'Of course, I well knew that my grandfather was no ghost or spirit, for I had known him all my life until he died as a very old man. It was, I suppose, grandmother's way of dealing with the trauma she suffered at Albert Askrigg's hands. However . . . believe what you will. No one has ever answered the question of how Albert Askrigg knew what was going on in this house. As Pamela was to find out for herself, once she'd fully recovered, there are no secret passageways or rooms or anything else in this old house, and never have been.'
The old lady took a long look around the sitting-room and sighed once more. 'I well remember my grandmother and grandfather sitting in this very room, reminiscing about days gone by and the full and happy life they'd had together.
'But these things go in cycles, as they say. Their children, my parents, almost managed to squander the entire Dewhurst fortune. They hadn't had to work for it, and they became a spoiled leisure-class, who thought life consisted of spending money, and frivolous entertainment. There was almost nothing left of the family fortune by the time I came into the picture. But my grandmother was a shrewd woman, and took me under her wing. And by the time I was nineteen, like her, two generations before me, I was practically running the show.
'Then, I grew up and got married, and along came another generation of spoiled leisure-class kids; your parents, not to put too fine a point on it. Just like my parents, they gave you a hard world to grow up in, what with their divorce and fighting over you kids and sending you away to those dreadful boarding schools. I have a very good idea how unhappy you were, and what happened there. It's a good thing for all of us that your parents will be left with nothing more than an allowance.
'But now, my dear, it's all up to you to save the Dewhurst legacy one more.' She smiled, a wise, thoughtful smile, full of memory.
'In fact, I want you to have something. It has been in my possession for many years, now, and I think it's about time it finally changed hands.'
She handed the girl the diary she had been reading from, a small book bound in red leather that was at once very much worn and carefully preserved.
Awed, the girl took it. 'Gran, I can't accept this from you! Not ever! I'm never going to be the sort of person who can take on that kind of responsibility. Besides, this book has always been your greatest treasure.'