Christmas With the Laird

by Scarlet Wilson

  She raised her eyebrows and pushed the box towards him.

  He teased as he held his hand over certain chocolates, waiting to see her expression. Finally he found one that didn’t make her flinch when he went to touch it. He glanced at the packaging to see what he was getting. “Nice. Chocolate fudge. I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid.” He popped it in his mouth. The sugar burst was instant. The chocolate melting as soon as it came into contact with his mouth and the soft fudge chewy. “Wow. These people really know how to make chocolate.”

  It was like an instant burst of energy. Just what he needed as the train rumbled through the dimming light. Maybe chocolate wasn’t just for women?

  He took a sip of the wine he’d ordered. He had no idea what kind she liked so decided to play safe and just order some rosé wine, even though he’d really wanted a beer. It smarted against his taste buds in response to the chocolate and fudge and drew his cheeks together.

  Juliette was watching him. She didn’t seem to have any problem with the wine and chocolates – she was on to her second glass. Just as well he had an extra bottle stashed away.

  She tilted her head as she held up her wine glass. “I love how your accent comes out sometimes. And some of the words you use. Half the time I have no idea what you’re talking about. Especially when you get angry. I hear all these fantastic words but don’t want to interrupt your rant and ask you what you mean.”

  He tilted his head towards her. “I rant?”

  She took another sip of her wine and leaned her elbows on the table. “You have been known to.” The colour in her face had cooled down and she was back to her normally, perfect-looking self, smiling at him with her big brown eyes.

  The camera just ate them up. Juliette was one of the few TV presenters he’d worked with who didn’t have an onscreen persona. What you see was what you got. He liked that. She was the same all the time, whether she was interviewing some crazy local about a haunted house, or sitting in the pitch dark waiting to see if a ghost would appear.

  This wasn’t the best job in the world, but it paid some of the bills. It had to. The money he’d inherited had been depleted by all the banking issues. One thing was clear – it wouldn’t last forever. Being responsible for an ageing property and tenants was like a never-ending drip, drip out of his bank account. Especially now that he knew the house needed part of the roof replaced. The next big snowfall could be a disaster. It had been on his mind a lot lately. Had he been ranting at work? He normally kept quiet and stayed in the background. It wasn’t like him.

  She was still smiling at him over the top of her wine glass. Now they were actually on their way, she seemed much more relaxed.

  “I didn’t know I was a ranter.”

  “Only sometimes. Particularly when you call people eeeejits.” She said the word slowly, trying to get it right, and it made him laugh.

  “Over the next few days I’ll introduce you to a whole host of Scottish words. Before you know it you’ll be using them all the time.”

  She shook her head. “How did you know about this haunted house anyway?”

  “Did I say it was haunted?”

  Her eyes widened. “You made it up?”

  He shrugged. “Are any of the places we go haunted?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “What about that place in Gloucester?”

  “Rats.”

  “And the place in Cambridge?”

  “Bigger rats.”

  She started to laugh. “I have to admit that a few times I’ve felt chills. No reason for it. And they’ve just come out of nowhere.”

  He picked out another chocolate. Blackcurrant. He’d never had one of those before. No wonder she was guarding these chocolates – they were delicious. “That’s because crazy Rufus the ghost whisperer has you whipped up into a frenzy with his stories of weans being tortured and murdered in some of the places we’ve visited.” Rufus did the voiceover on the TV series and made his living talking to ghosts. No one believed him for a second.

  “Weans?”

  “You know – children. You know what it’s like by the time we reach the location. You’re on edge to start with; it makes your mind do crazy things.”

  “And yours doesn’t?”

  “I’ve done enough crazy things in this life, Juliette. My brain couldn’t cope with any more.”

  She leaned forward on her elbows. “Now that sounds interesting, spill.”

  But the waiter appeared with a menu to ask what they wanted for dinner. Travelling in first class had its advantages. It was a simple choice of chicken or beef and the train journey flew past, leaving them in Glasgow Central to grab a coffee before they caught the next train.

  “Is someone picking us up at the station? Or can we walk to the house?”

  He shook his head. “Not likely. The house is six miles away from the station. My car will be left at the station. I’ve got my keys so it won’t take long to get there.”

  “We’re staying in the actual house – not a hotel?”

  “Of course not. Where’s the fun in that?”

  She looked distinctly uncomfortable. They didn’t usually stay in the houses they filmed in – mainly because most of them were ruins. But Garnock Hall was different. It was a slightly dishevelled but still functioning dusty building. As long as the electricity and heating worked they should be fine.

  “For the whole time?” It was clear she would take some convincing.

  “Trust me. It’ll be fine.”

  It was pitch black outside as the train sped through the Ayrshire countryside. Daylight hours were short during winter in Scotland. He only hoped the car would start when they reached the station.

  “So what happened this year?” He was being nosey. But Juliette usually did something spectacular with her boyfriend and family every Christmas. “Kenny said you were single, when did that happen?”

  “When Rod decided that an eighteen-year-old topless model was what he really, really wanted.”

  “Wow. Harsh. What about the family holiday?”

  “I couldn’t face my mother patting my hand and telling me there’s plenty more fish in the sea. Plus my sister would be there with her wonderful husband and 2.4 kids and I just couldn’t stand the thought of plastering a smile on my face all the time. Kenny wouldn’t give me more than a week’s holiday anyhow. No point in going to Barbados for a week.”

  He’d stopped listening midsentence. “Why would you feel the urge to plaster a smile on your face around your family when you feel like crap?”

  She flinched. Maybe he’d been too direct. But it was clear that a family holiday was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

  She sucked in a breath. “Because no one wants to be around a misery guts at Christmas time.” She sounded sad.

  He had an overwhelming urge to reach across and hug her. Juliette was a good person. He didn’t like seeing her sad. He’d always thought her boyfriend Rod was a prat. But he didn’t need to be proved right at her expense.

  It was time to lighten the mood. “Oh well, I guess I better not tell you that you’ve just got in tow with the Christmas Grinch.”

  The corners of her mouth started to turn upwards as she grabbed another chocolate. “You? Surely not?” She took a bite of the chocolate. “But Andrew, you’re such a happy, smiley person.” Her voice was loaded with sarcasm and he shifted in his seat. Maybe the strong silent type scenario he’d adopted down here was coming across a little different.

  His fingers brushed hers as he reached for another chocolate. “Are you to trying to tell me I’m grumpy?”

  She held out the box of chocolates towards him. “You can be. Here, I’ve decimated this whole box. Save me from myself. Eat some more.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry, Juliette. You look fine.”

  “But haven’t you heard – the camera adds ten pounds?”

  His eyes drifted down her body. It was strange. He’d looked at Juliette’s body in front of the camera fo
r months, but had never considered her that way. She was like most TV presenters – gorgeous and easy on the eye. But he’d always known she was attached, and she didn’t seem like the kind of girl to fool around so he’d never really thought about her that way. It was amazing what a pile of underwear, an unexpected trip and two people in close quarters could do to a guy.

  “You still don’t need to worry.” It seemed the simplest thing to say. Even if it didn’t relate at all to what was currently going on in his brain.

  The train stopped and a couple of youths got on singing and swaying their way along the train aisle. One of them stopped dead. “It’s her.”

  “Who?” His friend looked up, a glazed expression on his face. It was obvious they’d been drinking, but they were at the happy stage. Hopefully they’d stay that way until Andrew and Juliette had left the train.

  “You know, the ghost woman from Haunted Ever After.” He nudged his friend again.

  Juliette gave a polite smile and averted her eyes quickly.

  But the young man wasn’t put off. He bent down towards her. “Was there really a ghost in that old castle or did you make it all up.”

  Andrew leaned forward straight away, putting his hand on Juliette’s knee. “Of course we make it all up. It’s all smoke and mirrors. You guys must know that.”

  It was almost as if he’d staked his claim and the two guys backed off, mumbling to each other as they made their way down the train.

  Juliette waited a few minutes until they’d sat down. “Is that what you think?” Her nose was wrinkled and she was staring at him with a strange expression on her face.

  “What?”

  “That everything we do is smoke and mirrors?”

  He couldn’t believe she even wanted to go here. “Don’t you?”

  She straightened up and pushed the chocolates away. She was obviously serious. “You mean, in all the time you’ve worked on the show you’ve never seen anything, ever, that made you a little curious?”

  He shook his head.

  “But what about the place you’re taking us to? The local place?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a local legend about it being haunted, passed down through the years. The legend and folklore will work well for the show.” He waved his hand. “You’ll have plenty of airtime talking about it, I’ll even find you some locals to give you their slant on the story. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  The train slowed to a halt and he stood up and gathered their bags, the camera and sound equipment. Everything was lightweight these days but there was still a lot to carry. Juliette scrambled to collect all her plastic carriers. It was pitch black as the train doors opened and his warm breath froze in the bitter cold air.

  Juliette shuddered. “Wow, bit of a temperature drop. How long will it take to get to the house?”

  They crossed the car park and he pulled the keys for the ancient Land Rover from his pocket. Juliette’s steps faltered. “Does this thing actually work? How old is it?”

  He smiled. “Nearly as old as me. I like to call it vintage.”

  “I like to call it a wreck.”

  He pulled open the passenger door, “Get in, it should only take ten minutes to reach the house.”

  She climbed in and he got in the driver’s side, turned the key and prayed the engine would start. The car would have been left here this morning by one of the staff. She was right it was a wreck. But as long as it got them to Garnock Hall he didn’t care. The engine spluttered once, then twice, then finally gave a little hopeful rumble.

  He gritted his teeth and turned the key again. This time the engine started and he shot her a smile as they pulled out the car park.

  Big white flakes of snow had just started to fall. “Whoa,” said Juliette, smiling. “You’re even trying to give me a white Christmas?”

  He shrugged. “Well, hey, you couldn’t get to Barbados,” he raised his eyebrows, “And we can’t live the entire next few days on chocolates alone.”

  She settled back in her seat and smiled. “Don’t hold out any hope for Christmas dinner. I had a perfectly good meal-for-one back home. That’s as good as my cooking skills get.” She pushed her hand forward and back. “In the oven, out the oven. My work is complete.”

  He groaned. “To be honest I hadn’t really given Christmas dinner much thought.”

  “I thought you planned to come up here?”

  “Only in the last two days. There are problems with the roof. It’s kind of an emergency visit.”

  The car turned up the familiar driveway. From here the house was still hidden. He just prayed that the electricity would be working and the oil delivery for the heating system had arrived. Otherwise this would be a cold, dark night.

  *

  This hadn’t been how she’d seen Christmas going at all. The lonely girl with the lop-sided tree and the silver tray meal was gone.

  The thought of a haunted house over Christmas wasn’t entirely appealing either. But being with Andrew made it feel not so bad. She shot him another sideways glance.

  He was more than a little handsome. He was probably better looking than most of the male television presenters she’d worked with over the years. And the female audience would die if they could hear that Scottish accent. A thought flickered through her brain. If she’d actually captured that fight between him and the director and uploaded it to YouTube it probably would have had a million hits by now and Andrew would have been offered his own show by now. He was even more cute when he was mad.

  “What’s up?”

  His voice came out the darkness and startled her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re staring at me. Don’t tell me I’ve got chocolate on my face.” He reached his hand up and rubbed it roughly over his face.

  She felt her face flush. There was something about sitting in complete darkness that made her feel safe to stare. Too bad she’d been caught.

  A shape came looming out of the darkness. A silhouette against the black night. The house was much bigger than she’d imagined. It was like a proper country house estate. She’d thought they were still on a country road but realised they were actually on the driveway to the main house. The few houses they’d passed some moments ago must be part of the estate.

  Andrew pulled the car up to the main house and opened the door. She climbed out next to him and turned to face the grounds. The snow was beginning to lie on the grass in front of them, making it easy to see the expanse of the area. “What, no welcoming committee?”

  She tried to make her voice seem carefree but with not a single light on in the house it was an imposing structure. From this point of view, she could imagine why there were legends about the place. The building was old, really old, with slightly strange architecture. Most of the grand houses they visited were built from light-coloured sandstone with traditional windows and doors. This was different. It was like a cross between a castle and a huge estate house. The brick was dark grey, making it seem even more imposing. From the outline above it was almost like there was a turret structure on the roof. She couldn’t wait to see this place in daylight. Come to think of it, she just couldn’t wait until it was daylight.

  “It’ll be fine in a minute when I get some lights on,” Andrew murmured next to her.

  The snow was covering her in a light dust. She certainly didn’t want to be stuck outside tonight, the temperature must be well below zero.

  Andrew pulled a key from his pocket. It was huge, almost gothic-looking and he unlocked the door with a huge click, putting his shoulder to the door to open it.

  How bizarre, but as the door swung open she realised it was nearly a foot thick. She stepped gingerly inside after him. The pitch blackness enveloped her immediately and she sucked in a deep breath.

  There was a familiar smell. Oldness. Time after time. The smell of hundreds of years of lives lived and gone before. It was the one thing that was familiar in any of the buildings they visited – any of those with a roof on.<
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  His hand reached over and grabbed hers. The warmth surrounded her completely, sending a little rush up her arm. Immediately reassuring. And a little something else too. “I need to go to the breaker switch. One of the lights must have blown. Do you want to stay here?”

  She shook her head quickly. Her imagination was racing already just waiting for the mad axeman to appear screaming at the door behind her or from the dark space in front of her.

  He gave her hand a little tug. “Let’s go, it’s this way.”

  She gave a shudder and let herself follow him into the complete blackness. Andrew seemed to have no problem navigating. They walked through one room then another, before he wrestled with a cupboard door and knelt down.

  It was the strangest feeling. “How come you know where to look? And why wasn’t there anyone here to meet us?”

  It was almost as if he hadn’t heard her. “Give me a second. It’s a bit of a fankle in here.” She smiled. Fankle. She’d need to look that one up too.

  Andrew flicked something in the cupboard and the room lit up behind her. Maybe ‘lit up’ wasn’t the right expression. Lights came on in the room, but instead of brightness they gave a warm, yellow glow. An old-fashioned glow. It seemed that Garnock Hall wasn’t as up to date as she might have hoped.

  Andrew stood up. He was so close the fabric of his shirt brushed against her nose. Now that the house was lit up she instantly realised how intimate this was. His green eyes were looking down on hers. There was a tiny little scar underneath his chin. She’d never noticed it before.

  He gave her a smile and held her gaze. The room was cold, but all she could feel was heat emanating from the body in front of her.

  He spoke softly. “Juliette Connolly, welcome to Garnock Hall.”

  She tipped her head up towards his as a strange feeling swept over her. “So, where’s the owner? Where’s our welcoming committee?”

  “They’re here.”

  She spun around, half expecting to see someone standing behind her. When she didn’t, she turned back around, breathing in a whiff of his aftershave.

  “It’s me. I’m the owner. I own Garnock Hall, Juliette.” He held out his arms. “Welcome to my haunted house.”