Page 91 of Mirrors of the Past

Tegan led him outside and along the pathway to Rose’s garden. It was actually more eerie out here than it had been in the house and Ryan followed, the lanterns that lit the pathways flickering in the late afternoon twilight.

‘Here we are,’ said Tegan, almost in a whisper. She hesitated. ‘Can you feel it here too? Or is it just me?’

‘No, there’s definitely something here,’ said Ryan, equally quietly. He looked around him and the rose garden had, as well as the house, been treated to some Christmas cheer. There were fairy lights winking out from the plants and strings of them were wrapped around the tree trunks. Sparkling silver baubles hung from the highest tree branches and there was a sort of net above the hollow the garden was situated in, covered in lights and crystals.

He wondered what it had been like all those years ago, when Laurie had . . .

But no.

Before that, he needed to show Tegan the first thing he’d brought with him.

‘Do you want to sit down?’ he asked, indicating the bench they had shared three months or so ago.

Tegan shook her head slowly. ‘No. I think I want to stand, actually.’

Ryan grinned. ‘In case we need to make a hasty exit?’

‘Something like that.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll be quick then. Here. I asked Sybill for some advice on photo restoration.’ He rummaged in the document bag and brought out an envelope. ‘Specifically, colour restoration. Have you ever seen it?’

‘Oh! Yes!’ Tegan nodded. ‘It’s where people bring the colour back to black-and-white photos, isn’t it? Makes the people really come alive . . .’

She stopped herself from continuing and Ryan laughed. ‘Yes. I get it. But this is different. Look.’ He opened the envelope and took something out of it.

He handed it to Tegan and she gasped. ‘It’s the wedding photo! The group shot. Oh, this is fantastic! What a brilliant piece of work.’

‘Isn’t it?’ He was impressed with the thing himself. ‘All I had to do was tell the specialist some of the colours I knew were in there. Like red, for Elsie’s sash, and the colours of their hair and the headdress and all that. He did the rest.’

‘Well, even if it’s just clever guesswork,’ Tegan said in delight, ‘look how real they all look!’

Ryan nodded. He’d studied the photo so many times since he’d received it back from the restorer that he knew it off by heart. The girls’ dresses were red, green and gold, their faces peaches and cream. The men were all smartly dressed in black, and, to Ryan’s surprise, three of the attendants had sported rich, red hair. Sybill had told him their mother Lily Valentine had been famously red-headed, so it was unsurprising in some ways.

He had, of course, studied the figures of Laurie and Viola most. It had given him a shock the first time he’d seen them — they looked even more like himself and Tegan. But Tegan seemed to have bypassed that and was just delighted with the whole thing.

‘Thank you. Thank you so much!’ she said, clutching the photo to her chest. ‘This means so much. Honestly, it’s like the icing on the Christmas cake.’

‘Brilliant.’ Ryan smiled. ‘But if you like that, then I think you’re going to love this one.’ His heart pounding, he extracted the second item from the envelope.

It was something that he had never come across before.

In fact, it was something that had been inside his notebook, when he’d gone to take out the wedding photograph. It had fluttered to the floor and he’d leaned down to pick it up, and . . .

But no. He wasn’t going to overthink it, he wasn’t going to wonder how it had got there.

It was there, that was all that mattered.

He offered it to her and Tegan took the folded piece of paper from him, looking up questioningly.

‘Be careful with it,’ he said quietly. ‘I think this is maybe the most precious thing we’ve got. But I still don’t know what relevance it’s got. But — I know it has some.’

‘Okay.’ Tegan nodded, and turned her attention to the paper.

She carefully unfolded it and read it. Then, her eyes wide, she read it out aloud.

‘For the prompt attention of Miss Viola Arthur,’ she said.‘Come to Rose’s garden at midnight on Christmas Eve. Your carriage awaits.’

‘And here,’ said Ryan quietly. ‘We are.’