Mildred Pembrock gave the hessian bag a good tug as she tried to untangle it from the branch of an old apple tree. But it wasn’t going to budge. Now, with a look of sheer determination, she yanked it harder. 

An eyeblink later, the branch cracked, then broke off completely. Losing her balance, Mildred gave a loud yelp and fell backwards onto the ground taking the bag and half the branch with her.

‘What are you up to, Mildred?’ I yelled from the kitchen door. I’d come for my cup of tea just in time to witness my dearest friend and many times removed grandmother-in-law, pulling on the bag and the final outcome.

I raced up the garden and tried hard not to laugh when I saw her sprawled out with arms and legs akimbo. The branch, with the offending bag still entangled in it, sat on top of her. 

‘Honestly, Mildred, don’t you think you’re a bit too old for those capers?’ I shook my head, unable to contain my laughter any more. ‘I hope whatever’s in that bag was worth you nearly breaking your back for.’ I took the branch off her then grabbed hold of her hand to help her up. 

‘Oh Lordy, Veronica, just look at the state of me!’ Mildred started picking bits of leaf and a snagged twig off her cardigan. ‘I were just tryin’ t’ get that stupid bag off this branch. I haven’t the foggiest what’s in it.” She bent down and picked up the bag, then took a peep inside. ‘Hmm. Looks t’ me like some old rags,’ she said in disgust. ‘Let’s go and get that cuppa.’

It had taken years, but I'd finally managed to stop Mildred calling me, Miss Veronica. It seemed so stupid considering our discovery that she was actually related to us. 

The kettle had long since boiled, so Mildred switched it back on and put the teabags in the pot, followed by the newly boiled water. ‘While it’s brewin’ let’s take a look at what we’s got.’ 

I’d put the milk in our cups and now sat at the table while Mildred took the clothes out of the bag. 

‘Well, I weren’t expectin’ these.’ Mildred frowned and pulled a face.

The bag revealed a pair of men’s dark, ragged trousers, and definitely not of a style a man would wear today. There was also a long dress that I would date back to the early 14th century. 

The dress was in better condition than the trousers, but we couldn’t determine the actual colour due to how much it had faded. It could once have been blue, but looked more like grey. 

Mildred picked the dress up and held it against herself. The first thing I noticed was the enviable small waist. The length suggested it belonged to a young girl, not a woman.

‘Too small for me, then,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘It must’ve been really lovely back in the day.’ 

I nodded, and fingered the tiny pearl buttons that started at the neck and continued down the bodice, stopping at the hips where the skirt then dropped in soft folds. 

A shiver, as if someone was watching me, travelled through my body—I shook my head, trying to rid myself of a sudden weird feeling of doom. Hastily grabbing the trousers, I put them both in the sink. ‘We’ll have another look at them later; perhaps there’s a name inside one of them.’

Mildred had a distant look in her eyes, and obviously hadn't heard a word I'd said.

I gave her shoulder a gentle shake. ‘Mildred? Where are you?’

‘What? Oh, sorry, I’s just had a … Oh, tis nothing. What was you sayin’'? 

‘I said, we’ll take another look at them later. Michael will be in shortly.’

A smile crept over Mildred’s face, but not before I saw the troubled look in her eyes. I didn’t have time to ask her what was wrong, because the back door was thrown open and Michael, my son, came dashing in. 

He threw his satchel on the table and went straight over to the cake tin. ‘I’m starving!’

‘Michael Russell, you just hold up there.’ I went over and took the tin from him. ‘How about saying hello to me and your grandmother, first?’ 

At fourteen-years-old Michael was already a good six inches taller than his sister Ann and I, and a foot taller than Mildred. It wouldn’t be long before he caught his father up as well.

‘Hello Mum, hello Nan. Now can I have a cake?’ His smile, which could bring the devil to his knees, and his imploring eyes directed at Mildred, showed who was the one he knew would give in first. He went over and, before Mildred realised what he was going to do, he picked her up and gave her a kiss on both cheeks.

‘Oh Lordy, young Michael, put me down, I’s scared of heights!’ Her happy laughter rang out, and Michael had won.   

At that moment, Ann, my seventeen-year-old daughter, came in. ‘Hi Mum,’ she said, coming and giving me a kiss on my cheek. Then went over to give her Nan one as well. ‘Am I glad today’s over? I can relax a bit now the last of my exams are over for this year. Oh, can I have a cake? I’m famished!’

I rolled my eyes. ‘What is it with you two? Go on then.’

Before Ann took her cake, she noticed the clothes in the sink. ‘Whose are these?’ 

‘We don’t know,’ I told her. ‘Your grandmother found them. They’d got caught up in the apple tree.’

Ann touched the dress but quickly jerked her hand back. A puzzled frown creased her forehead; then with just her thumb and forefinger, she turned the dress over. I looked across at Mildred, and saw she was watching her, too. 

‘What is it, Ann?’ 

We had learned that, from a very young age, Ann was sensitive to psychic influences. Her abilities hadn’t shown up since she'd helped a young lad from the eighteen hundreds, called Daveth. Now I was worried they were coming back.

She shook her head, a look of puzzlement covering her face. ‘I don’t know, Mum. There is something about these clothes that isn’t right.’ She looked over her shoulder towards Mildred, frowned, and then grinned. ‘It’s probably my “overactive imagination”. My English teacher is always telling me that.’

Mildred grinned back, but underneath her casual dismissal, I could see she didn’t believe it. 

Nor did I.