Christmas With the Laird

by Scarlet Wilson

  Andrew laughed as he switched the camera off. “I think that old doors, old handles and old hinges and one wee draft can explain everything!”

  “You don’t believe there are actually ghosts in Garnock Hall?” She was still curious he was so adamant about things. It was as if he didn’t have a single doubt.

  “I’ve never thought there were ghosts in Garnock Hall – just a whole load of old wives’ tales.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “But you brought me up here to film, saying that this house was haunted.”

  He swung the camera low. “I know that. And if you ask anyone in the village they’ll say they think it is. If you do a google search on Garnock Hall, you’ll hear it described as a ‘haunted mansion’. Just because I don’t think it’s haunted doesn’t mean that the rest of the world agrees.”

  They were walking towards the kitchen now where they would film the last segment. Juliette couldn’t hide the serious expression on her face. “You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”

  Somehow he knew this answer was important. The tone of her voice, the whole stance of her body had changed. It was amazing what a cameraman’s eye could pick up. When Juliette was getting angry she had the tiniest tick under her left eye. No one else would notice. But Andrew did.

  He sighed. “I’m just saying that I’ve never seen anything that’s convinced me that ghosts exist.”

  She stared at him. “You mean, in all the houses we’ve visited – all the ruins – you’ve never seen anything, felt anything that made you wonder?”

  Now he was curious. “And you have?”

  The tick appeared instantly. But it wasn’t the tick that bothered him. It was the slight tremor in her voice. She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking behind him, focusing on something else. Why didn’t she want to look at him? Was he making her uncomfortable?

  She hesitated. “It’s just…I’ve never seen anything to convince me. But I’ve never seen anything to not convince me either.” She shook her head, “That doesn’t make sense. Haven’t you ever felt anything when you walk in a place? A coldness. A chill. Just from being in the place?”

  He’d always thought that Juliette just treated this as a job. He’d never thought she actually believed. “Lack of heating. A draft. All of those things can be explained.”

  “Not when they make you feel something in here.” She pressed her hand to her heart.

  He didn’t know what to say. His stomach churned. Did she know something? Had she sensed something in Garnock Hall? Because if she had, this conversation had to end now.

  “Where did you go upstairs, Juliette?”

  Her face instantly flushed. Now she was looking at him. And the expression on her face told him everything he needed to know.

  But he couldn’t deal with this. He’d spent the best part of twenty years not dealing with this.

  “Juliette?”

  “I wasn’t sure what room to look in. I had to open a few doors…,” her voice tailed off.

  “And what? You went snooping? You looked in my mother’s room?” Something flitted across her eyes and his heart lurched. “You looked in my brother’s room?”

  He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he’d invited her here and she’d done this.

  She walked over and touched his arm. “I didn’t mean to. I was just looking for the decorations. I didn’t realise it was Douglas’s room until I was right inside.”

  He flinched as she said his brother’s name. “Parts of this house are private, Juliette. I shouldn’t need to spell it out to you. You’re an adult. You should know. There are some places that are only for family.”

  She blinked. Her eyes were filling up with unshed tears. “You haven’t touched his room. You’ve left it just the same.”

  How dare she? How dare she comment on something so personal? His teeth were clenched. He couldn’t remember feeling so angry. “That’s none of your business!”

  She stepped back – looking visibly shocked. Andrew had never raised his voice at her before.

  “You’re right. It’s not. I’m sorry, Andrew. I didn’t mean to look in your brother’s room.” She turned and walked towards the kitchen again. “Let’s get this filming finished.”

  He let her walk away while he took a few moments to gather himself. The sooner this was finished the better. He needed some time to cool off. He needed some time to collect his thoughts. He shouldn’t have snapped at Juliette. Any chance of a merry Christmas was disintegrating around them both.

  Juliette, ever the professional, was looking poised, cool, calm and collected. It was only he that could notice the tremble in her fingers. He gave her the three, two, one countdown with his fingers. “Our final candidate for the haunting of Garnock Hall is ten-year-old kitchen maid, Annie Smith.” Juliette was standing in front of the giant fireplace in the kitchen. “In years gone by, large metal pans of water were heated on the fire. Often the children who were assistants in the kitchen struggled to carry the heavy water. In 1856, Annie was reported to have been ‘scalded’ by an overturned pail of boiling water.” Juliette grimaced as she said the words, “We couldn’t find a death certificate for Annie. But records for the house show that she died from her burns.” Juliette’s face was grave. “I can only imagine how painful and distressing that must have been for a little girl.” She laid her hand on the fireplace. “This is still the original fireplace and flagstones. Standing here today, makes me want to cry. Do you think our ghost could be Annie Smith?”

  She was looking at the camera as she said those final words, pain etched across her eyes. The whole world would think it was all part of her presenting skills. But Andrew knew differently. As he moved the camera from his shoulder she gave an obvious shudder.

  He couldn’t think straight. Was she shuddering at being here, in Garnock Hall, because she believed it was haunted? Or was she shuddering at the prospect of his flash of temper and being alone with him?

  “Is that a wrap?” The pained expression had fallen from her face to be replaced by a hard glare.

  “Yes. It was perfect.” She hadn’t hesitated once. She hadn’t needed to refer to any notes. Juliette had read everything she could on the history of Garnock Hall and come up with dialogue that would match whatever they filmed perfectly.

  Now, it was his turn to set up the overnight, infrared cameras. He almost couldn’t be bothered. But the audience seemed to like dark footage with no obvious action apart from a flickering curtain or a wayward cat. Strange noises seemed to be the favourites, with opening door latches or the sound of footsteps being the most popular. All of them were edited in later. There had only ever been one occasion where something had appeared on film for a millisecond that they couldn’t explain. It had appeared on every trailer for Haunted Ever After since, along with a scream from a member of the crew.

  “Good night then, Andrew. I’ll see you in the morning.” She turned and her heels clicked across the floor. It was like a countdown to everything he’d done wrong so far.

  Guilt. That was what he felt right now.

  Guilt about not having the guts to enter his brother’s untouched room, and guilt about bringing Juliette to a place he was unprepared for.

  Guilt about not acting on instinct earlier and kissing her. Letting a gorgeous, incredible woman, that he’d be honoured to be involved with – and had just been dumped by someone else – think that he might not find her attractive enough to kiss.

  He truly needed his head examined.

  The lights flickered in the kitchen again. He really needed to get someone to look at the wiring. That would be another fortune.

  He switched off the main lights and headed for the stairs.

  Tomorrow, was Christmas Day.

  He’d make it a success if it killed him.

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  It was midnight and he must have slept for around ten minutes. The house was freezing again and even though he’d four blankets on the bed his feet were icy
cold. He felt like a pensioner.

  It was no use. He sat up and pulled on his clothes. There was only one thing for it. His brain had been spinning for hours. He’d forgotten all the instructions for the Christmas recipes. He might be able to cobble together the lentil soup, but he was praying Juliette would remember how to cook the turkey. Didn’t they need to put that on about nine in the morning?

  He walked over to the window and pulled back the heavy curtains. Snow, for as far as the eye could see.

  In years gone by, a view like this would have had Douglas and him shrieking with pleasure. Two snowmen would be built before a single Christmas present was opened.

  The thought was like a shard of ice going through his heart. He spun on his heels. It was time. No matter how much he tried to ignore it – it was time.

  The door handle was icy cold as he touched it but he pulled the door open and started striding down the corridor. He couldn’t think about this for a second longer. Thinking only gave him reasons not to do it.

  His footsteps faltered as he neared the door to Douglas’s room. He closed his eyes and kept walking, grabbing the handle and pushing the door wide open.

  The icy blast hit him instantly.

  It was a shock to the system. The window in Douglas’s room was slightly ajar, leaving a small trail of snow on the inside window ledge.

  But it was his eyes that were working overtime. Associations were sparking inside his brain like fireworks. Douglas’s favourite books lying on the floor next to the bed. His train set. His desk. A photo of them together on top of the chest of drawers. A pair of battered slippers.

  Every sight made him wince. Every sight turned his stomach over a little more. The board games they’d played together. Douglas had been a cheater. He didn’t like to lose.

  The pale blue bedspread that Douglas had picked all by himself. He sucked in a breath and his body tensed. Last time he’d seen his brother he’d been lying in this bed, under that cover. His frail, pale body withering away before his eyes.

  The little boy, who had boundless energy and enthusiasm had had the life slowly drained out of him. His condition had worsened quickly. He couldn’t eat. His muscles wasted and he spent most of his time sleeping.

  And then he went to sleep one final time.

  The chill that spread over Andrew’s body was nothing to do with the room temperature. His legs buckled and he collapsed on the corner of the bed.

  It took a few seconds for his breathing to settle and his heart to steady in his chest. Tears sprang into his eyes. His hand brushed over the bed cover. “I’m sorry, Douglas. I should have come long before this. But I just couldn’t. I miss you. I miss you every day.”

  He let the words hang in the air, knowing there was no one to hear them but him. They echoed around the icy room.

  He took a deep breath. He was here. It had taken him all this time to get here, so he had to use his time well.

  “I’ve brought someone here. Her name is Juliette. She’s nice. You’d like her – at least I think you would. It’s hard thinking of you as a grown-up. Because in my head, as I’ve grown up I’ve thought about you growing up with me. I haven’t been doing it alone. I’m not designed that way. I can’t think about you as being eight. Because that means you’re not here anymore. Not with me.” He pressed his hand to his chest as he stared out of the window. Across the view that his brother must have looked at every day when he was sick.

  “I think I brought Juliette with me because I didn’t want to come back myself. I couldn’t come back myself. And now that I’m here…I just don’t know. She’s beautiful. She’s intelligent.” He smiled. “You’d like her because she fights with me. Keeps me in my place.” He took another look around. “And she seems to love this place. We’re filming this crazy TV show about houses that are haunted. You know what I think of that. Mum still doesn’t know that we used to sneak down and open all the doors at night. Or that we used to put all the pans on top of the stove.” He shook his head. “But Juliette doesn’t look at this place and see it the way I do. She doesn’t see the Christmases lost. She doesn’t see the money pit that I do. She thinks it’s wonderful. She thinks I should hire it out for TV dramas or weddings. Can you imagine anyone wanting to get married here?”

  Even as he said the words out loud it didn’t seem quite so ridiculous as before. It might even be sensible.

  He touched the bed again and a whole wave of old emotions reignited.

  He might be thirty, but right now he felt twelve again. The twelve year old who’d just been told his eight-year-old brother had died.

  For a second he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t inhale. There was a weight pressing down on his chest. A tear slid down his cheek.

  He hadn’t cried. He hadn’t allowed himself to cry. His father had told him to keep his chin up. It was expected. So, he had.

  He stood up, trying to release the pressure on his chest. His hand caught the dressing gown hanging on the back of the door. He hadn’t even realised it was still there.

  Douglas had loved this dressing gown. Spiderman was sewn on the back and across the front pockets. He grabbed it from the hook and pressed it into his chest and face. There was no smell. Nothing of Douglas left. But there was a bump in the pocket.

  He reached in and pulled something out. It was a ring. He turned it over in his hands. His mother’s engagement ring. He hadn’t seen this in years. With her increasing dementia he just presumed that she’d lost it someplace.

  It was a ring of its time. Tremendously old-fashioned but elegant. A large dark blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds. Douglas had loved this ring. He’d used to lie with his head on his mother’s lap and spin the ring around her finger. He could spend hours doing that – especially when he was sick.

  Andrew shook his head. He couldn’t believe that after all this time, this ring was here. Inside his brother’s dressing gown. He held it in the palm of his hand watching the dim light in the room glint off it.

  It made him smile. Suddenly the grief and guilt pressing down on his shoulders started to ease. He still loved Douglas with his whole heart. He always would. He’d spent his happiest years with his brother, in this house.

  He’d let Garnock Hall become a relic. An unloved memory of the distant past. It had become an empty museum. There was no love here. There was room for only ghosts.

  White flakes of snow started to drift across the room, floating in on a gust of wind. One landed on his hand next to the ring and melted quickly. He stood up and pushed the ring in his pocket.

  There was a rustle by the door. He turned. Juliette. Her face was pale in the dim light. “Andrew?” she whispered. “Are you all right?”

  Her foot hesitated at the door. She was wearing a pair of pyjamas that she must have found in a drawer somewhere, at least three pairs of her socks and her winter coat again. It was clear she didn’t want to step in here for fear of his reaction.

  “Juliette.” He said her voice with regret and a surge of shame. He’d just spoken about her to Douglas. He’d been admitting how he felt about her. If any of that were true, maybe it was time to take the next step.

  He held out his hand towards her. “Come in.”

  He could tell she was still wary. He could see her sucking in a deep breath. So he moved closer, taking his hand in hers and bringing her into the room.

  “I guess it’s time,” he said sadly.

  “Time for what?” Her eyes were wide. She had no idea where this was going.

  “Time to take the next step,” he said softly. He moved away, opened a cupboard and picked out some flat pack boxes. They’d always been there. Always been waiting.

  She was watching him with her deep brown eyes and he hated the fact she looked too worried to speak.

  He took a deep breath and lifted his hand. “This room is tired. It’s dated. It’s old. And it’s full of things that are now just relics of the past. I’ve spent the last twenty years avoiding coming in here.” He looked around, “An
d for what?” He shook his head. “My mum couldn’t move on. She lost a child. I lost a brother. But most of my memories of Douglas are good. Better than good.” He pressed his hand to his heart. “He still lives. He lives in here, in me. I just can’t let him go.” His voice cracked and Juliette moved, her arms around him in a few seconds.

  “Oh Andrew.” She lifted her hands and ran them through his hair. “You shared some years with a wonderful brother. You will always love him. You will always remember him. But you’ve got to move on. And keeping a bedroom as a relic isn’t letting you do that. It’s had you avoiding your family home for the last twenty years.” She stepped back and took his hand in hers. “But you know that now, and it’s time for that to stop.” Their gazes collided again. He could see her empathy, her understanding. “However you want to do this, I’m here for you, Andrew.”

  Acceptance. Understanding. And maybe love. Those were the things that were circulating through the cold air in this room.

  One thing was crystal clear. He couldn’t have reached this point without Juliette. The strength of her emotions was overwhelming. Matching every one of his. He’d never felt like this about anyone before.

  Love. This was what it felt like. This was how it was meant to be.

  The next hour would be the hardest in his life. But he’d found the person to stand by his side.

  He picked up the photo of him and Douglas together and turned it around to face her. He couldn’t help but smile. Douglas had always had that effect on him. “I still miss you, little guy, but it’s time for some changes around here.” He ran his hand over the wallpaper. “I’m hoping you won’t mind. I guess you outgrew this a few years ago.”