“Katie where are you?” asked Julie. She had only turned her back for a moment, this place was enormous the perfect setting for my ghost story she thought.
Julie had confronted Sam after finding a very explicit message on his phone from someone called Fran and following a blazing row her husband admitted he had been sleeping with a woman who worked for him, Julie had then unceremoniously snatched up their daughter Katie and decamped to her mother’s home. Despite the warm welcome she had received Julie found it a bit of a strain living there, the flat was small and she felt it was not fair on her mother. Her best friend Sally offered to put her up while her solicitor worked on getting her very recalcitrant husband out of the family home (he had cancelled all the credit cards after she left and Julie had little money to call her own.) and was on the verge of accepting when an acquaintance of her mother’s hearing of her plight asked if Julie would like to house sit for her while she was in Canada.
Miss Kitteridge was an eccentric spinster, slightly older than her mother and had a large Tudor style house in the country, all Julie had to do was live there for a month while she was away but was given strict instructions not to disturb her doll collection in the old nursery.
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