Page 35 of The Secret Christmas Library
Mirren jolted with excitement. For a split second she didn’t want – and nor, she sensed, did Theo – to tell the warring siblings, who were still fussing and squabbling. It felt like something so magical that neither of them quite deserved it, particularly as they were so obviously used to behaving exactly how they wanted in front of the hired help. That was clearly a posh person characteristic: behave exactly how you like at all times.
Then Jamie said, ‘I’m sorry. I know this must be rotten for you as well. I’m doing my best, Esme. I can’t make something out of nothing. I am sorry.’ And Mirren remembered, again, the haunted look on his face. He hadn’t asked to be born into this ridiculous set-up. He was making the best of it. He was, she realised, a gentler character than she’d thought at first. Such a contrast to confident, noisy Theo.
‘You’re as useless as every McKinnon man,’ spat Esme, and Jamie looked even more wounded.
‘Ahem . . . ’ said Theo, commanding their attention.
‘What is it?’ Esme snapped.
‘I’m afraid it’s for Laird Jamie,’ said Theo, politely, but in a tone that brooked no argument. Esme stared at them, as if about to order them to be marched off somewhere, but just at that moment the door opened. Everyone turned to it to see Bonnie’s cheery, sweet face.
‘Good evening, Miss Esme,’ she said, and even Esme couldn’t not smile at Bonnie.
‘Christ,’ said Esme. ‘I cannot believe you’re still here.’
‘I’m not really,’ said Bonnie. ‘I died years ago in the attic and have come back to life as a ghost.’
This would have possibly been funnier if the wind hadn’t been whistling through one of what Mirren would later learn were fifty-two chimney pots.
Esme laughed. ‘These guys are being absolutelypissantSecret Squirrels about something they’re refusing to cut me in on. TELL ME you’ve got drinks.’
‘I’ve got drinks.’
‘Thank FUCK. Where are we down to, cellar-wise?’
‘We haven’t bottomed out yet. Plenty of grappa and absinthe.’
‘Perfect.’ Esme looked at them all and stood up, shaking her head. ‘Well, you guys keep grubbing about in this shit.I’mgoing with Bonnie. Is there a fire going anywhere?’
‘The Chinois . . . ’
‘Yes, yes, the usual. Perfect.’ And she swept out of the room.
Jamie winced. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Bit of a force of nature, my sister . . . Wait, what – you haven’tfoundsomething?’
Theo held up the book. ‘Not sure,’ he said. ‘Well, yes, I think so. I think, though, that we could do with gloves and tweezers before we go ferreting around in there; it’s incredibly old and fragile. Could all crumble to dust.’
As he said this, the tracing paper, which had made contact with the old glue, started to curl up and almost disintegrate. They all watched it. Theo showed Jamie the bear-shaped hole in the book, and his eyes widened.
‘Oh, wow!’ he said. ‘This is amazing! You did it already!’ He shook his head. ‘My bloody grandfather,’ he said. ‘All this effortand work put into this rather than, for example, teaching me some basic land management.’
‘Did you study it at university?’
‘Yeah,’ said Jamie. ‘Then I dropped out and joined the Botanic Gardens and, well, here we are . . . ’
Mirren was peering at the hole. ‘We probably do need tweezers, don’t you think?’
‘There’s something that takes ticks off the dog; that should do it,’ said Jamie.
‘No!’ said Mirren.
‘It’s alright,’ said Theo, pulling a box of disposable gloves and what looked like a small vanity kit – tiny scissors, needles and indeed a pair of tweezers – out of his canvas bag.
‘You came prepared, or just ready to exfoliate?’ said Mirren.
‘Mirren, I know you fell into this line of work, but I am actually someone who deals in antiquarian books,’ said Theo, with a faint edge of exasperation to his voice. ‘I came prepared . . . and actually, if we can reseal this book, I can probably get you a fair price on this as it is, without doing a thing to it. It’s a curio.’
‘What’s a fair price?’ said Jamie, and Theo said a number and Jamie said that wouldn’t replace a pipe in the East Wing and Theo said no, and so on they went, and they let him put the gloves on, and Mirren, holding the torch, watched as he very carefully fished around inside the compartment.
