to the smaller red-hatted gnome, she slammed down the boot.
Climbing into the driver’s seat, she reflected how sad it was that Meredith’s possessions had been shoved into cardboard boxes and carted down to the local auction house to be sold for peanuts and scattered to the four winds. Those visits had only lasted a couple of years, until her parents’ divorce had been finalised, and the house in Hickory Street, with only Mum, Maisie and Zoe rattling around, had been sold. They moved into a modern box-like flat closer to the town centre and the secondary school. But in those two years, the neighbour who had previously only called a cheery hello over the fence offered a refuge to them both. She’d been an escape from the squabbling of her teenage siblings and company for her mum who, looking back now, must have been so terribly lonely.
And as Maisie turned the ignition key an amusing thought entered her head as she wondered if the collection of gnomes had also belonged to Meredith.
‘Hi, sweetie. Just checking in with the family. Or rather, speaking to you to find out what they’re all up to. Ringing everyone individually is so tedious. You can get me up to speed,’ Lisa’s singsong voice gushed down the phone.
It was Saturday evening and Maisie was in the car park of Willow Tree House about to help her mother with a programme of activities for the residents. For some it would be a quiet hour doing jigsaws whilst others would engage in the more raucous Wii Sports. Maisie enjoyed a game of tennis but only when she could play it sitting down – Zoe’s sporty gene seemingly only present in one-quarter of the Meadows siblings.
‘We’re good,’ Maisie replied. ‘Any chance of a visit soon? Mum said there’s always a bed for you at hers.’ Her oldest sister hadn’t been down to Suffolk in over a year. Lisa had mentally distanced herself from the family before imposing a physical distance, but even the guilt trips home were becoming fewer and further apart.
‘Too busy, babe. Too busy. Absolutely rushed off my feet. Haven’t you seen my Insta?’
With her job at a large television studio outside York, Lisa rubbed shoulders with an array of celebrities and attended a wild assortment of glitzy functions that resulted in a never-ending stream of social media posts depicting her successful and exciting life. She had been what their mother called a spirited child and that spirit had found a home in the busy and equally dramatic world of television production. ‘Besides, you know Mum rubs me up the wrong way. Always asking prying questions.’
‘She asks because she cares, Lisa. She’s interested in what you do.’
‘But she knows there’s things I can’t talk about; I have to stay professional and all that. You can’t name-drop just because Ryan has flown in to film some scenes outside the Minster. You’d lose your job.’
‘Wow. Reynolds?’ Maisie was impressed. ‘Or Gosling?’
‘Couldn’t possible say, sweetie. And as for Mum, what I can share is on the socials for everyone to see. But it’s so chaotic up here right now, you wouldn’t believe. I barely have time for a toilet break, never mind a day off work, and if I’m not working I’m partying – which is basically the same thing.’
Any hopes Maisie had to see Lisa in the immediate future were dashed. There was a glugging sound as her sister topped up a glass at the other end and Maisie consoled herself with the fact it wasn’t an outright no. Perhaps she could travel up to York and pay her sister a visit. After all, if the mountain wouldn’t come to the bosom of the family, the family could catch a train up to her.
‘So – how are things at the antique shop?’ Lisa asked, followed by a slurp.
‘Auction house.’
‘Same thing.’
Although a large number of antiques went through their hands, Gildersleeve’s was about so much more. They had an enormous yard, for a start, a concrete space behind the two barns where an open-air auction was held for larger items, like timber and architectural salvage. And Saleroom One was practically a huge charity shop full of household paraphernalia and unwanted domestic appliances. You could hardly describe a second-hand toaster as antique. But even if she took the trouble to explain to Lisa, her sister would forget. It wasn’t something she needed to remember, like when the new season of Love Island was starting, so she invariably switched off.
‘I’m finding my feet but I love it. Although, after assaulting one of the managers by mistake I’m lucky to still have a job.’ And she told her sister about her run-in with Theo.
‘Ooo. Young? Single? Sexy?’ Lisa asked.
‘Five or six years older than me, definitely not single but, yeah, sexy in a Robinson Crusoe kind of way.’
She could appreciate Theo was attractive even if he was unavailable. In fact, if she was honest, she was torn between the massive disappointment that she wasn’t on his carnal radar, and relief that there would be no boss-employee romantic shenanigans after the Wickerman’s fiasco.
‘Shame. Mum told me Gareth turned out to be a non-starter. Actually, that’s not true. She said he was a rotten two-timing git, just like our father, who deserved to have his genitals severed from his body and run up a flagpole to see if anyone would salute them. Then she cried a bit and said she hoped she hadn’t passed on the genetic predisposition to attract skirt-chasers to you. Skirt-chasers? I mean, where does she get her expressions from?’
That sounded like their mother. The poor woman simply couldn’t let go of the hurt, but it was hard not to smile at some of her more imaginative plans for revenge.
There were a couple of hearty slurps and then Lisa said, ‘Men can be such pigs.’
‘I’m over it now,’ Maisie said, because working at Gildersleeve’s had reminded her there were plenty of decent people about. She’d been unlucky and Gareth was an idiot. ‘It’s having company in the evenings I miss the most. You know? Someone to talk to when—’ She was about to offload to her sister when Lisa cut in.
‘Great, don’t let the bastards get you down. Anyway, gotta go. Heading out shortly to try my hand at speed-dating. Never done it before but sounds like it might be a laugh.’ For a woman in her mid-thirties, Lisa certainly lived life to the full, with an almost teenage air about her lifestyle. In their different ways, Ben and Lisa had clung on to the blind optimism and unaccountability of youth and Maisie was slightly jealous. ‘Then I’ll hit the bars and work my way through a few of bottles of Prosecco with the girls. It’s been an exhausting week but the party never stops.’
Maisie wished she had a fraction of the social life her sister did but consoled herself with the knowledge she had an immaculate, chocolate-box house – albeit rented. Shame she didn’t have more people round to appreciate her top-notch domestic skills. Lisa might have bombed academically but there was no denying she’d soared professionally. Whatever it was Lisa actually did, she was moving in exalted media circles and every member of the Meadows family was proud of her.
‘Yes, I need to make a move.’ Maisie looked anxiously at her dashboard clock, as being late was not something she allowed herself to do. She didn’t elaborate on her agenda, however, as Lisa wouldn’t be quite as dazzled by her plans to spend her Saturday evening hanging out with octogenarians and drinking tea.
A week later and Maisie felt she’d undergone a second settling-in period at work. Just when she’d got things at Gildersleeve’s sussed, a new staff member had been thrown into the mix. Johnny conveniently forgot to mention she’d have to defer to Theo as well and she felt uneasy that the pair of them might be discussing her performance together at home of an evening.
‘Excuse me, Maisie,’ Arthur said, knocking respectfully on the office door, even though it was wide open. The week had seen the whole spectrum of weather from wet and windy to dry and crisp – sometimes within the space of minutes, but at that moment bright