put on, to keep the sun off your head?’
‘Yep. Back in my tent,’ Laura replied, with a rueful smile at him.
Tom shook his head in mock exasperation, then held out a hand to haul her to her feet. She took it gratefully. Unlike her own, hot, dry hand, his felt strong and cool.
‘Steady now,’ he said, as she stumbled slightly, her head spinning. He caught hold of her upper arms and held her until she got her balance.
‘Sorry. I’m all right now. Best get into that shade, though.’
He let go of her, but walked close beside her all the way back across the lake-bed to the car park. She noticed him taking little worried glances at her, and was grateful for his concern. She’d been stupid not to wear a hat. It might be September but the sun was still so strong.
At last they reached the car park, and found a bench hewn out of a tree trunk that was under the shade of a spreading oak, rather like the one Laura had pitched her tent beneath. She sat down, immediately feeling better now that she was in shade.
‘Can’t believe how hot it is, this late in the summer,’ Tom said.
She nodded. ‘I’m beginning to regret having walked here from the campsite. Obviously I’m not as fit as I’d thought.’
‘You walked?’ Tom looked back towards the Old Corpse Road. ‘I drove. I’d planned to have a quick look at Brackendale and then go for a walk up that ridge there, that leads onto Bracken Fell. But now I’m thinking I should drive you back to the campsite. That’s my car, over there.’ He pointed at an elderly, beaten-up estate car. ‘Come on. Let’s take you back to the campsite for a rest and get some liquid into you.’
It was a very tempting offer. Laura looked at him gratefully. She might have only just met the man but there was something about him that she liked. ‘Are you sure? I don’t want you to miss out on your walk.’
‘It’s too hot, anyway. I can do it some other day – I’m here all week.’ He stood, rummaged in a pocket for his car keys and clicked the unlock button. The car’s indicators flashed in response, and he crossed the car park to it and opened all the doors. ‘Wait a minute until some air’s blown through.’
The car was still stiflingly hot when Laura got in, but once they’d got going, with the windows wound right down, it cooled quickly. ‘Sorry the air conditioning doesn’t work,’ Tom said, as they drove past the dried-up lake. ‘Hey, in a minute we’ll pass the dam. Want to stop for a moment and take a look? I’ve a spare hat in here somewhere you can wear to keep the sun off.’
‘Sure, I’d love to see it,’ Laura replied. She was feeling better already from the breeze through the car and the water she’d drunk. A few moments later, Tom pulled into a small car park beside the dam. He rummaged around in the clutter strewn across the back seat of the car and retrieved a baseball cap, which proudly displayed the Munster Rugby club logo. ‘Sorry, best I can do, but it’ll help.’
‘It’s perfect,’ she said with a smile, and pulled it on. They walked over to where a low wall marked the edge of the car park, from where there was a view along the length of the dam on the lakeside. ‘Look, you can see how high the water level normally is,’ Laura said, pointing to marks near the top of the structure, a change of colour of the concrete. ‘Amazing to think how much water is normally held back by this.’
‘Yes, well, of course, all of the area we were walking around is normally well underwater,’ Tom replied. ‘Shame they don’t let the public walk across the top of the dam.’
Laura looked where he was pointing. There was a narrow walkway that led across the top of the dam to the far side of the valley. But a hefty locked iron gate barred access to it. ‘I suppose it’s not safe.’
‘Probably safer than some of the more hairy ridges up the mountains,’ Tom laughed. ‘Want to have a look at the information board over there?’ They walked over to it, and read the brief history and technical details of the dam. ‘Fifteen hundred feet long, fifty feet wide at the base, ninety feet high. Ugh. Don’t you wish it was all in metric?’
‘Yep. Good grief, what a lot of concrete they used.’ Laura peered closely at the pictures of