Page 56 of The Secret Christmas Library

Roger came bounding up delightedly as they returned; the road had been ploughed to let the fire engines through, and they had successfully secured everything. The hedge was a black ruin, and the smell hung heavy, but the shape was still there. It could grow back.

Jamie made such a fuss of the dog, Mirren couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I thought he was a working dog!’

Roger came up for his rightful cuddle from her too.

‘He is,’ said Jamie. ‘From now on, he’s working as a petting animal.’

They advanced cautiously towards the ruins, having been warned by the fire brigade not to go anywhere near it or inside. It was a huge mass of rubble and mulch: all that money, all that wealth and power, now just so much muck and dust.

Esme had spirited Theo and the book off to the halt in the Land Rover.

Just before they’d left, there had been a roaring noise from the gates, and, charging up, there came a huge black motorbike ridden by someone in a leather jacket.

The noise was incredible as it came to a stop that sprayed ice everywhere.

‘Ian!’ came a yell as Bonnie, normally so staid, careered towards him.

The tall youth pulled off his helmet, revealing a shock of bright red hair, grabbed Bonnie as she ran to him, and gave her a full deep-throated snog in front of everyone.

They eventually came up for air and Ian gave them all a cursory glance.

‘Awright, aye?’ he said nonchalantly, as if he’d just popped by on his way somewhere else.

Bonnie put the spare helmet on excitedly, hopped up on the back of the bike, and they’d departed in a roar of smoke and gravel and snow.

‘What is it?’ said Jamie, seeing Mirren’s face.

‘I just . . . at one point I thought maybe she kept working here because she was in love with you.’

Jamie had thrown back his head and laughed. ‘Oh, my God. No. No, I don’t think it was that.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Mirren, moving closer to him again. ‘I don’t know why you think someone liking you is that funny.’

And he’d pulled her to him, very tightly.

Afterwards, back at Joy’s cottage, where they were staying, he paced up and down.

‘What are you thinking?’ she asked. ‘You need sleep.’

‘I can’t sleep,’ said Jamie. ‘I’m too wired.’

He looked at the photos on Mrs Airdrie’s old dresser.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘Bonnie’s three months older than me.’

Mirren raised her eyebrows. ‘Uh-huh,’ she said.

There was a pause, while she processed what he was trying to tell her.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to sleep on it?’

Jamie shook his head.

‘She tended him every day. My – our grandfather. She kept the house going, kept his room warm, tended him while the rest of us just complained. This is her home. What’s left of it.’

Mirren smiled. ‘Are you sure she won’t think you’re just giving her a pile of old rubble?’

‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Jamie.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I told you about the heritage people – they’d liked the back, but not the front?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, now it’s all the back.’

‘Oh!’

‘I really think they could do something with it.’

‘With the ruins?’

‘Uh-huh.’

When she came back the next morning, looking sleepy and happy, Bonnie listened for a long time, nodding seriously. Then she and Jamie made a plan together.

They would use the sale value of the book to pay off the council bill, then generally clean up, then lease the ruins to the heritage people, but it would be hers, and she would run it. They would keep a cottage each, and Esme could have the gardener’s lodge, if she wanted it.

‘What are you going to do for a real job?’ asked Bonnie.

‘I don’t know,’ said Jamie. ‘I’ve never had to think about it before.’ He looked at Mirren. ‘What’s being a quantity surveyor like?’

‘I can’t remember, and I’ve probably been fired,’ said Mirren.

‘Don’t start a podcast,’ said Bonnie.

‘Huh. Okay. Well, I’ll think about it.’

‘That maze needs to be regrown,’ said Bonnie thoughtfully.

Jamie smiled. ‘Are you going to hire me as a gardener?’

‘Got any better ideas?’

‘What are you going to do when he won’t kill the snails?’ said Mirren.

‘Turn him out of his house,’ said Bonnie. ‘Kidding!’

Mirren picked up an old photo again: Joyce as a young woman. She was lovely, with the same round cheeks and soft brown hair as Bonnie.

‘Do you think . . . afterwards . . later on in life, they maybe got back together?’

Bonnie shrugged. ‘I think . . . I don’t know. Who knows? I know he loved her all his life. And she loved him too, once.’ She gave Jamie a sideways look. ‘But sometimes, women are tougher.’

‘You’ll get no argument from me,’ said Jamie.

‘But you stayed,’ said Mirren. ‘How could you bear it? Weren’t you bitter?’

‘The old laird – he offered me all what youse had. The schools and university and that. I went to cooking school in Edinburgh, and I got homesick. I didn’t like the big city, don’t know how you can stand it.’

‘Hmm,’ said Mirren.

‘And the cost of finding a place to live! And all the apartments are just horrible! I mean, shoeboxes!!’

‘Hmm,’ said Mirren again.

‘Why would you do that, when you’ve got a lovely cottage for free, and you’re surrounded by such a beautiful landscape? And I got to be with my family and Ian’s got the next farm over, and all my friends are here, so . . . ’

Mirren was rather regretting ever starting to feel sorry for Bonnie.

‘He was kind, you know,’ said Bonnie to Jamie.

‘I know your mum told you all sorts of things and had all sorts of issues with him, and those kind of got passed on to you, but if you were patient and gentle and saw through the crustiness . . . he was just a little . . . different, that’s all.

There’d be a medical name for it these days. ’

Jamie nodded. ‘I feel sorry I didn’t know him properly.’

‘Better late than never,’ said Bonnie, and Jamie nodded emphatically. As she got up to go, he stood instinctively.

‘I’m sorry if I ever made you feel . . . ’ he began, and Bonnie shook her head.

‘Naw, don’t worry. We were always friends, eh? But when I knew and you didn’t . . . well.’

‘And we’re cousins!’ said Jamie, beaming. ‘That’s kind of cool. You’re much nicer than my sister. Don’t tell her I said that.’

‘I might introduce Esme to Ian’s biker gang,’ mused Bonnie. ‘If we’re all going to be family.’

‘That I want to see!’ said Mirren.

‘Don’t go,’ said Jamie the next morning, kissing Mirren’s naked body all over, as the sun beamed in, reflecting off the melting snow, and she was reading him a Burns poem from the compendium on the shelf and he was laughing at her terrible pronunciation.

‘I have to,’ said Mirren. ‘My mum will literally kill me, and I feel I am currently quite sorted for near-death experiences, on the whole.’

‘You know,’ said Jamie, ‘there’s a ton of books leftover. In outhouses and stuff.’

‘So?’ She looked at him. ‘I’m just saying . . . enough to start a bookshop. You know. If you knew of anyone who liked doing that kind of thing.’

‘Don’t tempt me.’

He pulled her back towards him in the warm bed.

‘Oh, my darling,’ he said. ‘I think that’s all I ever want to do.’

‘Run towards joy,’ said Mirren, sleepily. ‘Run towards you.’