had been rebooted by the fresh air and the long walk that morning. Before, she’d always had a very healthy attitude to food; a high metabolism and a busy work schedule had demanded it as fuel to function. She had always eaten what she liked and never put on an ounce of weight. She didn’t own a set of scales, but the way her jeans currently hung off her hips told her it would take many more packets of sandwiches to regain what she had lost.
Throwing the sandwich wrapper on to the passenger seat, Julia set off for home. However, when she reached the crossroads on the outskirts of Holt, she paused. Now that she seemed to have misplaced the map of exactly what she had been doing in it for the last seven months, the thought of going back to the cold, dark little cottage was unappealing. So, instead, she turned right and headed for Alicia’s cosy farmhouse.
‘Julia, what a lovely surprise!’ Alicia’s face lit up as Julia entered through the kitchen door. ‘Look who’s here, kids – Auntie Julia!’
‘I thought I’d just … drop in.’ Julia was suddenly uncomfortable.
Alicia was standing by the Aga, doling out supper into bowls for the children, who were sitting squabbling at the kitchen table.
‘And I’m really glad you did. Want some? It’s bean stew.’ Alicia dipped her fingers into one of the bowls and tested it. ‘Tastier than it sounds.’
‘No thanks. I’ve just eaten.’
Alicia raised an eyebrow as she took the bowls to the table. ‘Really?’
‘Yes!’ Julia quelled the familiar feeling of irritation. ‘I have just eaten actually. I’d love a cup of tea, though.’
‘Put the kettle on and make that two.’ Alicia sat down next to a complaining Fred and spoon-fed him.
‘Mummy, beans are yucky !’
‘Fred, the faster you eat it, the sooner it’ll be gone.’ Alicia let him be and came to stand by the Aga with Julia. ‘You’ve got some colour in your cheeks. In fact, you look better today than I’ve seen you in ages.’
‘Thanks.’ Julia concentrated on pouring boiling water into the teapot, feeling Alicia’s eyes on her. ‘I went for a long walk this morning. It did me good,’ she acknowledged.
‘Looks like it did. James! Will you stop flicking your beans at Fred. I’ll make you take them back and eat every last one.’
Julia passed Alicia her cup of tea. ‘And … I had a visitor today.’
‘Oh, you mean Kit Crawford?’
‘Yes.’
‘I was meaning to tell you that Bella Harper had called for your number. Actually, she was quite chatty.’ Alicia went to the table to clear the bowls away and presented the children with a yogurt each. ‘I presume she’s worked out exactly who you are. I’ve been elevated in her estimation, due to the fact I have a famous sister.’ Alicia raised her eyebrows. ‘Anyway, enough of that silly woman. What did Kit want?’
‘He found something at Bill and Elsie’s old cottage and he wanted to give it to me.’ Julia sipped her tea.
‘Really? What?’
‘A diary, which was presumably written by Grandfather Bill. It’s an account of being a prisoner of war in Changi jail in Singapore. I’ll let you know more when I’ve read it.’
‘How fascinating,’ breathed Alicia. ‘How old was Grandfather Bill when he wrote it?’
‘Well, it was 1941, so he would have been in his early twenties. Did you know he was held captive there?’ Julia asked.
Alicia shook her head. ‘No, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t. The person to ask is Grandmother Elsie. She would know.’
‘Have you seen her recently?’
Alicia looked guilty. ‘No, I haven’t. I never quite seem to find the time to go and visit her, what with the kids … I should have made more of an effort.’
‘Is she still living in Southwold?’ asked Julia.
‘Her sister died a year or so ago, so she lives there alone now. Do you remember the way she was obsessed with doing our hair? Up, down, plaits, ponytails, curls …’ Alicia giggled. ‘And that strange
Throwing the sandwich wrapper on to the passenger seat, Julia set off for home. However, when she reached the crossroads on the outskirts of Holt, she paused. Now that she seemed to have misplaced the map of exactly what she had been doing in it for the last seven months, the thought of going back to the cold, dark little cottage was unappealing. So, instead, she turned right and headed for Alicia’s cosy farmhouse.
‘Julia, what a lovely surprise!’ Alicia’s face lit up as Julia entered through the kitchen door. ‘Look who’s here, kids – Auntie Julia!’
‘I thought I’d just … drop in.’ Julia was suddenly uncomfortable.
Alicia was standing by the Aga, doling out supper into bowls for the children, who were sitting squabbling at the kitchen table.
‘And I’m really glad you did. Want some? It’s bean stew.’ Alicia dipped her fingers into one of the bowls and tested it. ‘Tastier than it sounds.’
‘No thanks. I’ve just eaten.’
Alicia raised an eyebrow as she took the bowls to the table. ‘Really?’
‘Yes!’ Julia quelled the familiar feeling of irritation. ‘I have just eaten actually. I’d love a cup of tea, though.’
‘Put the kettle on and make that two.’ Alicia sat down next to a complaining Fred and spoon-fed him.
‘Mummy, beans are yucky !’
‘Fred, the faster you eat it, the sooner it’ll be gone.’ Alicia let him be and came to stand by the Aga with Julia. ‘You’ve got some colour in your cheeks. In fact, you look better today than I’ve seen you in ages.’
‘Thanks.’ Julia concentrated on pouring boiling water into the teapot, feeling Alicia’s eyes on her. ‘I went for a long walk this morning. It did me good,’ she acknowledged.
‘Looks like it did. James! Will you stop flicking your beans at Fred. I’ll make you take them back and eat every last one.’
Julia passed Alicia her cup of tea. ‘And … I had a visitor today.’
‘Oh, you mean Kit Crawford?’
‘Yes.’
‘I was meaning to tell you that Bella Harper had called for your number. Actually, she was quite chatty.’ Alicia went to the table to clear the bowls away and presented the children with a yogurt each. ‘I presume she’s worked out exactly who you are. I’ve been elevated in her estimation, due to the fact I have a famous sister.’ Alicia raised her eyebrows. ‘Anyway, enough of that silly woman. What did Kit want?’
‘He found something at Bill and Elsie’s old cottage and he wanted to give it to me.’ Julia sipped her tea.
‘Really? What?’
‘A diary, which was presumably written by Grandfather Bill. It’s an account of being a prisoner of war in Changi jail in Singapore. I’ll let you know more when I’ve read it.’
‘How fascinating,’ breathed Alicia. ‘How old was Grandfather Bill when he wrote it?’
‘Well, it was 1941, so he would have been in his early twenties. Did you know he was held captive there?’ Julia asked.
Alicia shook her head. ‘No, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t. The person to ask is Grandmother Elsie. She would know.’
‘Have you seen her recently?’
Alicia looked guilty. ‘No, I haven’t. I never quite seem to find the time to go and visit her, what with the kids … I should have made more of an effort.’
‘Is she still living in Southwold?’ asked Julia.
‘Her sister died a year or so ago, so she lives there alone now. Do you remember the way she was obsessed with doing our hair? Up, down, plaits, ponytails, curls …’ Alicia giggled. ‘And that strange
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