Chapter 3
Mia
A tiny beam of sunlight has slipped through the clouds, as well as the sheer curtains at the window.
The beam lands on Mia’s face, bathing her in light.
This isn’t the worst way to wake up. Her room smells faintly of the furniture polish Penny has preferred for the last twenty years, the duvet is warm and soft against her skin, and despite the harrowing events of the day before, Mia is grateful to finally feel rested and refreshed as she sits up.
Mia stretches, feeling the workout she gave her calves through all that snow yesterday along with the residual yoga after-effects.
They’re not too sore, though, just a little tight.
A hot shower should melt away those aches and pains.
A shower, some food, conversation with her family, and she’ll be set to rights.
She needs to find Aunt Gertie too – there were so many people last night that Mia never crossed paths with her.
She slides from the bed, curling her toes into the thick rose rug at her bedside and gathering her hair up into a messy topknot.
She was too tired to do anything with her hair last night, and now several long strands are plastered to the side of her cheek.
Was she drooling overnight? She shudders slightly.
Hopefully it’s just a bit damp upstairs.
Mia’s stomach lets out an impressive growl, and she amends her plan.
Food, then shower and a cute outfit, along with time with her family.
But food has become imperative. Shoving her feet into her favourite fuzzy slippers – the ones that look like oversized plushy feet stuffed into tiny flip-flops – she pads over to the dresser.
The wooden dresser, inherited from her grandmother, glows beautifully.
Mia has always loved the curved drawers, and the elegantly swooping arms on top that hold the mirror in place.
When she was gifted the piece as a child, she’d felt so grown-up.
She’d gently opened each and every drawer, and her delight had increased when she’d discovered the fabric-covered jewellery box in the top left drawer.
Grandma Joan had given her several beautiful pieces – all costume jewellery, of course, but Mia had loved the mixture of corals and daffodil yellow beads and heavy bangle bracelets.
Her absolute favourite were the earrings Gran had included.
Easing open the drawer, Mia lifts the padded case out on to the top surface of the dresser.
The brass clasp on the box has tarnished a little over the years, but it swings open smoothly.
Mia’s gaze falls to the lone earring nestled in the silk compartment.
The earrings had been a present from her Grandpa Morris to her grandmother on their honeymoon in Iceland.
Grandma Joan was a gifted storyteller and had told Mia about the trip countless times, painting pictures of reindeer, volcanic pools and the majesty of the aurora borealis with her words.
And every story had ended with Gran opening up the expansive jewellery box.
She’d gently lift out the gorgeous set of earrings, her wrinkled cheeks stretching into a smile as she showed Mia.
The gold screw back held a large amber stone that seemed to shine from within, set alongside beautifully cut emeralds and sapphires that evoked the northern lights.
The artisan had crafted delicate strands of twisted gold that fanned out from the expertly set gems, and Mia had always thought they were the most beautifully made pieces she’d ever seen.
Grandma Joan wore them for holidays and special days like her wedding anniversary, and after Grandpa Morris had passed away, she’d worn them even more often.
Mia had been incredibly touched when Grandma Joan had given the earrings to her on her sixteenth birthday.
They were so sentimental, and she’d always taken great care with them.
Tracing a finger over the lone earring, a twinge of sadness settled over her.
She’d been devastated when one of the earrings had gone missing almost ten years ago.
For days, she’d searched high and low, retracing her steps, wracking her brain trying to imagine where the piece might have disappeared to.
And in the years since, she’d spent an inordinate amount of time rifling through piles of antique jewellery at flea markets and antique shops, all in the hope of discovering a match for the lonely earring.
Closing the lid, Mia pushes away the sadness that comes from thinking about the lost earring.
She can always keep looking for a replacement.
Plus, she enjoys her typical Sunday morning routine of rooting through musty stalls, chatting with the vendors and searching for treasure.
In fact, her ridiculous slippers had been a flea market find.
Flipping open her toiletry case, Mia smooths on some face cream, pushing away the stiff hair that is still glued to her cheek.
Then she fishes out a pair of under-eye patches purported to be made with real gold, patting them gently in place.
Lucy proclaimed them to be a total scam, but Mia swears they are helping with her perpetual dark circles.
She gazes at herself in the mirror, amused at the picture she strikes.
Weird gold blobby half-moons stuck to the skin under her eyes.
Crusty hair sticking out to the side, fringe looking positively possessed.
Faded Christmas pyjamas and fluffy slippers.
Oh well. The only ones who will see her like this are her family.
It’s not like she is trying to impress anyone.
A silver lining, perhaps, to the dark fact that James isn’t going to be texting her any time soon.
Mia quietly lets herself out of her room and creeps down the stairs into the kitchen.
She is craving comfort food, so she rummages in the fridge for a bit of inspiration until she locates cheese, eggs and potatoes.
She rinses and chops the potatoes into cubes, then throws them on to an oiled tray.
She gives them a liberal coating of salt, pepper and the smoked paprika she finds in Penny’s spice cabinet, then pops the tray into the oven before setting a timer and whisking the eggs.
Her mouth is already watering, and she can feel her nerves settling down.
This trip may not have started out as satisfyingly as she’d hoped, but things are looking up.
Perhaps after this meal, and a nice long shower, Mia can finagle a ride into town.
She can buy a coffee and drown out her troubles with a little retail therapy.
‘Ah, there you are. Morning, dearie.’ Aunt Gertie’s quavering voice interrupts Mia’s daydream.
Mia pauses in her preparations to give her great-aunt a hug. ‘Good morning. I missed you last night!’
‘Ah.’ Aunt Gertie waves a gnarled hand decked out in several rings.
She’s wearing loads of jewellery like always, which makes a gentle tinkle as she totters along.
Aunt Gertie is nearly a hundred years old, and still has a style that Mia envies.
Today her bony frame is swathed in a brightly coloured silky kaftan.
‘I was tired, so I nicked a plate of food and went to my room right after dark. Your mother wore me out with all her stressing about the party preparations.’
‘Aww. You’re always the life of the party. We missed you.’
‘Pfft. No need to lie, darling. I’m sure no one else even noticed I was gone.’
Aunt Gertie lives in a small flat in town, though Mia has a feeling that she would prefer to still live out her days here at the manor. Her aunt had been convinced by Mia’s parents to move closer into town where friends could keep an eye on her.
‘You want some coffee?’ Mia hides her smile as she knows what her aunt’s response will be.
Aunt Gertie makes a disgusted sound. ‘Not even in the slightest. I don’t know how you tolerate that horribleness.
I’ll just make myself some tea to drink in the sunroom.
’ She fills the kettle and sets out her teacup and saucer – the same one she’s used for as long as Mia can remember. She pops a teabag into the cup.
Mia’s phone lights up with a message from Lucy, and Aunt Gertie grunts disapprovingly.
‘Wretched things, these mobile phones. Make you accessible to everyone, everywhere, all day long. A person can barely get any peace and quiet any more. You know, when I went on safari in Africa, I was gone for three months. Never made a single phone call, and didn’t even send a letter home.
Best three months of my life.’ She pours the hot water into her cup, her hands shaking slightly.
Mia sets aside her whisk and leans against the counter.
She loves Aunt Gertie’s stories. ‘I had a torrid affair with our guide while I was there. He was a beautiful man, taller than the doorways and thighs like tree trunks. The positions he could hold … Oh, he was gorgeous. I wish you could have seen him, dearie. I nearly stayed in Kenya for him.’ She stirs in a spoonful of sugar and takes a sip.
‘Mmm, perfect. But he still visits me in my dreams.’ She grins up at Mia.
‘Best part, he hasn’t aged a day!’ And with that, Aunt Gertie totters from the room, humming softly to herself.
Mia returns to her cooking, chuckling over yet another of Aunt Gertie’s outrageous stories. She’s bent over the counter, grating the cheese while humming a Christmas carol, when someone clears their throat behind her.
‘Coffee is made,’ she says without turning around. ‘Don’t mind me in the way.’ She could move, of course, but she wasn’t the one who chose to place the coffee maker directly by the hob.