Page 5 of Mirrors of the Past

Chapter Three

Present

Tegan found the door she assumed — no, she knew — was to Coren’s office. She allowed herself a small smile. There was no ethereal, otherworldly feeling about that; none of this walking straight towards a doorway one had never encountered before and knowing what lay behind it. This door had a modern sign on it which said: Estate Office, Coren Penhaligon, Manager.

She rapped on the door and looked around curiously. This place was well hidden away, though. Right at the back of the hallway as per Merryn’s instructions. It was quiet at this end of the building, Merryn had said. The visitors tended to use the front half of the building and flow into the rooms there. This part was for staff only, and Merryn had told her there was a main office just along the corridor from Coren’s domain, which Tegan would work in. There was a photograph on the wall just opposite Coren’s office. It seemed to be a wedding photograph. The man had fair hair and the woman was dark, a froth of veil and bouquet surrounding her. Tegan peered at the label: Louis and Elsie, apparently. Ahh — Little Elsie all grown up, perhaps? She looked more closely and she could definitely detect the look of mischief in the woman’s eyes, mirrored in Little Elsie’s marble bust. Tegan smiled to think of that little girl growing up into such a beautiful, happy-looking bride.

‘Come in!’ called a voice from within the office, and Tegan moved away from the photograph and pushed open the door. A man was sitting at a desk staring at her very intently and for a split second, her stomach turned over. He was the image of the man in the picture.

‘Um . . .’ she said, quite unusually thrown off track.

‘Tegan?’ The man’s face changed and softened as he stood up and smiled at her. Holding his hand out, he continued. ‘I’m right, aren’t I? You look a lot like Merryn.’

Tegan wanted to disagree. Yes, they both had similar hair, but hers was strawberry-blonde, bleached a pale rose-gold by the Sicilian summer, whereas Merryn’s was, in her opinion, dirty blonde. Well, it had been when she’d been in London. Now, Tegan conceded, Merryn’s hair might be lighter because she lived in Cornwall. She hadn’t seen her sister since last Christmas, although they’d been in touch via email and text message, the way busy people like Tegan managed their lives and commitments.

The Burton eyes, though, were definitely the same in the sisters; that dark, mermaid-green that ran in the family. But where Merryn had curves, Tegan had nothing. She was, to be perfectly honest, quite flat-chested and narrow-hipped. It was a figure many women envied and Tegan did appreciate it, but, sometimes, especially when she’d been younger, she’d bought push-up bras and stuffed tissue down them to give her that little extra shape. She would, a well-meaning friend had told her, look good in a flapper dress or a 1960s minidress. As flapper dresses and original 1960s minidresses cost more than Tegan could afford in the vintage clothing stores, Tegan hadn’t rated that advice as very helpful really.

Tegan shifted her attention back to the moment in hand and the man standing in front of her. ‘Yes. I’m Tegan. You’re Coren, I guess? You look like the chap in the photo outside the room.’ She nodded back towards the door and held her hand out to shake Coren’s. ‘But it can’t be you, because you’re obviously not called Louis.’

Coren smiled. ‘Yes. That’s Louis and Elsie’s wedding photograph. They’re relatives of mine. We thought it would be nice to take a copy of it and put it up there. This used to be Louis’ study and, well . . .’ He shrugged, seemingly reluctant to continue.

‘And if he comes to visit his study, he can see the photo outside, without coming in and bothering you,’ said Tegan smartly.

Coren looked a little taken aback and she reminded herself this was her new boss and that had probably been completely the wrong thing to say to him. Strike One.

‘Oh. Sorry. Merryn mentioned Pencradoc might be haunted . . .’

Ugh. She really needed a filter . . .

But then he surprised her by laughing. ‘Yes. That’s one way of looking at it. Please. Sit down.’ He indicated the chair at the desk and Tegan obediently sat. She’d got away with that one, but she really needed to be more careful. ‘I have to say,’ continued Coren as he sat down too, ‘that I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.’

Crap.

Strike Two.

‘Ah. Yes. I got an earlier flight,’ replied Tegan. ‘I kind of thought I’d come and show willing. You know.’ She smiled brightly. ‘I’m keen to get started.’

She didn’t think it was worth letting him know she had thought it so much easier to just head here, than head down to Marazion to spend the night with Merryn. It just seemed a long way to Marazion and she was very tired, and she’d been promised accommodation at Pencradoc for the term of her contract.

‘Well, I’m not going to start you in a new job at three in the afternoon,’ said Coren. ‘But your suite’s all ready. Merryn did have an inkling you’d rock up early.’

‘Did she?’ Tegan was surprised.

‘Yes. She said you’d seemed anxious to leave Sicily and all her recent messages to you were undelivered, so she assumed you’d hopped on a plane.’

‘I must be more predictable than I thought,’ Tegan said wryly.

‘Maybe your sister just knows you well. Anyway. I’ll show you up to your rooms and tell you where you can go for food and drink in the village — there’s a really nice pizza place, we like to go there — or you can try the Tower Tearoom if you don’t want to go too far. And we’ll start properly tomorrow. Do you need some help with your bags?’

‘The village is fine. I like pizza. And I don’t have much luggage, so I’ll be totally fine. This is it.’ She indicated the case she had with her. ‘I’m used to travelling light. I’ll go home at the weekend, see Mum and Dad and grab anything else I need.’ It was the back-end of September after all and this was England, so she didn’t think she’d need much in the way of summer clothes. Cornwall, however, still seemed to think it was the height of summer. Tegan had noticed the gardens were looking green and lush, the flowers still blooming, a profusion of roses and summer flowers had greeted her on the way in, and there was that unmistakeable scent of moss and earth and distant moorland on the soft breeze.

Maybe she should retrieve some of her summer clothes this weekend — just in case.

‘Anyway. I’ve just got the essentials here today. And thank you. I do mean it. For the job here and for letting me stay, and for not getting cross because I’m a day early.’

‘Our pleasure. It makes things a bit easier to cover Merryn’s leave if she’s happy with the person in the job.’

‘And can tell them what to do!’ She said it with a smile, though.