I could feel my face redden slightly. I never talked about this to anyone. I was feeling more than a little awkward.

"What do you think about his work? Do you agree with what he does?"

I thought for a second. "Um, I don't know. I suppose that there are those who might feel more secure to have them, the weapons I mean, and like the idea of using them as a threat, but apart from that, I'm not sure. Every country is different and we shouldn't dictate what others can and can't do, should we?" I said.

"Well, you certainly have an old head on those young shoulders!" she laughed. "I'm impressed. And because of his job you've had to move so often," she said pointedly.

"Mostly, I suppose. If he gets a job in the north of England it wouldn't be fair for him to travel so far to work every day. But if he was abroad it didn't matter where we lived. Though it wasn't safe to stay anywhere for too long. Why are you asking? You know this already," I said.

She smiled and I relaxed a little. She absently lifted and brushed down the cover of the armchair arm.

"Of course I do, Rose, but I'm just seeing how truthful your parents have been with you, and if you knew the whole story. And I see that you do. Your parents have been fair. It wasn't easy for them, you know. They wanted you to live a completely normal life, I know they hated dragging you and your sister around the country, and as long as you know that, then I'm happy."

I shrugged again. "We all got by, it wasn't so bad."

Daisy stood up then and walked to the windows absently looking across the lawn.

"I hope we can make this work, Rose. Honesty is always the best policy and I see that you are. I think we're going to get along just fine," she smiled at me.

She walked back and sat next to me, reaching for my left arm.

"Are you wearing the bracelet your mother gave you?" Daisy slid back the loose sleeve of my t-shirt and I felt her cool fingers as they touched my wrist. She stared at the bracelet twisting my arm over and under.

"Um, yes. I wear it all the time," I added.

"Good. You'll need it here. I've misplaced mine so I'm glad you have the other."

"I don't understand. Why it is such a big thing in our family? Why didn't it go to Amy? And why didn't we come back to stay during school holidays?" I pulled the sleeve down hiding it from sight. I felt the pins tug under my skin; it didn't hurt but just ached a little.

"That's a story in itself for another time, Rose. Right now I bet your head is splitting with questions but some things will have to wait. All in good time."

She smiled again, and I stared at her face more closely. Her eyebrows were faint but light in colour which matched her eye lashes and her grey eyes had the same brightness as my own emerald eyes. Her skin was pale which emphasised her eyes all the more. Her thin lips were dark and small and I was struck by how attractive Daisy really was. For an old lady she had barely a wrinkle but she was pretty all the same.

One thing I picked up on was that Daisy didn't probe without reason. She didn't push me to find out my feelings or opinions but I realised in that short time I could speak freely and she would listen. I could be outspoken with friends sometimes but I doubted I ever would be with Daisy. I still didn't trust her though; I suppose that would take time. And I didn't ask the questions I should have. If the answers had to wait, then I would wait. I was very patient with waiting.

She sat down again in her armchair, and I felt the small amount of tension that had just occurred lift the air in the room.

I ate the last of the sandwiches. "These are really good, thank you. Mum didn't want to stop at the services on the way down."

She laughed lightly. "No, I didn't think she would, but with good reason. So, how did you like your birthday present?"

"The book? Yes, it's great, thank you!" I replied with gusto. "It's in my back pack; I was able to read a little on the way down."

"Really? You can read while you're sat in a car, you don't feel sick?"

"Um, no," I said cautiously. "I always read. It helps pass the time. When you're not being followed, that is."

A heavy pause lingered for a moment so I asked about Mira and Hannah, and was pleased that they would be calling later in the week, both eager to see me.

I wasn't shy at making friends, years of adapting had seen to that. It was either join in or remain lonely, and I had had my fair share of loneliness. I didn't like it.

But being new came with certain side effects. I would be a curiosity when school started, and I was ready for that. All the 'So tell me your life story' crap which I would repeat again and again only to find out that someone would backstab me within a few weeks. Some kids could be mean. I know I hadn't been enthusiastic with my mother about meeting them but it would be nice to get to know the two girls who had been my childhood friends, and be able to chat to someone my own age.

After our lunch Daisy took me on a guided tour of the house. Much of it was different, newer and modernised, than I remembered. We began with the bedrooms upstairs, all nine of them, on the long corridor. My room was at the end on the left and Daisy's was at the end on the right. The end corridor door next to Daisy's was locked but on opening she showed me the staircase leading up to another level.

"This is one of the oldest parts of the house. I haven't had any work done up there yet, but I'm hoping to make another room at the top of the house just for you. Then you can have complete privacy. It will run the full length of the building."

"Yeah? That would be amazing," I laughed in delight. "It'll be massive though."

"Well, one day this house will be yours, Rose, and I want you to be happy and feel like it's your home. You'll have to wait a bit for the work to be done; I still haven't had the plans agreed. Bureaucracy at the Town Hall seems to be stalling me. So, in the meantime, don't go up these stairs. They're not quite safe yet as you can see."

The old wooden steps were splintered badly with age, layers of dusts ingrained into the surface and two steps that I could see were already fractured into pieces.

I nodded in agreement, as Daisy turned away to shut and lock the door once more.

From the hallway, I could sense for the first time that the downstairs rooms were older, more lived in, maybe from an original building that had once stood in this spot. It felt like the past was seeping from the walls and hanging in the air waiting to be discovered. Whether it was the way the light hit the windows drawing in the daylight, or the smell of wood and stonework from the walls, the atmosphere was calm, and almost happy.

"How old is the house?" I asked.

Daisy thought for a moment.

"The original parts of the house are behind the walls of the living room, study and our conservatory. It's all boarded up, of course, I had to make the house functional, but it was originally built in 1793 as a Coach House, or Way station. People used to stop here to get food or refresh their horses before riding out on their journeys down the track. This road is the only direct route across the Salisbury Plain to the other side, and it was the only way for the villages on the Plain to get to town and buy their food and provisions for the week. Another time I can show you the old archways and stable rooms."

"I'd like that, it sounds so interesting. I'm confused though."

"What about, dear?" Daisy looked genuinely interested, I could tell she was enjoying herself.

"When we used to stay, I don't remember all these rooms. This hallway is the same, and the kitchen and those rooms there." I pointed to the doors to our left. "But I don't remember it being so big."

"Ah, yes. That's because the house looks smaller from the back, you used to drive up using the back lane, and walk in across the garden to the kitchen, do you remember that?"

I thought I vaguely recollected images of a garden with steps.

"I think so. But the bedrooms to the right also, I can't remember them."

"You were only ten when you last came here. We had a walled barrier up here so some rooms would have been off limits. Maybe moving to so many different houses has clouded your memory. You'll get back into the swing of things."

Daisy put a reassuring arm over my shoulder and opened the doors in the hallway. The living room was furnished in light colours with two cream sofas, a large coffee table and a cabinet containing a television inside. Wooden beams adorned the ceiling.

I smiled at my grandmother as I recollected this room. We all used to play board games in the evening here, and charades, DVD quizzes but mostly watch TV.

The once blank wall on the right was now filled with photograph frames; most of the pictures were old and faded. Daisy was in most. I recognised her even when she was younger as her resemblance to my mother was obvious. Some were group photos, and others were portrait style. There were lots of Amy and me at various ages, with Mum and Dad in the gardens here, but one in particular that caught my eye was of Daisy with two young men, sitting on the side of an old well. The three were all so similar. Daisy wore a yellow flowered dress, and the men wore khaki shirts and long trousers. The happy scene of smiling faces told me that they were sharing a private joke.

"Daisy, who are they?"

She peered closer at the picture I was pointing at, but I noticed a sad flash cross her face.

"That's me and my two brothers when we were younger. Frank is next to me, and Will next to him."

"I didn't know you had brothers. Where are they now?" I asked eagerly.

"Sadly, they both died shortly after that photo was taken."

I gulped, and felt instantly guilty. "Oh, Daisy, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be insensitive."

She side glanced at me and smiled sorrowfully. "No, Rose, it's all right. Frank and Will were both older, and in the army. We were all very fond of each other and I missed them terribly when they went to war. But we always had fun when they were home, and they doted on me, you know," she smiled, reminiscing a happy time. "This photo was taken during 1942 at our grandfather's house in Imber; we were sitting on the well in the farmhouse courtyard. Frank had bought the camera in France and from the minute he got home he wouldn't stop taking our pictures, he even roped my mother into taking this one and she had trouble with the buttons. That's why we're all laughing."

"How did they die? Were they killed in action somewhere?" I asked quietly, ignoring the fact that if the photo was taken in 1942 and she was a teenager at the time, she must be nearly ninety years old. How was that so, when she looked so young? I added my query to the pile of questions already accumulating in my head.

"Nothing so gallant, I'm afraid. Frank and Will were in town on their last night before shipping out to somewhere in Europe. Will didn't like the way another soldier was eyeing up his girlfriend, so he punched the man. My brother had a fearsome temper sometimes. In the end Frank had to drag Will away from the tussle leaving the other soldier with a broken cheekbone and nose. The boys drove back to our village, happy as sand boys and a little bit drunk, unbeknownst that they were being followed. Halfway between Warminster and Imber another car forced them off the road and they were both stabbed to death. It was truly horrible and we all suffered very deeply."

"Did they find the men who did it? Were they punished?" I asked, shocked.

"Let's just say, they found some men to punish. Whether they were the guilty ones, we'll never know. The police, at the time, had very few leads. The blackout saw to that, and with no street lighting to see and no witnesses the case was closed, and in those days people seldom talk out of turn, especially to the police."

She sighed.

"So, what did you do?"

Daisy pulled her shoulders back. "We did what we had to. We buried them, we grieved and we carried on. We still had to work and the harvest still had to be cropped. It broke my father to lose his boys, and he swore to his dying day that he would avenge whoever committed this heinous crime. He didn't, of course. He died about ten years after of a heart attack whilst sat on one of his farm machines."

"Did you ever find out what really happened?"

"I have my suspicions, people in this town don't move around, except for the army people, of course. But over the years you hear things. It was all a long time ago, and very tragic. But what's past is past. There's nothing gained from holding long grudges. You just end up being miserable."

Daisy put her arm around my shoulder again and steered me out the room.

"Enough of that, Rose, let's show you the study."

Her mood changed as we opened the next door. The study was the size of my bedroom, complete with dark oak wooden panels and walls full of books. Again, it had a feeling of character and presence with the smell of old bindings and paper. I guessed that Daisy spent a great deal of time here judging by the central writing desk - it's surface covered with papers, a pair of reading glasses, pots of pens and an old Tiffany reading lamp. Opposite was a low comfy armchair, and beside it a standard lamp to aid reading in the dark hours.

"It's exactly as I remembered," I gasped and it was. Nothing had changed here and I knew that I would be as happy to sit here reading as she obviously was.

Back in the hall, in the alcove under the stairs was a small old wooden sloping door.

"Now, Rose. This door is to remain locked at all times," Daisy said sternly. It was the first time her tone was more forceful.

"Why? What's down there?" I asked inquisitively.

"Nothing that need concern you," she answered bluntly, but I noticed that she was staring at me oddly. I felt a compulsion to laugh but held it back.

"Why, is it old skeletons and family secrets?"

She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous! Just a few things the workmen left behind. The floor isn't very safe below and, again, the stairs are old," she said as she guided me towards the kitchen.

"Okay," I answered but the door held my interest.

If it was off limits, why was the key still in the door? I followed Daisy to the kitchen but couldn't shake the feeling that a carrot had just been dangled in front of my face.

The kitchen was modern, complete with a new looking Aga stove and American size fridge along the back wall. In the centre the black island countertop had bar style seats while the large windows let in all the afternoon light.

Daisy switched the kettle on and got more mugs from the cupboard above.

"Tell me, dear, do you still get headaches?" she asked.

Her question caught me off guard.

"I remember you having them as a child, sweetheart. I have all sorts of remedies just here if you need anything," she replied and showed me a cupboard filled with boxes and tablet cases.

I'd managed to steer clear of headaches today, which was a small bonus. Sometimes they just occurred for no reason but when I was overtired they hit as fast as a train.

"So, I suppose we should negotiate some ground rules? What do you think?" she said as she placed another mug of steaming tea in front of me.

"Well, I suppose," I stuttered nervously. "I thought that Mum had worked it all out with you?"

"The rules are - that there are no rules," Daisy laughed. "You can come and go as you please, you're grown up enough to know what's right and wrong. I won't insult your intelligence by dictating what you must and mustn't do."

"Um, okay," I managed to mutter, unsure.

"On one condition."

"What's the condition?" I asked warily.

"You allow me to do the same."

I placed the cup back on the counter.

"I don't understand."

She sighed. "I have a nice life here, and I come and go as I need to. I've lived alone for a long time, and I hope that you'll accept that I won't always be at home. There will always be food in the fridge or a hot dinner that needs to be warmed up. Mostly we'll eat together but as long as you're aware of it then we'll suit each other very well," she said.

It was understandable. In our negotiations my mum had referred to Daisy's varied social life and I could see from the calendar hanging beside the fridge that nearly every day had an event written in it.

"I think, it's a deal," I grinned.

"Good, I thought you'd understand."

"But, Daisy is it really safe for me here. Mum and Dad are relying on you. That's what they said anyway."

My thoughts drifted back to the chase again. Sitting but twisted round, peering back out the rear window shouting how near or far the black cars had been to us, while Mum swerved back and forth through the busy lanes. We had both only felt a small amount of relief for scant minutes before the Mercedes re-emerged through the traffic to chase us again.

Daisy's voice eased my concern with an unruffled tone. "You won't be in any danger in this town. Everybody knows everyone else here, and if someone strange should come through town, the phone will ring, don't you worry. I wouldn't put you in any danger, and personally, I think you've been kept in that tight woollen blanket for too long. It's time to stretch your wings a little and have some fun. Do you agree?" she laughed.

I did feel free, finally I felt as if I had come home for the very first time.

"I agree, completely," I laughed with her.

"Good. Now, I have an appointment in town in an hour, and I'd like for you to join me, just this time. The Governor is opening the newly renovated Athenaeum Theatre and I've been asked to be the guest of honour, it's just a speech then some ribbon cutting. Then afterwards I'll take you out for a special treat tonight. There's a wonderful restaurant in town run by an old friend of mine, and he'd be delighted to have us for a meal, what do you say?" her face shone in delight.