Sam took a long sip of his mulled wine and continued.

‘We started with the first story in the collection: Canon Alberic’s Scrapbook.’

‘It’s about a fusty old bachelor,’ Grandpa Joe said.

‘Modelled on Josh,’ Lara teased. Luckily for her, there wasn’t another cushion near Josh for him to chuck at her.

‘Throw in an historic building and an old book and you’ve got the perfect Jamesian recipe,’ Sam said.

‘That’s the spidery hand one, isn’t it?’ Bryony said.

‘It is.’

‘Let’s not talk about that hand again please,’ Bryony begged.

‘So, what happens to this fusty old bachelor?’ Callie asked, desperate to get on with the story.

‘We turned all the main lights out that night,’ Sam said. ‘I’d always wanted to read by candlelight.’

‘Bad for your eyes!’ Grandma Nell cried.

‘Yes,’ Sam agreed.

‘And bad for the imagination,’ Bryony said. ‘Like those gas lights in Victorian times. I kept thinking there were things crawling out of the corners of the room.’

‘So I read the story. It’s set in a tiny old town in the foothills of the Pyrenees in France where an academic called Dennistoun is poking around the cathedral. The sacristan is showing him around and won’t leave his side.’

‘Oh, isn’t there some horrible laughter coming from somewhere in the cathedral?’ Lara asked.

‘That’s right. The sacristan keeps his back to the wall and looks uneasy all the time.’

‘And what does Dennistoun make of it all?’ Callie asked.

‘Well, like all idiots in stories,’ Josh came in, ‘he doesn’t seem to be aware of the danger he’s in.’

‘Are you sure we’re not spoiling the story for you?’ Sam asked. ‘I don’t think I should tell you much more in case you want to read it.’

‘I’m not sure I want you to go on after what happened last time,’ Eleanor said.

‘What happened?’ Callie asked.

‘Well, suffice to say that Dennistoun tempted fate and was visited by a demonic creature with hairy hands and piercing eyes,’ Sam said.

Callie shivered.

‘Why do these silly old academics poke their noses into the past all the time?’ Bryony asked.

‘Because there’d be no story if they didn’t,’ Josh pointed out.

Bryony nodded. ‘Good point.’

‘But the Christmas we read those stories, we began to wonder if some of those demons were real, didn’t we?’ Sam added.

‘Yes, when you finished Canon Alberic’s Scrapbook, Mum got up to warm up some mulled wine,’ Josh said.

Eleanor shook her head. ‘I really don’t want to remember it again.’

‘Go on, Mum!’ Polly encouraged. ‘Callie’s going to spontaneously combust any second now if we don’t tell her!’

It was true. Callie found that she was sitting on the edge of the sofa, her eyes wide and her mouth dry in anticipation.

‘I would love to know,’ she admitted.

‘Well,’ Eleanor said, taking a deep breath, ‘I went through to the kitchen. I didn’t put the main lights on. I just had the little one on above the Aga where I was warming the wine. I got the glasses out of the cupboard and put them on the tray and noticed one of the glasses had a smear on it so I took it to the sink to wash. You know there’s a big window by the sink which looks out on to the garden? I noticed the security light had come on and I saw something moving in the shrubbery. I couldn’t really make out what it was, but it was pretty large and ...’ she stopped, staring into the fire as she shook her head.

‘What?’ Callie prompted.

‘It had these brilliantly bright eyes. They looked as if they were burning,’ Eleanor said.

‘You’d been at the wine ahead of everyone else, Mum!’ Josh teased.

‘I swear I hadn’t touched a drop.’

Callie looked closely at Eleanor. Her face was pale as she recounted the story and she looked totally earnest.

‘What happened next?’ Callie asked.

‘I waited to see if the creature would come out into the open but it didn’t.’

‘And that’s when we heard you scream,’ Josh said.

‘I did not scream!’ Eleanor insisted and Josh laughed.

‘Just kidding, Mum!’

‘It’s not a matter to kid about. There was something out there in the dark.’

‘But it turned out to be a stray dog, didn’t it?’ Lara said.

‘A stray dog did show up the next day,’ Frank said. ‘We found it in the field when we were walking our two dogs and rang the local rescue who came to take it. But it came home with us and ate as if it hadn’t eaten in days, poor thing. I really think that’s what you saw in the garden that night, darling.’

Eleanor shook her head. ‘I still think there was something else out there. The stray dog was white and what I saw was black.’

‘It could have been Black Shuck!’ Grandpa Joe cried, getting excited.

‘Oh, what’s Black Shuck?’ Callie asked.

‘The ghostly black dog that’s said to roam around the countryside of East Anglia,’ Polly explained.

‘Most counties of England have a big black beast story,’ Frank pointed out.

‘I’ve never heard of Black Shuck,’ Callie said.

‘Well, there was something out there that night,’ Eleanor said.

‘What do you think it was?’ Callie asked.

‘Oh, I’ve had more than one sleepless night pondering that question,’ Eleanor confessed.

‘And she’s kept me awake more than one night with her pondering and pacing,’ Frank added and everyone laughed.

‘But that’s not the only thing, is it, Mum?’ Lara said.

‘Something else happened?’ Callie asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ Eleanor said. ‘But, first, more wine.’

She got up and left the room, coming back a moment later with a jug filled with mulled wine, the scent perfuming the room as everyone accepted a top up.

‘Only a little for my Nell,’ Grandpa Joe said.

‘Spoilsport!’ Nell said with a little giggle.

‘See – you’re getting merry already,’ Grandpa Joe told her.

‘If a person can’t get merry on Christmas Eve, when can they?’ Grandma Nell said.

Finally, when Eleanor was back on the sofa, she began.

‘After everyone had left that night, I was tidying a few things away. I like that quiet time in the kitchen after a get-together, just pottering around, washing the glasses and loading the dishwasher. Anyway I was taking a tray of clean glasses to put away in the dresser in the room next to the kitchen. You know the room, Callie?’

‘I’ve never been in there but I know where you mean.’

‘I opened the door and put the tray on the table in there, ready to load the glasses into the dresser, when I realised how cold it was. Now, it’s not a room we use a lot and it’s a little colder than the rest of the house but it seemed unnaturally cold in there that night. As cold as a cathedral,’ Eleanor said.

‘Like the cathedral in Canon Alberic’s Scrapbook?’ Lara suggested.

‘Was there a horrible laughter coming from the dresser, Mum?’ Josh teased.

‘No, there wasn’t a horrible laughter but I did draw the curtains and I couldn’t get over the feeling that I was being watched.’

‘I’ve always found that room a bit eerie,’ Polly confessed.

‘It’s just because we don’t use it that much, that’s all,’ Josh said.

‘And did you ever find out why it was so cold in there?’ Callie asked.

‘The radiator needed bleeding,’ Frank said. ‘That was all.’

Josh threw his head back and laughed.

‘Was that it?’ Callie asked.

‘It was the radiator for sure,’ Frank said but Eleanor was shaking her head.

‘It was more than just cold I felt in there,’ she said. ‘I felt a presence.’

Callie swallowed hard. She didn’t like the sound of that. ‘What sort of presence?’

‘A malevolent one.’

‘Mice,’ Frank said. ‘We had mice in there, didn’t we?’

Eleanor smacked his arm. ‘It wasn’t mice.’

‘And it wasn’t a stray dog,’ Josh said, patting his mum’s arm. ‘We know.’

‘Oh, you’re impossible! I thought you believed in ghosts,’ she said to Josh.

‘No,’ he said. ‘But I do believe in a good ghost story. Now, who’s up next?’

But nobody was listening to him.

‘Sweetheart,’ Frank was saying, ‘you just let that M R James book get to you.’ He turned to Callie. ‘Sam let me keep hold of the book because I wanted to have a leisurely read of it, and I made the mistake of bringing it into our bedroom that night. I wanted to read The Mezzotint again. I think that’s one of James’s best stories. Anyway Eleanor came into the room and started screaming, “I can’t sleep with that thing in here! Get it out!” and she took the book out of my hand and slid it across the floor out of the room.’

‘Mum!’ Sam cried. ‘Tell me you didn’t really do that with my first edition!’

‘I was not having that book anywhere near me. Heaven only knows what nightmares I would have had with that thing in the bedroom,’ Eleanor said.

Sam’s mouth had dropped open.

‘I couldn’t stop her, son,’ Frank said.

‘It didn’t stay on the floor all night, did it?’ Sam asked.

‘Of course not,’ Frank assured him. ‘Once I was certain your mother was asleep, I got up and rescued it.’

‘You didn’t bring it into the bedroom, did you?’ Eleanor asked in horror.

‘Why, did you have nightmares?’ Frank asked.

‘Yeah, what did you dream about that night, Mum?’ Josh asked.

Eleanor moved uneasily on the sofa. ‘I don’t remember.’

Frank picked her hand up and kissed it. ‘I think we should probably move the conversation on, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Eleanor agreed.

‘Are there any more mince pies, Mum?’ Bryony asked.

‘Yes, in a tin by the bread bin.’

‘I’ll get them,’ Sam said. ‘I need a stretch.’

‘I’ll help,’ Callie said, getting up and leaving the room with him.

‘Things were getting a little heated in there,’ Sam said once they were out of earshot, ‘and not just from the roaring fire.’

‘You know, your mum doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to just imagine these sorts of things,’ Callie observed.

‘She isn’t. She’s the most no-nonsense person you could ever hope to meet. But that book really upset her.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Callie said.

‘Are you okay?’ Sam asked, tilting his head to look at her. ‘You’re awfully pale. Don’t tell me you’ve seen a ghost now.’

‘No, I’ve not seen a ghost,’ she said with a grin. ‘I was just thinking how strange it is that a book could have had such an effect on her.’

‘I suppose it’s a good job I got rid of it,’ he said. ‘Much as I miss it.’ He opened the tin and then reached into one of the cupboards for a plate, piling the mince pies onto it.

‘Do you ever regret selling it?’ Callie asked, biting her lip.

‘Every single day.’

‘Really?’

‘It was a beautiful book.’

Callie nodded and swallowed hard. ‘Yes, I can imagine.’

‘Have you ever let go of a book and then regretted it?’

Callie thought for a moment. ‘I once leant a book to a friend knowing, I suppose, that the odds of getting it back were pretty slim. She was so forgetful.’

‘And you didn’t remind her?’

‘I didn’t have the heart although I did take a quick look at her shelves when I went round to hers,’ Callie confessed.

‘And did you see it?’

‘Yes. It was right there snuggling up to her own titles which she’d probably borrowed from other friends.’

Sam laughed. ‘And you didn’t just reach out and take it back?’

‘No. I’ve got plenty of books. I couldn’t begrudge her one.’

Sam leaned forward and kissed her cheek. ‘You’re an angel.’

‘No I’m not. I made a mental note not to lend her any more books in the future.’

‘Quite right,’ Sam said. ‘Now, I think we’d better get these mince pies back to the masses before they send out a search party.’

The mince pies were soon passed around and nobody spoke for a while as they were enjoyed. Callie gazed into the depths of the fire, thinking about the strange things Eleanor had told them all. Could a book really be haunted? Could ghost stories really transcend into reality? And, if so, how? Did the reading aloud have anything to do with it? Did the words have a power once they were shared aurally? These were things she’d never thought of until that night and it fascinated her.

‘Hey, I think Callie should tell us a ghost story,’ Lara suddenly said.

Callie gasped and quickly shook her head. ‘But I’m hopeless at reading aloud.’

‘You don’t need to read one – just tell us one,’ Polly encouraged.

‘But I don’t know any ghost stories,’ she protested.

‘Oh, nonsense! Everybody knows a ghost story,’ Lara said. ‘Especially a writer. Don’t writers attract stories like filings to a magnet?’

Callie frowned, casting her mind back over the years of growing up in rural Oxfordshire.

‘Well, there was a local legend about the snowdrop girl,’ she said at last.

‘Oooo! That sounds good and spooky,’ Lara said, settling down to get comfortable. ‘Go on, tell us her story!’