The Girl in the Scrapbook by Carolyn Ruffles (reading women TXT) 📕

fire … Her thoughts began to drift. It would have been a hard life; was it a happy one?

She turned her attention back to Jennifer who had produced a box of toys from behind one of the sofas.

‘Would you like to see if there is anything you would like to play with, Alex?’ Jennifer said, giving him an encouraging smile.

He looked up at her and his blue eyes travelled across to the box but then he shook his head.

‘He’s just a bit shy at the moment,’ Emily explained. ‘That’s very kind of you. I’m sure he’ll want to have a look in a moment. Perhaps, when he’s finished his biscuit and then we’ll maybe have a little walk around the village before it gets dark.’

‘There’s a children’s playground near the village hall. I’m sure he’d like that,’ said Jennifer, handing over a mug of tea.

‘It’s a lovely village,’ Emily smiled politely. ‘I noticed the play area when I drove in. It’s just before the High Street, isn’t it? The setting is beautiful too. Have you lived here long?’

Jennifer shook her head and briefly outlined her retirement from teaching, the renovation of the cottage and her decision to venture into the world of commerce. ‘I’m afraid you’re only my second proper customers.’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t like to say that on the phone in case it put you off! May I ask what made you decide to choose Horseshoes Cottage?’

‘I saw the article in the magazine supplement and I fell in love with it straight away. My husband Adam is away on business and, when I read the piece about the cottage and the village, I thought it would be an ideal opportunity to have a break myself.’ A bland answer, Emily thought. Although Jennifer seemed very pleasant, she was reluctant to share anything too personal so soon, especially as Jennifer was a newcomer to the village herself. She would be unlikely to know much about the cottage’s past. Still, it was worth a try.

‘Do you know anything about the history of the cottage,’ she asked, ‘or anything about the people who lived here? I’m especially interested in that kind of thing.’

‘Are you? Me too. Sorry. Since I moved in, I’ve been too busy to do any research but apparently, there’s someone in the village who has been compiling an archive of local history. I’d love to know if she’s found out anything about this place. It’s on my ‘to do’ list.’

‘Cool.’ Emily felt a small frisson of excitement. ‘Perhaps you could give me a number to contact them? While I’m staying, it would be great to get to know a bit about the place. I looked it up online before I came and all the stuff about the church and how the village has grown is fascinating but it’s the people who really interest me.’

Jennifer frowned. ‘I can’t actually remember her name at the moment. I’m sure it will come to me, perhaps by the time you come back from your walk.’

‘Right. Well, thank you for the tea and biscuits. They were delicious. We should get going. By the time I get Alex all togged up and the buggy out of the car, the best part of the afternoon will already be over.’

Ten minutes later, they made their way down the narrow lane back towards the village. It was a grey, blustery afternoon, with a chill nip in the air, and Emily was glad of her soft, red leather gloves and bright, red scarf – Christmas presents from Adam. She wheeled the buggy into the main street and negotiated a path along the slightly uneven pavement past the shops and cafes. There were a few antique shops and some selling bric-a-brac and local produce, as well as a number of charity shops. The Plough also sat on the High Street, right in the centre of the village, advertising great food and real ales. She passed a road on her right which led to the church, standing tall and proud on the crest of an incline, and another on her left which was signposted School Road.

At this point, the historic character of the village gave way to more modern, residential lanes and cul de sacs, smart, detached houses jostling for space with featureless terraces and squat bungalows. After a further five minutes walking, having passed another pub, The Fox and Hare, Emily reached the children’s play area and she glanced briefly at her watch so she would know how long to allow for the return journey. Twenty minutes in total. There were four other children, all older than Alex, already there and two mums were busy engaged in conversation, sitting nearby on a bench. Emily directed a smile their way as she helped Alex out of his buggy but they appeared not to notice her.

Alex had become animated as soon as he had seen the swings and headed straight for them as fast as his chubby, little legs would allow. ‘Swing, mummy. Push me!’ he demanded and she hefted him into the bright, blue swing seat. ‘More. Make me go higher!’ he giggled, as he swung back and forth.

‘Ok, superman,’ she said. ‘Let me know when you’ve had enough.’

While she was on pushing duty, Emily took stock of this part of the village. The play area had been recently renovated; all the equipment was bright and shiny and secured in a base of rubber matting. Beyond it was a large field with a football pitch marked out and to the south was a car park and a sprawling brick building which comprised the main village hall as well as a separate bar and changing rooms, all signposted. On the drive in, Emily had noticed that this end of the village was the most densely populated. She had passed three, newish-loking estates and another which was a work in progress. The village was a real mix of old and new yet both kept separate from each other.

It was some while before Alex