1919. The Great War has ended, and forty-year-old Ruth Courthope Seer stands at last on her own land, Thorpe Farm, earned through decades of struggle in a world that valued neither women nor dogs like her beloved Aberdeen terriers. She kisses her hand to this "exquisite, delicious" place, this house perched high where she can see the dust-white road to station, the green fields, the good brown earth, the valley and hill stretching to the downs and the sea beyond. Spring has come late but in surpassing beauty, and Ruth, who has never been extravagant, allows herself this one indulgence: a home. But something stirs in the soil. As she plants seeds and stakes sweet peas, she becomes aware of the man who held this land before her, a presence on the other side of something she cannot name. What begins as a solitary woman's hard-won peace becomes something stranger: a connection that blurs the boundary between memory and haunting, between the living and those who came before. Barnett writes with quiet precision about what we inherit without asking, the land, the losses, the invisible threads that bind us to strangers.
