Page 82 of Mirrors of the Past

Chapter Thirty-One

Present

Unsurprisingly, after the experience in Russell Square, they hadn’t felt much like continuing to Brunswick Square, or even turning around and heading to Hyde Park to enjoy the Winter Wonderland.

‘There’s a haunted mansion attraction,’ Ryan had said.

They looked at one another for a moment.

‘No way.’

‘Nope. Absolutely not.’

They spoke together. Tegan was pleased they were in agreement, even if Ryan had thrown her a little with his Glasgow news and Angelo had upset her a little with his flowery, apologetic message. So they decided, instead, to head back to Cornwall on an earlier train, had a couple of hours in the pub, and again Ryan spent the evening in his van before going back down to Wheal Mount the day after.

Neither one of them mentioned Glasgow or Angelo.

Ryan hadn’t parked up in the pub car park this time. He had made it as far as the grounds of Pencradoc, and, as Tegan closed her curtains that evening, she could see his shadow moving around inside the vehicle. She had leaned on the windowsill for a little while, peering down at him, before she decided that she felt a bit like a Peeping Tom and how would she like it if he, Ryan, spent some time staring up into her window? She wouldn’t like it at all.

But the idea that he was so close, yet technically so far away, kept her awake and tossing and turning most of the night. Coren had again offered Ryan a room in the house itself, but he had politely refused. Tegan sort of understood that as well. After the odd things that had happened in London, it was somehow as if the air might be charged and Laurie and Viola would spring out on them again, if they were in the same place, just yards apart.

He’d gone by the time she got up and it was business as usual at Pencradoc. The only good thing was that Laurie and Viola had, it seemed, decided to stay in London for a bit. The atmosphere just felt different and a bit empty; Tegan could only hope they stayed away for a little while longer. At least until she got the exhibition up and running.

And that, indeed, was what occupied her mind and took up the bulk of her time over the next couple of weeks.

Elsie’s dress arrived the next day, as promised, and one of the Christmas staff, Katy, gave her a hand setting it all up in the ballroom. Katy was lovely, just in her mid-to-late-twenties like Tegan, and part of her remit was to help out where she was needed, be it in the tearoom, the studios, the exhibition rooms or wherever Coren deemed it necessary. She was a dab hand at creative things, and, between them, she and Tegan had created a perfect Snow Queen room.

They’d used the ideas Tegan and Ryan had come up with so many weeks ago to base the exhibition on, and the morning room, which led onto the ballroom, had been filled with a tasteful blue, silver and white forest. From there you walked into the realm of the Snow Queen. Elsie’s dress was displayed beautifully on the mirrored tiles and Katy had piled up holly and evergreens around it to disguise the hard edges. “Tilly”, the tailor’s dummy that had been in the Pencradoc family for generations, had been brought out of Coren’s private quarters and the wedding dress was arranged on that. Mirrors and lanterns flickered around her and fairy lights were strung across the ceiling to make a crazy, sparkling crystal realm.

To make it even more special, the evergreen crown and bouquet perfectly matched Elsie’s, as far as Tegan could tell from the wedding photograph. The final touch was the bright-red sash. Tegan felt a weird little tingle when she carefully tied it, again making sure it matched the style of the sash in the photographs. She could almost imagine herself there, at the wedding, adjusting the sash, then following Elsie down the aisle, next to Laurie . . . For some reason, just after she thought that, she untied the bright-red sash and slackened it a little, and then it was perfect.

However, Tegan was sad she hadn’t managed to get a sleigh. She had, on the off chance, run that by Coren again, though, and he had just looked at her silently.

‘All right,’ she’d said, almost backing out of the room. ‘I’ll adapt.’

“Adapting” had been speaking to Cordelia and Matt, good friends of Kit and Merryn, and, as they both worked in a school — Cordelia teaching drama and Matt teaching art — they had managed to rustle up a cardboard cut-out, covered in glitter and tinsel and icicle lights. It was, sadly, just one side of a sleigh, but Matt had set his class to work on a background and behind the sleigh was a painted winter forest, with winding paths leading off between the snow-covered fir trees.

As Tegan admired it, she was reminded of the painted background in the old Halloween photographs. She wondered if the family had painted it, and was fairly certain they had done.

The wedding photographs had been put up on display in the morning room, along with anything else she and Ryan had come up with — from invitations, to letters, to a copy of Elsie’s sketch of the dress. Ryan had found a couple of invoices in the archives. One of them was from Lucile Ltd, a high-end designer of the time, for an eye-watering price covering Elsie’s dress and all the bridesmaids’ dresses. The yardage of fabric quoted was enough to thoroughly shock Tegan. The most she’d ever sewn was a handkerchief at school and a felt roll to keep her make-up brushes in. It was supposed to hold pens and pencils, but teenage Tegan preferred lipstick and mascara to essay writing. The other invoice was from Claridge’s where it seemed the wedding reception had been held.

The invoices had gone in the display too.

So, all in all, the place was looking incredible. As Tegan stood there in the early morning before it opened, though, she had the feeling that she needed to add something else to it — just something to sit among the shards of crystal that spelled out “eternity” and the twinkling lights that set off the wedding dress.

Flowers, she thought. That’s what she needed.

She headed out into the gardens, not sure exactly what she would find, or what would be available at that time of year. Grubbing around, sending silent prayers up to avoid any lurking gardeners who might get cross with her, she collected a large bagful of different items, some of which she even recognised: cyclamens, Christmas roses and a green shrubby thing with little white trumpet flowers on it. She scattered them on the mirrored tiles and stood back, folding her arms.

There, she thought. Just perfect.

Proud of her handiwork, she whipped out her phone to take a photograph. It was, to be honest, massively Instagrammable anyway, and she fully intended to share it on her personal page and also the Pencradoc arts centre page.

While she was on her phone, she sent it to Angelo. He always appreciated beautiful things and she really wanted to show him what she’d been busy with as well.

Look! Isn’t this fabulous?she typed. It’s been such fun. She thought for a moment, then continued. It’s a shame you’ll miss it, but I’ll send some more photos soon.

It was a few moments before the message came back.