Page 53 of Mirrors of the Past

Ryan was feeling similarly discombobulated at Wheal Mount. He needed to set some time aside to search for some things in his archives for the Snow Queen exhibit, but had made a point of reading the email Tegan had sent about the American Society magazine.

He ended up totally going down a rabbit hole with it, scrolling through the whole magazine, as well as the article he was supposed to read. He downloaded the pages and photos that Tegan had located. Of course, they weren’t fantastic quality, being over a century old, but there was enough information to show what Elsie’s dress would have looked like. As Tegan had said, there was a full-length picture of the bridal party, flanked by so many young men and women it made Ryan wonder at the cost of the ceremony and the clothes and everything that went with it. He was very much of the opinion that, if he ever got married, it would be a pretty quiet do. Nothing on this scale. In fact, did he even have that many brothers and/or good friends to have as ushers? He shook his head. No. The answer was no.

He closed the computer down for the evening, having decided to carry on after a good night’s sleep. And maybe he needed to have a word with Sybill as well.

He managed to catch her a few days later — she’d had a couple of days off — and he was quite relieved to see her.

‘Sybill, can I have a quick word?’ he asked, knocking on her office door.

‘Sure!’ She smiled at him. ‘Are you over the shock of Tegan at Pencradoc now?’

‘Not sure about that, to be honest.’ He half smiled. ‘But I think we’ll work around our differences — I don’t think we’re going to spoil the relationship between the two arts centres just yet. Actually, that was kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.’ It wasn’t — not at all. But he felt a bit stupid asking her what he really wanted to find out.

‘Oh? Come in, take a seat.’ She gestured to a chair. Ryan sat down almost reluctantly. It did feel as if he had gone to see the headteacher at school.

‘I was just wondering,’ he said, ‘if you were happy for me to dig around for Halloween things in the archive, as well as the Christmas thing? It wouldn’t be much, you know? Just displaying the letter from Pearl and other bits and bobs in the ballroom at Pencradoc.’

‘That sounds great. But,’ she looked at him and smiled, ‘you don’t need to run that by me — we’d agreed you could do it. Just remember the focus is on the Christmas wedding — so something that can be easily dismantled is ideal.’

‘It would definitely be temporary,’ Ryan added hurriedly. He felt his cheeks flush.

‘I’m sure. Now. What did you really want to ask me?’ She leaned on her elbows and put her chin in her hands. ‘No references required for jobs elsewhere? No “actually, if I’m honest, Sybill, I can’t work with Tegan, so I have to leave Wheal Mount” conversations.’

‘Ah.’ He looked down at his own hands. The woman was definitely a witch, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing about that application — not at all . . .

He pushed the thought out of his head. Perhaps he should just come semi-clean about the stories he’d found. ‘I wouldn’t mind knowing, actually, if any of the family were writers?’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. For — for — World Book Day. In March.’

‘Hmm. Really, Ryan?’

‘No. Not really.’ He sighed. ‘Okay. I found some papers that looked as if someone had been writing a story about Viola. Elsie’s bridesmaid, you remember?’ He hoped she wouldn’t ask him where he’d found it and luckily the gods were with him as she didn’t query that at all.

‘Interesting. Well, we know a family friend, Noel — Holly’s husband — was an author, but he was successful for his children’s books. I doubt he would have written anything about Viola, unless it was a skit or something they were having fun over.’

‘It doesn’t seem as if it was a skit. From what I understand, the papers were originally well hidden. So unless he fancied Viola and was creating some sort of fantasy world . . .’

‘Absolutely not.’ Sybill was vehement. ‘That wouldn’t have happened. I think I can probably shed some light on it for you. Were the papers found at Pencradoc by any chance?’

‘Yes.’ He didn’t volunteer any further information and she didn’t ask for it.

‘So, we know Viola actually married into the Teague family just before World War One. Can you guess the link? Who she might have married?’ Sybill was smiling now.

Ryan thought for a moment. ‘Before the War. I suspect, possibly, Elsie’s brother — the one that went off to fight?’

‘Exactly right. Laurie Teague. He was the only one of the children who didn’t paint, he apparently preferred to write. When he was invalided out of the frontline, so the family stories go, he worked for the War Office and put all those skills to use with his reports and things. Does that help?’

‘It does. Thanks. I knew he’d gone to work for the War Office, so that makes sense.’ Ryan was thoughtful. He probably needed to pass that extra information on to Tegan. But perhaps she knew about the story anyway. Which reminded him. ‘Tegan found a magazine online with some American social stuff in it. We think we’ve got the style of Elsie’s wedding dress now.’

‘That’s fantastic! Well done. See, we knew you two could do it.’

‘I don’t suppose you know anyone who can make the dress up for us, do you? I’m happy looking for things upstairs — mirrors, lamps, lanterns — that kind of thing to reflect the dress, but we need a dress to reflect, I guess.’

‘You guess correctly. Yes. Here you go — try Ianthe Shelley.’ Sybill rummaged in her desk and brought out a business card. ‘The girl is a marvel. Based in Covent Garden.’ She looked at Ryan impishly. ‘You and Tegan could take a business trip there.’

‘Or perhaps not,’ said Ryan firmly. Things were better with Tegan, he thought, but not business-trip good.

‘Or perhaps yes,’ said Sybill, quite smugly. ‘Anyway, I’ve got shedloads to do, so if you can send me that link and the photos, that would be amazing.’

‘Yes. No problem. I’ll get searching upstairs for stuff too.’

‘Excellent. Let me know how you get on.’

‘Will do.’

‘And if you need me to book tickets for London.’

‘Won’t do.’

‘Sure.’ Sybill grinned. ‘Sure, Ryan. Sure.’

Ryan thought it best at that point to exit stage left — so he did.