Page 52 of The Secret Christmas Library
‘What’syourmum’s mobile number?’ said Mirren, stung.
The receptionist recited a series of numbers. ‘I’m very close to my mother,’ she said.
‘Okay, well, is Nora there?’
‘No, she’s on her day off.’
Mirren sighed. ‘Well, can you tell her I rang, and that I’m stranded in the big storm in Scotland?’
‘What big storm in Scotland?’
‘The big snowstorm that’s cut off the electricity?’
‘Not heard anything about that.’
Jamie and Esme were making faces and shaking their heads.
‘Oh,’ said Mirren.
‘It’s raining here.’
‘Okay. Well. Can you tell her I’ll be home when I can? I’m just chasing down a book.’
The woman paused for a moment. ‘You’re the one who found that old Stevenson, aren’t you?’
‘Um, yes . . . ’ said Mirren.
‘Yeah. I used to be a librarian. You were in all the library periodicals.’
‘Fame at last,’ said Mirren, as Theo, listening in, looked fierce.
‘So you’re looking for another one now, are you?’
‘Yeah,’ said Mirren. Then, on impulse, ‘How wouldyoutrack down a missing book?’
The woman laughed, and for the first time didn’t sound grumpy at all.
‘Well, I’d make a guess at some of the regulars . . . but then I’d put in the ISBN number, I suppose.’
‘The ISB what?’
Suddenly Theo’s head shot up. He gesticulated madly for her to hang up the phone.
‘Um, thanks. Uh, just tell my mum I’m fine, okay?’ Mirren managed to say, before Theo practically hung up for her. ‘What?’ she said to him.
‘The whole of Britain thinks “weather” means London weather,’ Esme was grumbling, but Theo was still agitated.
‘No. No,’ he said. ‘I’m an idiot. Anidiot. Wasting time with this stupid phone . . . ’
‘Don’t you want to call your family?’
‘Ssh. And stupid birds . . . ’
‘I thought wild goose chase was quite clever, actually,’ said Jamie quietly.
Theo took the piece of paper.
‘Books have something called ISBN numbers. International Standard Book Numbers. Every book has them. Thirteen digits.’
