The following afternoon, Stephanie was lying in the sun in her grandmother’s garden reading one of her new history texts, The Histories by Tacitus. Her mind kept drifting back to the previous day – to James and his comments about the feud between their families. He actually seemed to buy into the whole idea, which is weird given that a feud seems such an outdated concept. She decided to ask her grandmother about it.
Her mobile chimed, announcing an incoming text.
She rolled over and picked it up off the edge of the rug, waving her hand lazily at a bee that was buzzing about the flowerbeds. She flopped on her back and tapped the screen to open the message.
Wanna see The Fury tonight? Pick you up 7:30. Matt
Stephanie smiled and text back: Love 2. Ok if Michael comes?
No probs, was the reply.
A little while later, Stephanie gathered her things and wandered inside. She paused on the stairs studying the photographs.
“Oh, there you are dear,” her grandmother said, walking out of the kitchen. “Did Matthew get hold of you?”
“Yes, thanks, Grandma. I’m going to see a band with him tonight,” Stephanie replied, her attention being captured by an old black and white photo of two men and two women laughing. “I have been meaning to ask you, who are these people?” she asked.
Ellie came to join her on the stairs, putting her hand on the banister and leaning against it slightly. “That’s me with my brother David and sister Sophie, just before the war,” she said. “And the other man is Edward Knox.”
“Knox?” Stephanie asked. “I think I met his grandson yesterday.”
Ellie looked stricken. “That would be his great-nephew, not grandson.” She clutched the banister.
“Grandma, are you okay?” Stephanie asked alarmed, reaching for her.
“We have nothing to do with that family, Stephanie.” Her voice rang out stronger than Stephanie had ever heard it.
Stephanie opened and closed her mouth. So this was ‘the feud’ in action – James was right.
“Grandma,” she began.
“I know it may seem old-fashioned to you, but if it weren’t for them, my darling sister, Sophie, would still be alive.” Ellie’s strength of a moment earlier seemed to have deserted her, and she closed her eyes for a moment.
“Really, Grandma? What happened?” Stephanie asked wide eyed, shocked.
“Well, it’s a long story, but she died in a car accident in 1940. It was all very suspicious,” Ellie replied, a faraway look in her eye.
Stephanie opened her mouth to ask another question, when the doorbell buzzed. Sighing slightly, Ellie released the banister and walked over to open the front door. A lady of her age stood there. “I don’t suppose you have the kettle on, Ellie?” she asked.
“Of course,” Ellie said opening the door wider and letting her friend into the hall.
Stephanie smiled at them both, suppressing her annoyance that the story had been interrupted. What could she mean that her sister would still be alive? Was Edward Knox a murderer? She looked back at the faces smiling back at her from the photo – I wonder what secrets you hold? she thought, vowing to find out more, as she wandered upstairs to her room.