Page 18 of The Secret Christmas Library
‘Like being a hoarder,’ said Mirren suddenly. ‘Except he never ran out of space.’
‘Yes, I think that’s exactly it. It was never quite this bad, was it?’ he said, glancing at Bonnie, whose face looked gentle. ‘Not when we were bairns.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Bonnie. ‘My ma would complain about it then. Maybe we just didn’t notice it.’
‘Maybe we liked it,’ said Jamie, and they shared a look.
‘Aye, we did,’ said Bonnie.
‘Forts, endless bloody forts,’ said Jamie. ‘And Esme kept making Wendy houses and boys weren’t allowed in.’
‘I wasn’t allowed in either,’ said Bonnie with a snort, and Mirren let them reminisce. Upstairs downstairs, she thought, and wondered if there was more than that.
‘Well, anyway,’ said Jamie. ‘He got married to my grandmother.’ Another look shared with Bonnie. ‘Who was, uh . . . anyway. And they had my mother, just before their marriage broke up.’
‘Goodness knows how,’ said Bonnie, and Jamie grimaced, but Bonnie didn’t look as if she’d remotely stepped over the mark, even though dissing people’s grandmothers tended to be on the avoidance list as far as Mirren had always been concerned. Maybe that made her common.
‘And then she grew up and married and then divorced my dad, who lives in Dubai with his second wife, and my mum lives in Perth with her third husband, Plumber Boy Jim – Perth, Australia, that is, not actual Perth down the road. I have a clutch of half-siblings here and there whom I don’t know, and then there’s me and Esme and, well, my grandfather died last month. And left...’
‘A right bloody mess,’ said Bonnie.
Mirren frowned. ‘Your mum didn’t inherit?’
‘Primogeniture,’ said Jamie. ‘Sorry. It’s about penises and stuff. They keep meaning to change it in parliament but then they find they have stuff to deal with that affects more than four families a year, so we slip down the list a bit.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Mum didn’t want it anyway. She spent everything she could find and buggered off. Hoarders, she and my grandfather both.’
‘And we don’t blame her,’ said Bonnie stoutly.
‘No – no, we don’t,’ said Jamie. ‘But it’s my problem now.’
Theo looked around. ‘Right,’ he said, nodding. ‘I think I understand. I see this a lot.’
Mirren was peeved that he appeared to be taking charge. On the other hand, it was true, he did have more experience than she did. Because booksellers were often needed at estate sales when someone rich died, and the relations either desperately needed cash or just wanted the books gone. His handsome face looked concerned as he picked up his hand and started ticking off on his long fingers.
‘Would the National Trust want it?’
‘The Heritage Foundation? Neh, we’ve tried. There are about two thousand castles in Scotland. It’s basically the equivalent of trying to send a cow to a zoo. They like the back bit – it’s ancient, the old stone towers and the chapel. But it’s covered in the front bit: the turrets and the wedding cake stuff.’
‘Those are the bits I like,’ interjected Mirren.
‘I know, but apparently it’s vulgar and just gets in the way. They areverypicky.’
‘Okay. Hotel chains?’ said Theo.
‘For various reasons, to do with kestrels and bats, you can build stuff – houses, or a hotel – but you can’t put another road here.’
Theo frowned. ‘So there’s just that muddy path? Goodness, you are in a pickle.’
‘Uh-huh,’ said Jamie, the weight of the world on his shoulders. Bonnie patted him gently on the arm, Mirren noticed.
‘But the train!’ said Mirren. ‘The train is awesome . . . ’ Her voice trailed off as everyone looked at her.
‘But you couldn’t actually have a proper station here,’ explained Jamie. ‘And even if you could, you can’t have a road to connect it with everything.’
‘Because of the bats,’ said Theo, ticking off another finger.
‘Batsare one of your fingers?’ said Mirren.
‘You don’t know a lot about old Scottish houses,’ said Theo.
