The woman elbowed Frank. ‘Did you hear that? I grew up in the Bronx, but I had an aunt in Astoria. So close we could be cousins, so I basically know you.’
Frank gave a snort.
‘It’s true, in New York everyone knows everyone, even just by the borough, isn’t that right?’ Shelley asked Amanda.
‘It’s true.’ Amanda smiled, already liking the group. Shelley and Frank reminded her of two noisy baboons but in a good way. Friendly and nosy and very opinionated.
‘That’s the thing about New Yorkers,’ Shelley was saying to Frank. ‘We’re all survivors in a way. That city could be hard on you so, like the song said, you could make it anywhere if you survived New York’s bitter winters, heartbreak, rental market and more.’
‘This is Dennis, he’s our reverend.’ Janet was gesturing to a thin, older man who put out his hand to shake.
Amanda looked at Simon, who stepped forward.
Dennis shook both their hands. ‘Pleased to see some younger people here,’ he said. ‘Foxfield doesn’t have many young people.’
‘Oh? That’s a shame,’ said Amanda. Dennis reminded her of a field mouse, unobtrusive and very timid.
‘Perhaps you will have a baby and bring it up here,’ said Shelley, and Simon coughed as though he was choking.
‘Rude,’ whispered Amanda.
‘And this is my wife, Carole,’ Janet was saying, as a woman with grey hair and cardigan and a pair of trousers stepped forward. ‘She’s also the local GP.’
Carole was a Persian cat, well groomed, graceful and with silver-laced hair and blue eyes.
‘How lovely to have you join us. Please sit and let’s hear all about your garden.’
Amanda and Simon sat on the chairs that Frank put down for them.
‘Um, well, it’s pretty overgrown, and we want to make it nicer, of course,’ said Amanda, wishing she had more words for describing the state of Moongate’s garden.
‘Lovely,’ said Janet. ‘So you’ve moved here recently?’
Amanda nodded. ‘Just a few weeks ago,’ she said.
‘Nearby?’ asked Shelley looking confused.
‘Well not in the village, but further out. It’s a house called Moongate Manor,’ said Amanda.
The group leaned forward as one.
‘Moongate? Where is Diana Graybrook-Moore?’ asked Dennis the reverend.
‘She’s still there,’ said Amanda. ‘She lives in the gatehouse.’
‘Are you family then?’ asked Carole, her eyes wide.
‘No?’ Amanda shook her head, looking at Simon for help.
Simon crossed his legs. ‘Amanda won Moongate Manor in a lottery. Her mother bought her a ticket and she won, so Diana has given her the house since there isn’t any next of kin.’
‘Well I’ll be,’ Frank mumbled.
‘Are you serious?’ Shelley asked.
‘Totally serious. Why are you all freaking out?’ Amanda asked.
‘Because Diana Graybrook-Moore is basically a hermit. She never leaves that place, even though it’s been going to wrack and ruin for the last ten years,’ said Frank.
