‘Well,’ she said, reaching for the tea caddy, ‘if ever there was a time for a cuppa, it’s now.’
‘Do you want us to leave you to have a look through it all?’ asked Clemmie.
‘I can leave,’ suggested Oliver.
Betty looked at them. ‘I think we’re all in this together.’ She set out three mugs and reached for her glasses. ‘Go on, take a look.’
Clemmie took the top document. ‘These,’ she said, ‘are handwritten notes. They look old. Really old. Recipes, mostly.’
‘You mean to tell me you’ve got classified royal recipes?’ asked Betty.
Clemmie exhaled a shaky breath. ‘Not just recipes. Look at this.’ She pointed to a page filled with flowing script. ‘It’s not just about food, it’s aboutwhowas served andwhen. It’sa log. A detailed history of who dined where, what was prepared.’ As Clemmie flipped through the bundle, a small note fell from between the letters. She carefully unfolded it, her eyes scanning the faded ink.
To find what’s hidden, listen to the tick of time. Where the past has stood still, beneath the weight of old wood and memories, it rests. The clock keeps it safe.
Betty raised an eyebrow. ‘What is this about? It sounds very cryptic, like a riddle. The clock?’
Clemmie’s heart skipped a beat. ‘The clock… Do you think it has something to do with the old grandfather clock in the hallway?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Betty, glancing at the door to the hall.
Clemmie’s eyes widened as a memory clicked into place. ‘Lady Rosalind told us about a grandfather clock. She mentioned how the chef would hide cakes in the clock for her, in a secret compartment no one would suspect. What if that’s the same thing here? What if Rosalind and the chef weren’t the first people to use the clock as a hiding place?’ Her voice lowered with excitement. ‘Granny, we need to check it.’
The two women exchanged a look before turning to Oliver. ‘What do you think?’ asked Clemmie.
‘I think you’d best check it.’
Clemmie, Betty and Oliver stood in the hallway, staring at the ancient clock that hadn’t ticked or tocked for as long as either woman could remember. It stood there, as solid as the house itself, its brass pendulum no longer swaying, its face worn with age, the hands forever frozen in time. A family heirloom, passed down through generations and never once altered or repaired. Just like the recipes Betty had inherited, the clock had remained in the family, enduring the years without a second thought.
Clemmie stepped closer to the clock. ‘Well, there’s only one way to find out,’ she said. With a gentle twist, she turned the brass knob hidden just below the clock face.
To their surprise, it gave way easily, revealing a small, concealed door. Betty gasped, her hand flying to her chest. ‘I can’t believe it!’
The door opened. Nestled in the dusty compartment was an old, yellowed document. Her heart skipped a beat. She reached inside and carefully pulled it out, revealing the delicate paper.
‘It’s a marriage certificate,’ she murmured. ‘For Beatrice and Arthur! They were married here at the church on Puffin Island!’
Betty blinked back a tear. ‘A lovely piece of family history.’
‘There’s more,’ said Clemmie. Right at the back was an old, worn diary.
Back in the living room, Clemmie opened the diary at the first page. ‘It’sBeatrice’sdiary,’ she said reverently.
They all stared at it.
‘Do you want to read it?’ asked Clemmie, knowing that they were about to embark on a journey that could potentially uncover a whole lot more secrets, if the letters they’d discovered in the attic were anything to go by.
‘My heart is beating that fast,’ admitted Betty. ‘You flick through and see if there’s anything obvious that stands out.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Clemmie.
Betty nodded.
Clemmie took a deep breath and began to read some of the entries out loud.
March 5, 1918
The tea dance was like any other. The music, the laughter, the hum of conversation, all familiar. But then, there was him. Arthur Rose. A soldier from Scotland, with eyes like the stormy sea and a smile that disarmed me entirely. He asked me to dance, and my world shifted. I had never believed in love at first sight, but tonight, I know it exists.
