A Week in Winter: A Novel

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Authors: Marcia Willett
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Maudie had answered wretchedly. ‘Your mother is terribly upset, of course.’
    ‘Yes, well, she would be, wouldn’t she? I’m glad you’d told me before I saw her.’ Posy had hesitated, embarrassed. ‘The thing is, she’s wondering if she can’t afford to buy it herself.’
    ‘Oh,
no.
’ Maudie had shaken her head. ‘Oh dear. This is what I feared might happen.’ They’d stared at each other anxiously.
    ‘I thought I’d better tell you. I didn’t really want to but I think she’s hoping that you might … well, back down a bit.’
    ‘Back down?’ She’d frowned impatiently. ‘Back down how? I can’t afford not to sell and I feel quite certain that Selina can’t afford to buy it. Even if she could, I wouldn’t encourage it. Not unless she and Patrick were prepared to sell up and live in it. They couldn’t afford to run it and Selina would hate to have a tenant in. She’d want to use it for weekends and parties. Oh, it would be a
disaster.

    ‘I know. I agree with you. It’s one of Mum’s grand ideas that costs Dad a fortune and just causes trouble. I told her so.’
    ‘Did you?’ Maudie had chuckled grimly. ‘That must have gone down well.’
    Posy had shrugged. ‘We had a bit of a row. So what’s new? Anyway, I thought I’d warn you. She’s ringing round the family for support but Dad thinks the whole thing’s ridiculous. Try not to be upset, Maudie …’
    ‘It’s just that I’d hoped—I shall invest most of it for the future and, once the roof is done and the car sorted out, there might be some spare cash for you for any small thing you need. Oh, dear. I feel so—’
    ‘Maudie!’ Posy had interrupted warningly. ‘You know we don’t used the G-word. It was our new year resolution. Remember? We were never going to feel guilty about Mum again. Or anything else if we could help it.’
    ‘How optimistic we were,’ Maudie had sighed. ‘It’s because the house is not truly mine, I suppose. Perhaps I should move into Moorgate and sell The Hermitage. I wouldn’t feel so badly then. No, no, Posy.’ She’d felt even more remorseful as she saw the light that briefly rose and fell inPosy’s eyes. ‘Even for you I couldn’t bury myself on Bodmin Moor. I sometimes wonder how much longer I can manage isolated here, but when I
do
move, it will be into Bovey.’
    ‘I know that. Of course you will. It was just a mad moment. Let’s forget about it. When are you coming to Winchester? You’ll be able to bring Polonius with you …’
    As the late autumn afternoon faded gently into shadowy twilight Maudie felt determination and confidence returning. Selling Moorgate had opened too many old wounds, revived painful memories. She must strive to remember Hector without destructive doubts; to simply refuse to allow Selina to wrong-foot her. The money from the sale would ease the financial situation and still her nagging fears of the future. It was a pity that she wouldn’t have the funds for a new roof before winter set in but it would be such a comfort to have a sensible sum put by for her old age and for Posy’s future.
    Polonius appeared, dripping from the river, and shook himself vigorously all over her.
    ‘Wretched animal,’ she cried, wiping the cold drops from her face. ‘Come on. Home, then.’
    She turned back, her boots crunching over beech mast and dead leaves, Polonius loping beside her. A star twinkled high above, tangled in the bare branches of a beech tree, and tranquillity touched her anxious, restless heart. They went together through the garden gate and into the house, and the door closed behind them.
    Battling with the endless administrative work that seemed to expand to fill every spare hour, Patrick heard Selina’s footsteps on the stairs with a now-familiar dread. It was guilt—what his daughter called the G-word—that caused the pit of his gut to contract sickeningly, made him swallow in a suddenly dry throat. Foolish that part of him longed to shout the

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