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‘Who’s got a big head?’ asked Corey, coming into the kitchen. He was dressed for the day in jeans and a tight navy T-shirt. He nodded at Lettie.
‘You’ll have a big head if you get too many compliments.’
‘No chance of that with you about, Gran.’ Corey grinned, before taking a jar of marmalade from the carrier bag he was carrying, twisting off the lid and placing it on the table. ‘That’s the only type they had left in the shop.’
‘It’s got bits in,’ said Florence sniffily.
‘I’ll put it in the cupboard, then.’
‘No, no. You might as well leave it.’ Florence sighed before dipping her knife into the jar. ‘It’ll do, I suppose.’
Corey and Lettie shared a smile over the elderly lady’s head. There was so much about her that reminded Lettie of Iris. Ironically, the two of them would probably have got on like a house on fire if they’d stayed in touch.
‘Did you manage to go back to sleep when the storm eased off?’ asked Corey, putting two more slices of bread into the toaster on the worktop.
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Lettie, feeling her face flush when she remembered Corey’s kiss goodnight. She glanced at him but he was busy making breakfast and didn’t catch her eye. ‘Thank you for letting me stay. I really appreciate it and Cornelius’s old room is fascinating, a little like a time capsule.’
‘Hmm. Time marches on but I don’t want Cornelius to be forgotten,’ said Florence, slathering her toast in bitty marmalade.
‘Of course you don’t. He sounds like a lovely man.’
‘He was.’ Florence looked up from her slathering. ‘What is it? You look peaky. Are you feeling ill after yesterday’s drama?’
‘No, I’m fine.’
‘What is it, then?’ asked Florence. ‘Tell me, child.’
Lettie swallowed. It would be so easy to just walk away. Iris was dead and gone and Florence would follow before too long. Did it matter what she thought of her great-aunt? But Lettie knew the answer before the thought was finished. It did matter and there had been too many secrets, for too long.
‘I found something in Cornelius’s room last night,’ she blurted out, before she could change her mind.
‘What do you mean you found something?’ asked Florence sharply. She paused from buttering a second piece of toast, her knife in the air.
‘I was looking at his desk and I found this.’
Corey glanced up as she took his great-uncle’s letter from her jeans pocket.
Florence slowly put down her knife. ‘What is that?’
‘I don’t want to upset you and I wasn’t sure what to do with it,’ babbled Lettie, nervously, ‘but I thought you’d like to see it.’
She passed the letter to Florence, who glanced at it before handing it straight to Corey. ‘This wasn’t in the desk. My parents would have found it. They went through the drawers after he died.’
‘It was hidden away. There was a drawer – a locked, secret box, really – that I came across by accident.’
‘That’s quite something to come across by accident.’ Corey switched off the toaster as smoke started to curl towards the ceiling. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘It’s probably best if I show you?’
Florence rose from the table without a word, holding on to her chair for stability, and she and Corey went upstairs, with Lettie leading the way. They clustered around the old desk.
‘Show us, then,’ demanded Florence, leaning on her grandson for support.
Lettie pulled out the two shallow drawers at the front of the cubby holes. ‘These drawers are more shallow than the others and if you pull out this piece…’
She pulled the wooden partition and Florence gasped as the hidden box slid into view.
‘How the hell did you come across this?’ Corey picked up the box and studied the lock.
