Mia sat back and looked at each of the boxes, not quite sure what to do with her discovery. But as much as she wanted to open one of them to see what was inside, she couldn’t—it would have felt like opening another person’s diary.They’re not mine to open. They’ve been hidden here for a reason.
She would have to call the lawyer who’d handled Hope’s estate. There was every chance he’d know what to do, and Mia had the strongest feeling that the boxes needed to be reunited with whomever they’d been left for. Surely Hope wouldn’t have hidden them if they weren’t important? But then again, she wondered if they were supposed to remain hidden if she’d gone to such lengths to ensure they could never be found.
Mia stood, looking around for a bag or something to put the boxes in, and deciding that she’d keep looking through the office in case there were more treasures hidden. But after looking everywhere, she couldn’t find anything more than papers and a worn, black leather diary.
Just look under the floorboards once more. Something kept directing her back towards the gap in the floor, and so Mia lowered herself to her knees again and reached around, using the torch app on her phone to see if there was anything else.
And then her fingers connected with another box, and a bottle.
She pulled them both out and sat back to look at them. The smallish bottle had a green tinge to it, and there was a pretty, albeit old-fashioned, image of a fairy on the front. She set itaside, deciding to take it with her since it had obviously held some importance for Hope to hide it, and then looked at the box. It was different to all the others—it didn’t quite match in size and was made from a different, more greyish colour of wood, as if it might have been older—and this one bore no name. Until she gently opened it and found a little card name tag inside, stating the nameHope. The writing was different to that on the other boxes, too, and much to Mia’s disappointment, the box was otherwise empty.
Mia had no idea what any of it meant, but it had certainly piqued her curiosity, and she knew then and there that she was going to find a way to reunite those little boxes with their intended recipients, if she could. They might have been long-buried, but if they’d been precious enough for Hope to hide away for safekeeping, then she knew only too well that they might contain an important link to the past. Perhaps even a memory that someone might not even know they were waiting for.
Besides, she was certain the lawyer had said that Hope kept meticulous records, which meant that there was every chance there would be a connection between the name on each box and someone on file.
Or at least, she hoped so.
2
LONDON, PRESENT DAY
Mia sat at the bar and opened the worn, black leather notebook that she’d found in Hope’s office, just as she had so many times before. She opened it to the middle, a blue ribbon marking the page, and stared at the drawings.It doesn’t matter how many times I stare at them, I still can’t look away.
The trouble was, no matter how many times she ran her eyes over the sketches, she still couldn’t figure out the significance of them, either.If only you’d told someone before you passed away, Hope, instead of keeping everything a secret.
She reached into her bag and took out the small green bottle she’d found four years earlier, as well as the little wooden box, placing them in front of her. It was all such a mystery, and one that she’d become obsessed with solving, even if she did feel as if she was simply going round and round in circles most days. Everything about Hope and what she’d left behind continued to baffle her as much today as it had when she’d discovered the clues, but she hadn’t given up—yet. If anything, she’d felt a renewed interest in finding out more about her elusive great-aunt.
But as confusing as everything was, it was Hope’s connection to the little green bottle that continued to fascinate Mia themost; and why her aunt had so many variations of sketches that all loosely resembled the fairy on the label, too. She’d never once seen Hope draw when they’d visited her, but if this was indeed her diary, which Mia had every reason to believe it was, then they must have been sketched by her aunt. She couldn’t think of any other explanation.
‘May I offer you one of our famous cocktails?’
Mia looked up, and into the eyes of a smiling bartender. ‘I haven’t looked at the menu yet, but…’
‘Do you trust me to make you something?’ he asked, flashing her another smile. ‘If you don’t like it, it’s on the house. I promise.’
She laughed, finding it impossible not to smile back at him. It had been a while since anyone had flirted with her, if that’s even what he was doing. He was probably just very good at his job.
‘Sure. Why not.’ She’d arrived half an hour early to meet the girls, so she had plenty of time to sip a cocktail.
Mia watched him as he turned and picked up a cocktail glass, pouring something inside that he swirled around then tipped out. Once he’d finished, the glass was coated in the most fascinating vivid green, almost as if someone had added food colouring to it, and she stared in wonder as he finished mixing her drink, before nudging it towards her.
‘The magic of absinthe,’ he said with a grin. ‘I’m trying to change people’s perception of it.’
‘Absinthe?’ she repeated. ‘I know I said I’d trust you, but?—’
He looked confused. ‘Sorry, when I saw the bottle you were studying, I thought it would be a welcome surprise.’
Mia’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Thisbottle?’ she asked. ‘You recognise it?’
He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned towards her, hand hovering over the little bottle she’d set in front of her.
‘May I?’
She nodded, even though her instincts were screaming at her not to let anyone touch the precious little keepsake that had once belonged to her great-aunt. But she was curious enough to let him.
‘This,’ he said, carefully turning it over in his hand and looking at it, ‘is most definitely a very old absinthe bottle. It would have been a forbidden substance when it was made, if I’m guessing the era correctly. You have your hands on quite the vintage.’
‘You can tell all this just from looking at a bottle?’ she asked.
