Mill House

The Mill House Copyright © 2004 by Paul McCusker Requests for information should be addressed to: Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data McCusker, Paul, 1958- The mill house / Paul McCusker. p. cm. ISBN 0-310-25354-3 (softcover) 1. Grandparent and child-Fiction. 2. English Americans-Fiction. 3. Women immigrants-Fiction. 4. Grandmothers-Fiction. 5. Older women-Fiction. 6. Secrecy-Fiction. I. Title. PS3563.C3533M55 2004 813'.54-dc22 2004010288 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other-except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher. Interior design by Beth Shagene Printed in the United States of America 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 /.DC/ 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 We want to hear from you. Please send your comments about this book to us in care of zreview@zondervan.com. Thank you. Chapter One SATURDAY, THE 26TH OF JUNE LAINEY BISHOP GROUND THE GEARS ON HER MINI-COOPER, MUTTERED recriminations to herself, then found first as she pulled away from the stoplight on the outskirts of Stonebridge. She was late. Worse, she was agitated by the cryptic message her mother had left on her answering machine, and every delay made her annoyance grow. She never should have taken the unfamiliar shortcut through East Grinstead rather than her usual route on the motorway via Brighton. The earlier downpour of rain had snarled London traffic. The usual ninety-minute journey now hit the two-hour mark. Normally the transition from the concrete and noise of Shepherd's Bush in London to the lush forests and rolling downs of Sussex helped to relax her. It was one of the reasons she came to visit every weekend. The green beauty touched her soul, renewed her to the core. Today, however, Lainey didn't feel renewed. She was late. And she was worried. She guided her car through the one-way system that formed a triangle around Stonebridge's town center. She drove past the quaint shops that now sat alongside the national chains of grocery, book, and electronics stores. Just over the tops of the Georgian and Victorian buildings she could see the perpendicular tower of St. Mark's, the twelfth-century church that sat in the very heart of the town. The rain had stopped; the sun broke through the clouds, giving the tower's brown stones a golden glow. The clock in the tower-a much later addition to the building-came into view and showed ten past one. She was ten minutes late. George Street led her around to High Street, which she crossed and found a parking spot in the large lot behind the Waitrose food store. She parked and raced toward the Great War Memorial that sat in the middle of the main shopping area. It was an obelisk with the names of fallen soldiers carved into the pedestal at the base. A wreath of white lilies- now fringed with a forlorn brown-leaned on a stand against the side. Puddles dotted the pavement around it. Lainey saw her mother and stopped short. Margaret Bishop was sitting on one of the benches that faced the memorial. Her black-and-gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun and her hands clasped the handbag in her lap. Her brown overcoat was snug around her. She looked tightly wound, coiled like a spring. Her eyes were on a wreath that hung in front of her. "Hello," Lainey said as she dropped down on the bench next to her mother and kissed her quickly on the cheek. Her mother's skin was milk white and soft as velvet. She smelled of sweet perfume. "Was the traffic bad?" her mother asked, her eyes still on the wreath. "Yes. Sorry I'm late." Her mother tilted her head and said, "That wreath is crooked." "Is it?" Margaret frowned, deepening the lines around her eyes and highlighting the wrinkles around her lips. "People need toMcCusker, Paul is the author of 'Mill House', published 2004 under ISBN 9780310253549 and ISBN 0310253543.