With the flowers cradled under one arm, she swung the carrier bag from the fruit and veg stall in the other hand, making her way farther down the road, glancing desultorily into shop windows. She thought she might buy shoes, or an inexpensive bracelet under the Westway, something entirely frivolous, entirely out of character.
But just before the Westway, her eye was caught by a print on a photographer’s stall. She bought it without deliberation, handing over a note with a smile, then walked away, examining her find. The house she thought she recognized as one nearby, but its cream brick
work and the French blue of a bay window on the first floor served merely as a backdrop for the graceful curved limbs of an apple tree that filled the frame, bursting with white blossom.
It was an ordinary scene, simple and uncomplicated, full of promise.
Duncan met her in the hall, taking her bags and the paper cone of flowers. “I’d have bought them for you,” he said.
“I know.” She followed him into the kitchen. “But I wanted to buy them myself. Kit stayed with Dad at the bakery. Where are Toby and the dogs?”
“I’ve fed Toby lunch and sent them outside again. They’re like dervishes in the house today. Spring fever. Shall I get a vase, or do you want—” He stopped, looking puzzled. “What is it? Did I miss a spot shaving? Egg on my face?”
Gemma found that her hands were trembling. She took a breath, hoping her voice wouldn’t squeak. “No. It’s just…I was wondering…I was wondering if we might invite Winnie and Jack up for a weekend. Sometime this summer. And Hazel. And your family, of course.”
He frowned. “What—”
“I was wondering if Winnie could, you know, officiate. In a parish that wasn’t her patch. At a…wedding.”
“A wedding?” He stared at her, the tulips tilting dangerously in his grasp, forgotten. In his eyes she saw a flare of delight, and herself reflected, infinitely, like an image in a hall of mirrors.
“A wedding. If you wanted…That is…”
“I think,” he said slowly, setting the flowers on the table, “that something of the sort could be arranged.”
Many thanks to the team at HarperCollins who have made this book possible, especially my editor, Carrie Feron, as well as Tessa Woodward, Lisa Gallagher, Danielle Barlett, and copy editor Victoria Mathews, who has once again crossed my
i
’s and dotted my
t
’s.
The members of the Every Other Tuesday Night Writers’ Group are stalwart and much appreciated: Steve Copling, Dale Denton, Jim Evans, Diane Sullivan Hale, Viqui Litman, Gigi Norwood, and Steve Russell.
My brainstorming buddies Kate Charles and Marcia Talley helped with the genesis of the plot, as did Arabella Stein and Kate Walker at Abner Stein, U.K.
My ever-patient agent, Nancy Yost, deserves medals, as she very well knows.
Diane Hale, Gigi Norwood, and Steve Ullathorne deserve very special thanks for support and encouragement when much needed.
Illustrator Laura Maestro has brought the characters and settings of
Where Memories Lie
to life with her charming map.
And last but not least, thanks to Rick and Kayti for once again putting up with a writer in the family.
D
EBORAH
C
ROMBIE
is a native Texan who has lived in both England and Scotland. She currently lives north of Dallas in McKinney, Texas, sharing a 102-year-old house with her husband, three cats, and two German shepherds. When not walking dogs or remodeling, she spends a good deal of time in the U.K., researching her Kincaid/James novels.
www.deborahcrombie.com
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Where Memories Lie
Water Like a Stone
In a Dark House
Now May You Weep
And Justice There Is None
A Finer End
Kissed a Sad Goodbye
Dreaming of the Bones
Mourn Not Your Dead
Leave the Grave Green
All Shall Be Well
A Share in Death
Jacket design by Thomas Tafuri
Jacket photograph courtesy of the author
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WHERE MEMORIES LIE
. Copyright © 2008 by Deborah Crombie. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition MAY © 2008 ISBN: 9780061802393
Version 09252012
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