in a black car paid for by the water company and driven by a uniformed chauffeur, with Jessie on his lap. It was the second time he’d been driven this route by a chauffeur, he thought, remembering the journey back from Edie’s funeral in Mrs Pendleton’s motorcar. A different daughter accompanied him this time.
At Glydesdale Church, the reburial was quick and no-nonsense, with the vicar saying a few simple prayers as the coffin was lowered into the newly dug grave. Afterwards, Jed took Jessie to visit Edie’s grave, in the older graveyard beside the church. He pulled up some weeds from around the headstone and laid a bunch of bluebells beside it.
‘Look, Jessie. Mama’s there,’ he said.
The child stared at the gravestone and shrugged. ‘Mama gone to heaven,’ she said, parroting the words Jed and Stella had used to explain her mother’s absence. She ran off to hide behind another gravestone, giggling. Jed sighed. So soon after Edie’s death and it seemed that already Jessie was forgetting her. He supposed that in time, she’d forget her completely. But he couldn’t help but smile too. That giggle of Jessie’s was an infectious sound that always gladdened his heart. So much better to hear than the tantrums she’d had earlier in Brackendale!
‘What a simply adorable child. Is she yours, Mr Walker?’
Jed stood, startled by the voice, and found himself once more facing Alexandria Pendleton. He removed his cap. ‘Yes, ma’am. She’s my youngest. Jessie, come here. This isn’t a place for playing.’
In response, Jessie just giggled again and climbed upon a full-length tomb, which to Jed’s horror bore the name Pendleton on the side.
‘Jessie, get down off there! It isn’t for playing on. Ma’am, I apologise. She’s not quite three years old and knows no better.’
But Mrs Pendleton was smiling, and waved her hand dismissively. ‘It’s perfectly all right. A child of that age does not understand death, and she’s within her rights to play when she gets the chance to.’
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ Jed replied.
‘Are you here to pay your respects to Edie?’ Mrs Pendleton asked. ‘It’s a long way to come, especially with your little one.’ She was still watching Jessie play.
‘Yes, but also to see my ma’s remains reinterred,’ Jed replied. ‘They’re moving all the graves from Brackendale Green to here, before the valley is flooded.’
Mrs Pendleton nodded. ‘Ah, yes. I was part of the church committee, agreeing to have the graves moved here. I’ve been here today to oversee the process. I am sorry one of them is your mother’s. It must be very difficult for you.’
‘Aye, but if she’s here along with Edie I can visit them both together.’ Jed realised that throughout their conversation, Mrs Pendleton had not taken her eyes off Jessie once. He squirmed a little. The child’s coat was covered with mud from having rolled on the ground at St Isidore’s. ‘Jessie, come here and say hello to the lady.’
The little girl for once did as she was told and skipped over, slipping her hand into her father’s. ‘Hello, lady,’ she said.
‘Hello to you too, little miss,’ Mrs Pendleton said, crouching down to speak to Jessie at her own level. ‘What a pretty child you are.’
Jessie’s response was just to giggle and run away again, leaving Mrs Pendleton smiling indulgently after her. ‘What a lovely sound a child’s laughter is,’ she said, almost in a whisper.
There was a gentle beep on a car’s horn, and Jed realised it was the black car, ready to return to Brackendale Green. The hearse had already made its return journey. The schedule was for four exhumations and reburials each day, and it was time they went back, or he’d be left with no lift.
‘Beg pardon, ma’am, but we must go now, the motorcar’s waiting.’
She nodded, still watching Jessie, as he fetched the child and took her back to the car. There was something odd about her gaze. It was full of longing, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Perhaps she was simply disapproving of Jessie’s muddy clothes. He held Jessie tightly in the car on the way back to Brackendale. She was a handful, but such a precious little thing.
It was two days later that the discovery was made. The exhumations were about a quarter done, when the gravediggers reached the not-quite-final resting place of Martha Atkins. There was quite a crowd waiting behind the screens for Martha’s remains to be brought out and loaded into the hearse, for she had been the grandmother of Maggie Earnshaw, and mother of Janie Earnshaw and also of Janie’s simpleton sister, Susie. All were standing solemnly waiting for the moment when the new casket would be carried out from behind the screen. Even Susie was to go with them to Glydesdale – Martha was her mother too, Janie had said, and besides, there was no one else available to keep an eye on her.
Jed passed by with Jessie as they stood waiting, and although Maggie glared at him he felt he should stop and pay his respects. He knew how emotional an occasion it was. Stella was at school and Jessie was, for once, behaving herself, so he decided to wait a while until the hearse left.
‘How do, Janie. Hello, Susie,’ he said, and nodded at Maggie who turned her face away. ‘It’s not easy, is it, this?’
‘No. But it’s got to be done,’ Janie replied. ‘I’m glad for you that Edie did not have to be moved.’
‘They’re moving Ma,’ Susie said, her round face gazing up at him, her eyes sad and worried.
‘They are, Susie, lass, you’re right.’ She was looking old these days, and indeed must be well past fifty, though he always thought of her as a child. He always had done, even though she was a generation older than him. She had that simple, childlike face and way of speaking. Even now, she was holding Janie’s hand, and shuffling her feet in the dirt.
‘Don’t want them to move her,’ she said, pushing her bottom lip outwards.
‘They have to, Susie. I told you, it’s so we’ll still be able to visit her, even after the village is gone,’ Janie told her sister gently.
‘Don’t want the village to go,’ Susie replied.
‘Oh no, please don’t let her start a tantrum, not now,’ Janie whispered, raising her eyes to the heavens.
Jed thought quickly, trying to come up with something to distract Susie, but Maggie was quicker. ‘Don’t worry, Aunty Susie. Remember what I told you about the cake we’re going to make for tea? With jam inside, and buttercream as well, and you can sprinkle the icing sugar on the top.’
‘And the first slice for me?’ Susie said, raising her round eyes to Maggie’s.
‘Of course. And we are going to do this as soon as we get back from moving your ma.’
Susie looked conflicted for a moment, as though deciding whether to protest against the moving of her mother, or continue to be happy about the prospect of cake for tea. But as Jed had seen so many times before, her natural happy nature won out and she smiled broadly. ‘We’re having cake for tea,’ she announced.
‘Cake for me too?’ asked Jessie, slipping her small hand into Susie’s chubby one.
‘If you like,’ Susie said, beaming down at Jessie, and the crisis was over.
There was some commotion going on behind the screens. Janie frowned. ‘What are they shouting about now?’
‘I’ll look,’ Jed said, and he pushed through a gap in the screens, leaving Jessie still holding Susie’s hand. He expected to be told to get back, but the three men – two gravediggers and an overseer – were all crouched on the ground, peering at something they’d dug up. The new coffin stood empty beside them – they had not yet dug deep enough to reach Martha’s remains. ‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Something odd in the grave,’ the overseer said. ‘We weren’t expecting this.’
‘Course