The reflection of a person standing behind her shone in one of the baubles. ‘Happy Christmas, Lou,’ a man’s voice said.

Lou spun around.

‘Surprised to see me?’ Will asked.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I came to see you.’

‘Me? What … How …?’

‘Everyone comes here on Christmas morning.’ Will smiled. ‘Take a deep breath, Lou. You’re doing a brilliant impression of a goldfish.’

Lou did her best to slow the rate of her breathing.

‘Better?’ Will asked.

She nodded.

‘Good. Come with me.’

Lou followed Will away from the hall and the singing, and into the morning room. Like the hall, it was just as she remembered. The sofas, plump cushions and rugs were a little faded and worn around the edges, but they were all still there. Only now, there was a rope barrier stopping anyone going further than a few feet into the room. Within the boundary of what could be explored was a brightly lit glass cabinet full of photographs, each accompanied by a small typed card interpreting its significance to the story of the family whose history this cabinet contained. The Mandevilles.

‘Wait there a second,’ Will said. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’

A surprise. Was he kidding? Her world had turned into one giant surprise. She scanned the photographs and cards behind the glass, but couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Will returned, pushing a wheelchair. He stopped before Lou. The old man hunched over with a blanket across his knees, lifted his chin from his chest. His thin lips formed a smile.

‘Bertie!’ Lou took his hands, feeling the crooked bones beneath his delicate skin

‘You haven’t changed at all, Miss Louisa,’ Bertie said. As he spoke, his eyes shone. ‘It seems like only yesterday that I last saw you.’

‘For me, it was. Last night, you were a little boy hiding at the top of the stairs. And now … What’s happening to me, Bertie? Am I really here? Did I dream everything that happened last week? Am I dreaming now?’

‘No, Miss Louisa, you’re not dreaming. None of this has been a dream,’ he said.

Lou looked from Bertie to Will. He was smiling. ‘So, you know my great-granddad, Albert,’ he said.

‘Your great-granddad?’

‘And I believe you met my Auntie Julie last week.’

‘But you’re an archivist … at the library … I saw you there … you helped me.’

‘I am. And I did,’ Will said, still smiling.

Bertie lifted his chin from his chest again. ‘You see, Miss Louisa, William has inherited my gift. And it is a gift. The most wonderful gift that can be bestowed on a person.’

‘You’re a … a …’ She struggled to find a suitable word. ‘You’re a cipher for Hill House. Is that what you are?’

‘Something like that,’ Will said.

‘You know about … about me and what happened.’

‘A little,’ Will said. ‘I know about a young woman called Louisa Arnold, who helped the Mandevilles, and in helping them, she helped my family.’