The Secrets of Meadow Farmhouse. Katie Ginger
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cold water slid down her throat and concern mixed with anticipation sent goose bumps over her skin. She didn’t normally get letters from England and the company name sounded unnervingly formal. After spraying and wiping down the counter, she sat on a stool and opened the post, starting with the bright white envelope postmarked from England.
As soon as she pulled out the thick white paper, her eyes began to scan the words. An unexpected wave of emotion hit her, and her body shook in response. For a moment, her breathing became hard and erratic and she willed herself to calm down. Great-Aunt Vera was dead and had left her Meadow Farm: the draughty old farmhouse they’d co-existed in for ten unsentimental and lonely years, as well as the land around it. You couldn’t even really call it living together because that implied a level of fondness that had never existed as far as her aunt was concerned.
Shaking her head at the memory, Amelia was glad she’d left for university and never returned. Vera hadn’t wanted her and if it hadn’t been for Adam, the only friend she had in the village, she’d have run away long before then. He’d talked her out of it so many times when Vera had told her off for doing nothing more than being a child. Vera had always made her feel so burdensome and ultimately forgettable.
A moment’s respite from such intense emotions came as she thought of Adam again. The youthful face she remembered once more pushed its way into her brain and she swallowed hard. She’d missed him immensely over the years but had never been brave enough to contact him. He’d been her first love and she regretted that she’d left without saying a proper goodbye but there was no possible way she could have stayed in that place forever. He’d have got over it by now, Amelia reminded herself. He’d have forgotten her quickly. He’d probably been happy to be rid of her.
Swallowing down her feelings, Amelia reread the letter. As shock subsided to be replaced by grief and guilt, Amelia took another drink of water. She hadn’t even known Vera was sick. Apart from exchanging Christmas and birthday cards, they didn’t speak at all and her most recent Christmas card hadn’t mentioned anything about declining health. Had it been sudden? The solicitor’s letter didn’t mention the cause of death.
Though she regretted how their relationship had ended up, unless someone knew Vera – knew how cold and hard she was, how unloving – people didn’t understand. Some people were naturally private, and it was a behaviour Amelia herself had learned, but Vera took it to a whole new level, hating everyone. Amelia buried the turmoil threatening to rise and overtake her under the knowledge that she’d made something of herself. She took a breath in, counted to eight and let it out slowly, counting again as she did so.
Despite everything, Vera had left her Meadow Farmhouse and according to the letter, she’d made Amelia the sole heir. Amelia had always found the village hard to handle. The concern when she’d arrived and the constant reminders of why she’d ended up there had been overwhelming. Meadowbank was one of those places where everyone knew everyone else’s business and, as she’d grown, she’d longed for somewhere impersonal where no one asked her questions or reminded her of the past.
Would Adam still be there? Would anyone even remember her?
After she’d left, Amelia had never planned on going back and yet now it seemed she had no choice. She had to return to Meadow Farmhouse.
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