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“A real Christmas tree? I’ve never had one of them before. They’re supposed to smell great.”
“They do.” There was a touch of sadness in his voice.
It suddenly struck her that this would probably be his first Christmas in this house without his mother. He had a whole host of past Christmas memories in this house. Maybe she was expecting too much?
“That sounds good,” she said simply. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to write up some notes for tomorrow on the history of the house. You can correct me if I get anything wrong while we’re filming. I might have a few questions before we start in the morning.”
He dried his hands and walked over to the kitchen door. “Come on. There’s one more room I haven’t shown you yet.”
She followed him down the corridor to a set of dark heavy doors. He pushed them both open and switched on the light which flickered for a few seconds in the corner. It was the smell that hit her first. That delicious smell of old tomes, with a mixture of grass and vanilla. She remembered years ago reading about the chemistry of the smell of old books – something she absolutely loved. Apparently it was all chemical reactions as the glue, paper and ink all began to break down. There was a hint of leather in the air as well, all smells that seemed to pull her into the room despite the chill.
“You have your own library? Wow.” She stepped inside and breathed deeply. “I would love this.”
“You would?” He seemed surprised. “To be honest, I didn’t really appreciate this until a few years ago.” He reached over to the one of the shelves and pulled out a musty brown, large leather book. “Some of the history of Garnock Hall is in here, along with some old pictures.” He paused for a second. “The reporting is your job. You decide what you want to use. I’ve got a personal bias that might make things tricky.” He moved towards the door as she pulled out a chair at one of the tables to sit down.
“Aren’t you going to stay?”
He shook his head and pointed to the ceiling. “I’m off to search for some buckets. I need to go and check out the top floor. I’m sure that there must be rain water getting in through some of the missing slates.” He gave her a little smile. “I know this is all a bit of a disaster. But I promise, tomorrow will be better.”
His footsteps echoed down the hall. Juliette looked down at her hand – the one he’d held for so long in the kitchen. Concentrating on it did funny things to her senses. Whilst it was still cold in here, the little prickles running up and down her arm were nothing to do with the temperature.
There was so much more to Andrew Campbell than she’d known. Maybe this Christmas wouldn’t be quite as lonely as she thought?
Chapter Four
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“We’re here outside Garnock Hall on the West Coast of Scotland. Garnock Hall was built in the late 1700s by the then Earl of Garnock who died as it neared completion. The Battle of Bannockburn, Robert the Bruce and King James I of Scotland all have connections with Garnock Hall and its residents. For the last two hundred years the Campbells – one of the original Clans of Scotland have resided here.”
Juliette was in full professional mode, standing outside the house in the freezing snow, wearing her red parka. Usually she was dressed in a suit and heels, but the thick snow and freezing temperatures weren’t paying heed to her wardrobe. She’d lasted around two minutes when they’d initially come outside.
Last night had been bitterly cold in the house. The temperature had eventually risen to somewhere just above freezing. Getting someone to look at the three boilers was another thing to add to the never-ending list. At least the roofer had shown. He’d clambered out onto the roof, adjusted a few of the slates and said he’d be back on Boxing Day to fix them down properly. He’d also mumbled under his breath about the whole thing needing replaced.
But Juliette didn’t seem to see a house that was crumbling around them. She was talking about Garnock Hall as if it were the best stately home ever built.
“There are so many legends tied up with Garnock Hall. The whole house is full of ancient portraits and artefacts. What’s even more amazing is that most of the history of the house is captured in this, a book that shows Garnock Hall through the ages.” She held up the ancient bound leather album with some of the earliest drawings and photographs from the 1800s. She shot her trademark smile at the camera. “It also gives us a good idea of who might be haunting this history-filled building.”
“Cut. Perfect.” He unloaded the camera from one shoulder and the boom from under his other arm. Trying to capture the film and the sound really required an extra set of hands.
She walked towards him, her cheeks pink from the fresh air around them. “Do you think?”
He nodded. “I’ve already got some shots outside. We can piece it together later. Are you ready to film the inside shots?” He glanced at his watch. “At this rate we’ll be done by lunch time and be able to go and track down some Christmas food.”
Juliette glanced over towards the snow-covered hills in the distance. “That’s really the only place you can get a 3G signal? There’s no place in the village that does dial up?”
“Sorry. Apparently we’re in a bit of dip between the hills. The whole village has really poor coverage.”
“How about we take the walk now?” She pulled a small tablet from her pocket. “We can check out the website and take a note of some of the ingredients for the shopping in the village.”
He glanced down at her shoes. She’d changed into black flat boots. Nice, stylish, but probably not designed to walk in the snow-covered hills. “Do you want to get changed again?”
She shook her head and looked down. “No, I’m fine like this. I’ll just slip my boots off when we get back, put on my heels and my jacket and I’ll be ready to film the inside shots.”
There was something about her. An air of innocence, along with a self-confidence. She had no idea what she was about to get into. Her tight-fitting red suit hidden under that parka was the last thing to go climbing Scottish hills in, and her feet would be sodden in minutes. But hey? Who was he?
He opened the front door and left the sound equipment and the camera inside. “Let’s go then.”
They started to walk around the house. Juliette admiring some of the more gothic architecture and gargoyles around the windows.
“Wow. Some of these are quite ugly. And terrifying. It makes you wonder who designed them. Why on earth would someone want these on their house?”
“I expect it was to keep others away. Scotland could be a scary place a few hundred years ago.”
“What about you – when you were a kid? What did you think of them?”
“I had nicknames for them. Partly, to stop them being quite so scary.”
She smiled. That genuine smile she had when she was interested in something. He’d often seen it on her face when she was talking with families and guests away from the camera. It was nice. It wa
s endearing. Juliette didn’t just care about how she looked on film, she was genuinely interested in the reasons they were there. “Spill. What did you call them?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Fair warning – you’ll need a dictionary.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Well then, let’s see if you can interpret.” He pointed at four of the gargoyles above the windows. “Meet mauchit, drookit, sleekit and glaikit.”
Her face was a picture, her mouth fell open, then closed again quickly. Frown lines appeared across her brow. “Say them again?”
He repeated as he pointed at the distorted faces. She shook her head in defeat. “Honestly? I just don’t have a clue.” She planted her hands on her hips and looked at him suspiciously. “You made those up, didn’t you?”
“Absolutely not. They’re good Scottish words. If we go into the village and you try them everyone will know what you mean. In simple terms it’s dirty, wet, sly and stupid.”
“Mauchit, drookit, sleekit and glaikit.” She recited it back like a child learning a foreign language. “Well, no wonder they look so cross.” She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the gnarled faces then gave a shudder. “Nope. Even with names they’re still hideous. I would have been terrified as a child. Weren’t you?”
Andrew started walking away towards the fields. “I didn’t spend a lot of time in the house. I’m a boy.” He opened his arms and turned around. “I was permanently in muddy fields or climbing trees.” His foot gave a satisfying squelch underneath the snow.
Juliette stepped towards him, frowning at the noise under her feet. But she didn’t stop, just dug her hands into her pockets and took long strides. He smiled as she passed him. He could easily lay a bet on what would happen next.
It only took a few seconds. Her foot continued to lift as the boot was stuck fast in the mud hidden underneath the snow. She gave a squeal as her body continued forward, throwing out her arms as she face planted in the snow.
