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Even though living in Rowan Vale, you got used to the idea that there were ghosts around, it must still be a heck of a disturbance to see someone you’ve loved suddenly turn up as a spirit. Poor Grandad must have been beside himself.

Bit like Aunt Polly , I thought, before chastising myself for my dark sense of humour.

‘Of course, he begged her to tell him who’d done this to her, but she said she didn’t know.

She’d just been walking along one minute and the next, she’d found herself out of her own body, looking down on that lifeless form with no idea what had gone on.

Whoever it was had shot her in the back, so she likely didn’t hear or see anyone coming up behind her.

’ He shook his head. ‘In a way, I suppose it was a blessing. She didn’t suffer. She swore that to Dad.’

‘So what did he do?’

‘He didn’t know what to do. He was in such a state, but Polly took charge.

She told him to run and fetch Sir Edward and he’d sort everything out.

He didn’t want to leave her, but she insisted, so he went running off to Harling Hall and fetched Sir Edward, and then Sir Edward and his gamekeeper took charge after that and sent Dad home to break the news to his parents. ’

‘Sir Edward?’ I murmured. ‘Why did Polly want Grandad to fetch him ?’

‘Well…’ Dad shrugged. ‘I suppose because he owned the estate, and everyone looked to him to take charge.’

‘But why not ask Grandad to call the police?’ I said, baffled. ‘Why Sir Edward, of all people?’

‘She’d just been shot dead, Shona,’ he pointed out.

‘I shouldn’t think either her or your grandad were thinking that clearly.

Anyway, like I said, Sir Edward took charge from that point, and he was brilliant, by all accounts.

He took care of all the funeral arrangements and paid for it an’ all.

And he spoke to the police and informed Uncle Ray for them and was basically worth his weight in gold. ’

‘How did Uncle Ray take it?’ I asked, having heard that he’d already been in quite a state when he’d left to live in Northumberland.

‘Badly,’ Dad said grimly. ‘Your Uncle Ray adored his big sister, as did my dad. They idolised Charlie too, you know. He was like a big brother to him and to your grandad. Ray only enlisted because he wanted to be like him. He was too young, but he added a year to his age, and they didn’t question it too closely.

Gran was heartbroken. She’d thought he’d be safe because he worked on the farm and didn’t have to fight, but he insisted he wanted to do his bit, like Charlie.

‘Of course, a year later, Charlie was dead. Ray made it to the end but paid a high price. He needed a fresh start and Sir Edward got him a job on a farm in Northumberland, working for a friend of his. He’d only been there a week when the news came through about Polly and he was devastated.

According to his new boss, he only lasted a few weeks in the job and then cleared off somewhere.

Said he couldn’t cope with it all. He never came home.

Another casualty of war most likely. Reckon it’s a good thing they never knew what happened to him because my dad says another dead child would have finished Gran off.

She was that broken up about Polly, she was never the same again. ’

‘But Polly was still around,’ I pointed out.

‘Remember, your great-gran was like our Christie,’ he said sadly. ‘She couldn’t see Polly’s ghost. Fair broke her heart.’

‘Of course! Oh no…’ I couldn’t imagine anything so painful as what Aunt Polly’s mum – my great-grandmother – had been through.

To lose Polly and then not be able to see her spirit when other members of her family could.

Devastating. I sipped my tea, thinking about what Dad had told me.

He’d painted quite a picture, and I could see why Aunt Polly didn’t like to talk about it.

Even so…

‘Dad,’ I said hesitantly, ‘you don’t think Sir Edward and Polly…?’

He frowned. ‘Sir Edward and Polly what?’

I cleared my throat. ‘Well, er?—’

‘Shona Deakin!’

‘Bannerman,’ I said weakly.

‘I don’t care who you are, don’t you ever dare talk like that about your Aunt Polly again, do you hear me? As if she’d carry on with a married man! Who’s put that idea in your head? Oh, let me guess. Max Janssen.’

‘Meyer. His name’s Max Meyer. And don’t blame him! He’s a lovely man. He’s just trying to find out what happened and what upset his grandfather so much that he only mentioned Rowan Vale on his deathbed.’

‘That’s probably down to guilt,’ Dad said crossly. ‘And what do you mean, he’s a lovely man?’

I gulped. ‘Nothing.’

‘Don’t tell me you really have got a thing for that fella,’ Dad said, sounding horrified at the thought of it. ‘I was having you on about that. I never thought you really liked him.’

‘We’re straying from the point here, Dad,’ I said. ‘Is there any chance that Sir Edward?—?’

‘I won’t hear a word said against that man,’ Dad said, banging his cup down on the coffee table.

‘He did everything he could to ease things for our family. He created the teashop, he gave your gran and Polly jobs there, he even named it Deakin’s!

He got your poor old Uncle Ray to Northumberland to start again, he dealt with all the paperwork and official business when Pol died, and he renamed the teashop in her honour.

He was a good, kind man, and I don’t want you casting no aspersions about him.

And you can tell your friend that an’ all! ’

He stood up and I gave him a pleading look. ‘Don’t get all huffy, Dad. Where are you going?’

Dad straightened. ‘To my room,’ he said, with dignity. ‘I shall watch that Clint Eastwood DVD from the comfort of my own bed, thank you very much.’