I said to Daisy: "On Sunday I should like to go and see a friend of mine who lives on Dartmoor, but I am not quite sure of the locality."
"Sunday is a day, I suppose, when you could easily get away. I am sure you could arrange for one of the others to take over any duties you might have."
"Yes, I am sure I could. I wonder if you have a map. I should like to see where it is exactly." "There are several. I'll show you."
Bristonleigh was not marked on the first, but she had a map of Dartmoor and its environs-and there it was. It was clearly a small hamlet right on the edge of the moor. I made a note of the nearest town.
I should have to go there and take some sort of conveyance to this place, I supposed.
"There is one train which leaves here at ten thirty," said Daisy. "And the one which would bring you back doesn't pass through until four. That should give you a little time with your friends."
"I'll try it. It will be an experiment."
And so it was that I found myself speeding through the lush Devon countryside on that Sunday morning.
The journey was only half an hour and when I arrived at the station and asked the porter how I could get to Bristonleigh, he was a little dubious, but only for a moment. "It's three miles from here ... uphill a bit. But I reckon Dick Cramm wouldn't mind earning a bit extra of a Sunday. He'd be just about up and about. He likes a bit of a lay-in on Sundays. But he be ready in case we gets calls, which we don't often."
"Where can I find him?"
"Go through the yard. Turn to the right. You'll see his place. Crabtree Cottage with a great crab apple tree beside it. That's where it gets it's name."
I thanked him and went off in search of Dick Cramm who fortunately was up and fresh from his Sunday morning "lay-in" and quite ready to take me to Bristonleigh.
"I want to see Miss Ada Whalley," I said. "Oh, she be a fine lady, Miss Ada Whalley." "You know her then?"
"Know her? Who don't know Miss Ada Whalley in these parts! She do grow the best vegetables round here. My wife has some ... so does most. Some of them goes up to London for folks up there. I goes and gets them and puts them on the train for her. Oh yes, I know Miss Ada Whalley."
This was great good fortune. I had imagined myself prowling the streets of Bristonleigh looking for Miss Ada Whalley.
"She do have her sister living with her now," he went on. "That be nice for her. She was saying so only the other day when I took down a load of greens. She said: "Tis nice having my sister with me.' Poor soul. I reckon she were lonely before."
We came to Bristonleigh. It was a beautiful village, typical of England and especially of Devon where the vegetation seems to be more lush than anywhere else in the country. There was the old church, the village green, a few houses, mostly eighteenth century except the Elizabethan Manor House on the common. The church clock chimed twelve just as we entered the village.
"Miss Whalley, her's a bit apart from the rest. She's got a bit of land for her growing things, you see. We'll be there in a few minutes."
"I shall have to catch the train back. It's half past three isn't h?"
"That's so, Miss."
"Will you come and pick me up and take me to the station?"
"That I will. Reckon I should be with you just before three. That all right for you, Miss?"
"It would suit me very well. Thank you so much. I am so glad I found you."
He scratched his head and stared straight in front of him but I knew he was well pleased.
"Here's the house. I'd better wait. Make sure they're in like. Not that they're likely to go away without us knowing."
I thought then how little there was country people did not know about each other. Of course in some cases they put the wrong construction on, but none could accuse them of indifference to their neighbours' lives.
I paid him and gave him a little extra which faintly embarrassed him but pleased him all the same. "You have been especially helpful," I said. "'T weren't nothing. Oh, here be Mrs. Gittings with the little 'un."
And there, as though to make my venture smoother than I had dared hope was Mrs. Gittings, emerging from the house holding Miranda by the hand.
"Miss Grant!" she cried.
I went hastily to her. I was aware of the driver watching intently so I turned to him and said "Thank you. I'll see you just before three o'clock."
He touched his cap with his whip and turned the horses.
"I must explain," I said.
"Oh, Miss Grant. I am surprised to see you. Have you come all this way to see me and Miranda?"
"I heard you were here with your sister, and Mrs. Baddicombe told me her name and where she lived. So this is where you always come with Miranda?"
"Yes. Did you want to ...?"
"To talk to you."
Miranda was gazing at me with curiosity.
"She looks very well," I said.
"It suits her. She's happy here."
Mrs. Gittings must have guessed that I was wary of talking before the child. She would be able to understand certain things and I did not want to say anything that would bewilder her.
"Come along in and meet my sister. We are having our midday meal early for Miranda. She sleeps for a couple of hours after. My sister will be pleased to see you. Then ... we can talk."
I guessed she meant when Miranda went to sleep, and was grateful for her tact.
Miss Ada Whalley had come out, hearing voices, to see who had arrived. She was a big-boned woman with muscular shoulders and her face was tanned by the weather.
"This is Miss Grant from the school, Ada," said Mrs. Gittings. "You know ... the school at the Abbey."
"Oh, that's nice," said Ada.
"She's come to have a talk ..." She nodded towards Miranda and Ada nodded back.
"I reckon," said Mrs. Gittings, "that Miss Grant could well do with a spot of dinner."
"I'm sorry to have come unannounced," I said. "I didn't quite know what to do and I thought Mrs. Gittings might help me."
"That's all right," said Ada. "We're used to people dropping in from the village, you know. They like to sample my stuff, they say. I've no objection. All home-grown."
"Even the pig," said Mrs. Gittings.
"He's little Piggy Porker," announced Miranda. "No, pet, little Piggy Porker is with his man, gobbling away. He's the greediest one in the litter." Miranda grunted in imitation of a pig and looked shyly at me as though for admiration.
"Oh dear," said Ada, "it sounds to me as if little Piggy Porker has got in here somewhere."
Miranda grunted and Ada pretended to look round in alarm. Miranda obviously thought it was a great joke. One thing was immediately clear. With these two, she would not be missing her mother.
"I'll take Miss Grant to wash her hands," said Ada.
I followed her up a wooden staircase to a room in which was a wash basin and ewer. Everything was so clean that it seemed to shine.
"You get a good view of the gardens from the back here," said Ada, and I looked out over the rows of growing things. There were two greenhouses and a potting shed.
"And you do all this yourself?"
"I've got a man to help. I'll have to get another by the way business is growing. Now Jane's here it's a help. She does a lot in the house. And you've come to talk with Jane. I hope you're not going to tempt her away. It's such company to have her here and I've always wanted us to be together."
"I haven't come to tempt her away. I just want to talk to her, to clear up a few mysteries."
When I had washed my hands she took me down. Mrs. Gittings was laying the table and Miranda was making a great show of helping her. There was a savoury smell of roasting pork coming from the oven and an air of supreme contentment in the little room in which we sat down to eat. The vegetables were delicious.
"Straight from the ground," said Ada. "That's the way to eat vegetables."