Page 50 of The Secret Christmas Library

The room stared.

‘Mrs Airdrie?’ said Esme, stupidly.

‘Mrs Airdrie?’ echoed Jamie.

‘You didn’t know your housekeeper’s first name?’ said Mirren.

‘But that wasn’t her name!’ said Esme, screwing up her face. ‘Her name was Joyce.’

‘Yes, which she hated,’ said Bonnie. ‘Everyone called her Joy.’ She paused. ‘Everyone who knew her. Knew her well.’

Neither of the McKinnon children said anything to that.

‘Hang on,’ said Theo, looking excited. ‘Where is she now?’

Bonnie shook her head, and the other two looked stricken. ‘She died. Years ago. Breast cancer,’ said Bonnie, shortly.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Theo.

‘Your grandfather was very good to us,’ said Bonnie. ‘Left us the cottage. Left the trust for me. It’s why I still work here.’

They looked at her.

‘His room,’ said Mirren suddenly. ‘His lovely room. Fire, and pictures, and cosiness, and no dust or anything. You made it lovely.’

Bonnie smiled sadly. ‘I wanted to.’

Jamie looked confused.

‘The night – the one night I went out,’ said Bonnie, going white suddenly. ‘That was the worst night of my life. Apart from when I lost my gran. You don’t know. None of you really knew him. He was the best, kindest man I ever met in my life.’

Theo looked confused.

‘So how could we . . . what does he mean? Did he know she died?’

‘Of course,’ said Bonnie. ‘He was never the same after that. Not that anybody asked, or cared. He started hoarding, piling stuff up. He was obviously grieving, obviously deeply sad.’

Mirren looked at Jamie, who had come to exactly the same thought at the same point. He nodded, and rooted in the box by the side of the table. He pulled out one of the letters from the bedroom and held it up.

‘Bonnie,’ he said gently, ‘is this your grandmother’s handwriting?’

Bonnie looked at the letter and grew very pink.

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘And I don’t think you should be reading them.’

‘How old was she when your mother was born?’ said Esme, trying to soften her demanding tone.

‘None of your fucking business,’ said Bonnie. And with this, she disappeared back into the scullery.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Theo.

‘Run towards Joy?’ said Jamie. ‘He must mean . . . I wonder. Bonnie took the smaller cottage after Mrs Airdrie died . . . we thought it was being kept for other staff. Who never came, of course.’

‘Hang on,’ said Theo. ‘You know what this implies.’

‘If she was . . . I mean, Bonnie’s mum wouldn’t have had to work as a skivvy, would she, if she was the laird’s daughter?’ said Mirren. ‘That would be really . . . I mean. That wouldn’t happen. Would it?’

Esme and Jamie looked at her.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Jamie.

‘What?’

‘Bonnie’s mum didn’t work here. She was sent away to school; we never knew how or why.

She got a great job in Aberdeen. It was always a surprise that Bonnie loved being back here so much – that she ended up spending all her holidays and most of her childhood with her grandmother.

Nobody was more surprised than us when she applied for the job when her grandmother retired .

. . ’ His voice tailed off. ‘We grew up together.’

‘You behave as if you used to date sometimes,’ said Mirren.

‘Do we?’ He looked confused.

‘Or . . . like family?’

Jamie laughed ruefully. ‘Oh, my God,’ he said.

‘And nobody knew?’

‘There are always rumours in a big house,’ said Esme succinctly.

Jamie was rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Kids don’t understand anything, do they? It’s like trying to work out life from a poem. It’s exactly like the stupid acrostic. Nobody explains anything.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We grew up together. We were in that cottage all the time. Playing there all day. Then when we got to, like, thirteen or so . . . ’

He looked embarrassed.

‘Uh-oh,’ said Mirren.

‘No, no, nothing like that – Mrs Airdrie took me aside and said Bonnie was busy every time I went over and then . . . well, then I got sent away to school.’

‘Does Bonnie know?’

Esme’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. ‘She’s the one who nursed him. This house flows through her veins, upstairs and down.’

‘So odd,’ said Mirren. ‘You desperate to escape the place, her desperate to keep it.’

‘Who’s older?’ asked Theo. ‘Your mum or Bonnie’s mum?’

The siblings looked at one another.

‘Bon,’ said Jamie, calling her. She came.

‘I’m not talking about it,’ she said, fiercely. ‘My own dad was a ghillie. It’s all ancient history.’

‘I’m not . . . ’ Jamie said. ‘Okay. I just wanted to ask. Your gran’s old house . . . ’

‘The laird gave it to her and offered me the other one,’ said Bonnie immediately.

‘No, I’m not accusing you of anything . . . I’m just asking. How was it left?’

‘Just as it was,’ said Bonnie. ‘I would have cleaned it out if new staff had come but . . . they never did.’

There was another cracking tile on the roof.

‘It’s full of ghosts,’ she said.

‘Happy ghosts,’ said Jamie, remembering.

‘Oh, yeah,’ said Bonnie, looking at him. ‘A lot of happy times in that house.’

‘Did they . . . ’ Esme asked. ‘Did they rekindle their relationship?’

Bonnie shook her head. ‘He was . . . I mean, his family was here.’

Jamie bowed his head.

‘And by the time everything got settled . . . I think by then it was just too late. Too much had happened, too much time had passed. I think he was beginning to get really eccentric then, and my gran was busy with me and the house and, well, then she got sick, she had cancer on and off for years. He always tried to keep wooing her, though. Would always bring her things he thought she would like.’

Mirren understood immediately. ‘Books,’ she said.

‘Books,’ agreed Bonnie.

They were silent for a moment or so. Then Esme asked, ‘Is the cottage kept locked?’

‘Well, no,’ said Bonnie. ‘Generally, I feel if burglars were to stop by, they’d start at the place with the ballroom?’