Page 33 of The Secret Christmas Library
‘Well, I’m sure we could do something about that,’ he said.
The silence in the room was complete, apart from their breathing. Their breathing had become audible.
‘Well, FUCKING HELL!’ came a loud voice, and there was a huge bang, and the door of the library was thrown open.
19
‘So this is where it’s all going on,’ said the figure standing in the door with her hands on her hips.
Mirren and Theo whipped their heads round as if they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Jamie was behind the figure, and squeezed past her, none too gently.
‘Mirren, Theo – my sister, Esme.’
‘Yes, sorry, everyone, I’ve discovered your little game.’
The voice was disarmingly posh – Jamie’s voice was kind of posh, but Esme spoke like the late Queen in old black and white broadcasts, before she got told to sound more like her subjects.
She was tall and slender, with a razor-sharp haircut that accentuated her high cheekbones. Her hair was tipped in purple in a way that 99.99 per cent of mortals who weren’t five foot ten wouldn’t have a hope of getting away with, and she had tattoos almost everywhere. She was wearing heavy boots and combat trousers and was ever so slightly fabulous.
‘There’s no game, Esme,’ said Jamie. ‘I mean, apart from . . . well, there’s some kind of riddle thing . . . ’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’
‘Because,’ said Jamie, obviously trying to keep his temper, ‘every time I mention anything to do with Forres you sayoh God don’t bore me with that shit.’
‘Yes, and then I say,sell the entire damn thing and send me my money.’
‘There isn’t any money, Esme.’
‘That’s ridiculous. This place has thirty-six bedrooms; how can there be NO MONEY?’ She glared at Mirren and Theo. ‘And you’re obviously paying these guys. Someone told me they’d seen the train running, so I knewsomethingwas up.’
Jamie scowled. ‘I’m paying them with money from the job which I had. How’s your latest internship going? Or are you on another career break?’
‘You have NO IDEA what it’s like to try to make a living as a creative,’ said Esme.
‘Neither do you!’ sniped Jamie, and the atmosphere suddenly turned as cold as the snow outside.
The lights buzzed again.
‘Oh, yeah, the road’s shut,’ said Esme. ‘They’ve closed the snow gates as well.’
‘You shouldn’t have driven through it,’ said Jamie, his voice a little softer. ‘It’s dangerous.’
Esme snorted. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Me and the Landie know this place back to front.’
Jamie looked outside. ‘Well, I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I think “the Landie” is going to be buried in about six minutes.’
Esme cursed. Then she turned round and faced them all again.
‘So, what are you looking for, then? This place has been picked clean by vultures for years, you should know. That’s why there are all the gaps on the wall where pictures used to be. If there’s anything of value in this house, our mother would have sniffed it out years ago.’
‘Esme . . . ’
‘Did he tell you he was a lovely man?’ said Esme, addressing them.
‘I said he was complicated,’ said Jamie.
