I was crammed into the passenger seat of the car with everything I’d been carrying on the plane and my grandmother’s purse. We spent the first hour and a half of the drive in near perfect silence, only breaking it occasionally to discuss some landmark or other. Probably for that reason, Nora appeared shocked when I broke the relative silence.

“So, do you live in a town or a city?”

She paused for a moment, taking a breath before she answered me. “Your mother never told you about where she grew up?”

“I—” and only in that moment did it first occur to me that we had something in common. We’d both lost my mom. “She did tell me a bit, when I was younger. But we haven’t been really close since I was ten or eleven. Plus, a lot can change in twenty years.”

“Yes,” she smiled but kept her eyes firmly on the road. “Yes, a great many things can change.”

“So,” I prodded again, “what’s your house like?”

“I’m afraid it’s quite old, Adelaide. We’re trying to get it fixed up, but there’s a lot of work to be done. As you know, I haven’t lived there for many years. I’ve only been back a few years now once I retired.”

Just as we turned off onto another street, a small sign out my window welcomed us to Kendal. “It’s bigger than I thought it would be,” I said without thinking.

“Kendal is quite large compared to what it used to be,” she chuckled. “But the house isn’t technically in Kendal.”

“So…” We were reaching the other edge of the town and returning to countryside. “Where exactly do you live, then?”

“The small farmhouse is just past the edge of town. It used to be we couldn’t even see Kendall from the house, but it creeps up on us every day now.”

“You live in a small farmhouse?” I raised my eyebrow. “That doesn’t exactly sound like the house my mother described.”

A smile pulled at the corner of her lips, and she turned off the main road before speaking. “Perhaps it is not so little. I guess that will be for you to decide.”

This woman is playing me, I thought to myself when she finally stopped the car and the entire house was in view.

“This is what you call tiny?” I turned to face her, trying to judge her attitude from her facial expressions. The small glint in her eye made me suspect she knew what she was doing.

“So, in this tiny house, how many of us refugees do you keep?”

“I have you and three others,” she stated simply, not bothering to reply to my implied question of who they all were. “I expect you will see them all at dinner on any normal day. Today, of course, is not a normal day, so I can guarantee they will attend dinner to greet you.”

She opened the trunk of the car and walked around it. “I’ll meet you inside once you’ve got all your bags in,” she said matter-of-fact. “I expect you’ll want to change out of that American contraption.”

I looked down at the very casual outfit I was wearing. Jeans and a hoodie was an American contraption? I’m not even American!

I managed to lug my stuff into the house and to the foot of the stairs before Nora — I mean my grandmother — reappeared. Sweat was now mixed with the humid English air, causing my curls to cling to my cheeks like leeches. Using the back of my sleeve as a towel, I managed to push most of it out of my eyes, but was certainly not a pretty sight to see.

“Well, let’s get you up to your room, then.” Her arm swept toward the stairs, as if inviting me to go before her.

“I don’t think I can carry all of this up the stairs at once.” I looked at the seemingly growing pile at my feet. Was it possible my stuff was expanding? Or was the space that contained it simply getting smaller?

“Then I suppose you will have to do it in more than one trip,” she said. I could have sworn there was a smirk on her face. “Let’s go!”

To say the stairs were rickety and creaky was probably too kind. Even under her slight frame, they seemed to buckle and shift with each step. The wind blew through the house from an open window I couldn’t find no matter how hard I looked.

The top of the stairs opened up into a long hallway with doors lining both sides.

“Down the hall,” came Nora’s voice from behind me.

The floors creaked with each step and I steeled myself for what I was about to see. I was, after all, here to get this woman to like me. Somehow. So I could get out of here. And the rest of the house seemed as if no one had lived in it for a hundred years. So I was not holding out a lot of hope for my room.

A draft from my left sent a shiver through my ill-prepared body, and I pulled my sweater tighter around my chest. Whether because I was walking too slowly or some other imaginary slight, Nora stepped around me and sped off down the hallway to the second-last door on the right and swung it open, revealing even more cold air.

“This will be your room,” Nora said when I finally reached her. “I think you will find it has everything you need.”

I stood in the doorway with my arms wrapped around myself for warmth while she sped around the room, showing me all the ancient amenities such as a large armoire and a very small bed.

“The...” she began as she pushed past me into the hallway. “The… shower is this door here.”

I didn’t even get two steps into the hallway before she was done talking. “Towels are on the counter, dear. Is there anything else you need?”

You mean like warmth? Help carrying my bags? An exorcist? I shook my head. “Nope.”

“No, will do,” she said, firmly closing the door. “Dinner will be served at seven. I trust that is enough time. I shall be downstairs if you need me. Anyone here will know how to find me. Feel free to look around if you like.”

“Yes, thank you.” I forced a smile onto my face that I’m sure she saw right through, but I hoped the effort would count for something.

She whisked away down the stairs without another word, and I was left only with the friendly draft or hallway ghost for company. Might as well start with the bags.