Page 38 of Watch For Me By Candlelight

Theo nodded towards it. ‘Does it still work?’

‘Oh, yes. He still pops out and says “hello” to me. And strikes the hours. I adore him. But come on. I’ll lock up properly and then I’ll take you through into the proper museum. Hurrying around an hour before closing is fine, but nothing beats really looking at it.’

* * *

Theo followed Kate into the first room. She led him over to a case filled with little bits of paper and other oddments. She smiled. ‘This is lovely and wasn’t here last time you came — it’s things they found when they were renovating the old school building. Ephemera that must have dropped out of pockets or been stuffed in the floorboards by bored children.’

She pointed out sketches of airplanes and soldiers, and explained that during the war, evacuees were assembled there before being farmed off to families in the surrounding countryside. She showed him old chocolate bar wrappers and scrappy bits of schoolwork that had been lost to time; and, comically, one boy’s school report. He hadn’t done very well, and Theo wasn’t surprised he’d ‘misplaced’ the report before it got home.

‘They should really be in the school-room exhibit, but they’re sort of in-transit. Like I say, they’re quite new to us, and we haven’t got the space sorted out yet. But it was a shame to not display them.’

Kate continued to show him other interesting things that visitors might just skip past if they hurried through — love knots made of plaited corn, tiny Elizabethan embroidery scissors, pearl-buttoned gloves, and a miniature of someone alleged to be Catherine Howard, Henry VIII’s fifth wife.

‘This has never been verified, of course.’ Kate ran her fingers lovingly over the glass-topped display. ‘But as she was from Norfolk, and had lots of lovers, you never know.’

Theo suddenly laughed. ‘She was a Kate too, in some quarters!’

‘She was. And in fact, we actually have the same name — but it’s spelled differently. I’m Kathryn Howard, K-a-t-h-r-y-n. My brother’s Tom. Thomas. Our parents have a warped sense of humour!’

‘Wonderful! What’s this?’ Theo pointed to something that looked like an instrument of torture. ‘It’s like a pair of scissors with something weird on the end!’

Kate laughed. ‘Eyelash curlers. They look painful, don’t they? Just wait until we get to the medical equipment. Oh, and the dental things.’ She grinned. ‘One of the cottages further through is like a kitchen, you might remember? There’s strange stuff in there too — hand whisks and butter pats and the most fantastic sugar scissors for snipping off bits of sugar from a proper sugar cone. Makes you glad to have modern conveniences.’

Theo followed her through the museum, through the kitchen and the promised medical equipment, fascinated by the things she was telling him. It was much better than his whizz round the first time he’d been here. He had missed so much. ‘So what’s your favourite thing in here?’ he asked as they stood in the room that led into the school room, and beyond that into the cosy-looking cottage at the end.

‘Ah, you asked me in exactly the right cottage. These.’ Kate pointed to a pair of ice-skates; rather battered looking and clearly repaired, residing next to a display of invitations and calling cards Theo could see were from the Hall.

He pointed at the blades. ‘That one’s been sort of soldered together. Can you see?’

‘Do you think so?’ Her voice was slightly strangled, and Theo looked at her quickly. She was staring at the skates, and had gone white. ‘I thought they had. I’m just surprised you—’

‘You’d never know unless you worked with metal all day,’ he replied, casting an expert glance over them. ‘I think if they were being worn at the time, it might have caused someone a bit of agony, if they tumbled over and managed to smash them up that well.’

Kate nodded, still staring at the skates; then she surprised him again. ‘Would you like to hold them? I always think you get a better idea of an object if you handle it.’

‘Could I?’ He cast another glance at the craftsmanship and nodded. ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’

‘Certainly.’ She looked up and pointed through the cottages to the cosy one at the end. ‘Do you want to go in there and wait while I get them out of the cabinet? I need a key.’ She smiled. ‘Make yourself at home. It’s the Blacksmith’s cottage, the one I mentioned from the Earl’s letter; but his furnace still needs some attention. It’s just rubble outside the cottages at the minute. You might remember it as a big pile of stones from when you were here before.’

Theo meandered through the school room, and smiled at the board and the tiny ink wells. He paused by the long, low row of wooden desks, and bent to a slate. Unable to resist, he picked up the stubby pencil lying beside it and scratched a meaningless squiggle onto the black surface, joining numerous other squiggles and carefully written children’s names. Then he headed into the end cottage.

Almost immediately, a feeling rushed over him that was at once warm and familiar and welcoming. The last time he had been here, it had just felt like another museum room; but then, he reasoned, he hadn’t known Kate and she seemed to be making all the difference.

He smiled around at the room, and imagined it how it must have been, all those years ago. He walked over to the window and peered out at the grass and the river beyond, then moved over to the little wooden back door. He tried the handle and it turned easily, so he pushed the door open and stared out at the late Suffolk afternoon.

It was beautiful out there. He looked to the right, expecting to see Kate’s little walled garden further along, but the grass just ran up to the edge of the stone cottages. He shrugged. Her garden must be on the corner or hidden by the overgrown shrubs he saw in clusters on the grassland.

From the left, he heard a tap, tap, tapping sound and the gentle hiss of bellows. Then a whoosh, as a flame burst into life, heralded by the whinny of a nearby horse. Excellent. She’d managed to go some way to restoring the old furnace building at least; and she must have one of those recordings in the building to add some atmosphere. He closed the door and stepped back inside the room, smiling.

He looked down, sure he’d caught something as he moved. He expected to see a footstool or something, but there was nothing obvious, just the sound of a dog sneezing somewhere behind him. He turned, surprised, wondering if one had snuck in when the door was open. He scanned the room; nothing was out of place and the white-washed walls gleamed back at him, softly reflecting the flames in the grate. He looked up at the door he’d come through, and stared, thrown for a minute. The wall was smooth, and there was no doorway to be seen. And the fire? Had that been burning when he came in? He hadn’t noticed. If she was closing up, it would need damping down—

He spun around, to see a cold, empty grate, and turned again to the connecting door. Kate was just coming through it, smiling apologetically. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It took me a few minutes to find the keys. Jenna had put them back on the wrong hook. Here they are. Our ice-skates.’ She held them up for his inspection.

Theo shook his head, blinking to clear the image of the fire and the blank wall that had invaded his mind. This place was certainly very atmospheric.

‘Hey. Thanks.’ He smiled, dismissing the images as his imagination working overtime. ‘I love what you’ve done with the furnace so far. I was just looking outside and heard the recording.’

‘What recording?’ Kate frowned. ‘I haven’t done anything with the furnace. It’s still a pile of rubble.’ She pushed her hair out of her face, nervously, he thought. ‘There’s nothing there. Although this is the old blacksmith’s cottage, like I said. He’s got a horseshoe on the door, which I like to think he made himself.’