Mia was feeling miserable. Having the hangover from hell wasn't helping and neither was the weather. So much for the forecasters predicting the Indian Summer would go on until mid- October. The heavens opened shortly after dawn on Sunday morning and it bucketed with rain all day.

Of course, the reason for her sombre mood was Jet. Had she been completely wrong about him? She had been so certain he was falling in love with her but that he simply wouldn't admit it. Not to himself, and certainly not to her. But the look he had given her when he walked away last night, made her wonder if, in fact, he was more like his dad than she realised. Not that she knew what his dad was like, having never met him. And perhaps that was the problem. She didn't really know Jet either. She just thought she did. She had convinced herself she did.

And her dreams on Saturday night hadn't helped. She'd dreamt she was in the steeple of St Michael and All Angels and the stairs were going on forever. She couldn't reach the top. She couldn't get out. A bell was tolling – just like the fortune-teller had said it would – and it was a mellifluous sound at first, turning to a doom-like warning bell the more she ran. And suddenly, she was falling and falling and calling for Jet. But he was nowhere to be seen. And when she woke up, she couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

'You look like death,' Ella said at breakfast.

'I feel even worse,' Mia replied. 'I'm not setting foot outside today. I'm going to the attic and I'm not coming out till bedtime.'

'What happened with Jet? You wouldn't talk about it last night. Ready to today?'

'Nope. I don't want to talk about Jet today, or for the foreseeable future, in fact. I thought Mattie had secrets and liked to keep things hidden but Jet beats her hands down. That man has hidden his true feelings so deep inside he may never find them again.'

'He walked away again, didn't he?'

'Yep. It seems to be his thing.'

She made herself coffee, grabbed a banana from the bowl and a bottle of water from the fridge, and padded upstairs to the attic, only returning to the kitchen at seven that evening when Gill said he had made dinner and insisted she come down and eat.

'It gets a bit much when I can't do what I want in my own cottage,' she moaned, but she grinned at him as he poured her a glass of wine and put a huge bowl of Thai Green, chicken curry in front of her. It was her favourite dish, as Ella had probably told him.

'Good day in the attic, dear?' Ella joked.

'Yes, actually. I now know why Mattie was chucked out, and how she got involved with SIS.'

Ella gasped. 'And when were you going to tell us?'

Mia grinned. 'I'll tell you now. I didn't want to tell you anything until I'd found out something important and although I've been reading the diaries for a few days now and finding out horrid stuff, there was nothing really exciting until today. Anyway, as you know, they start when she was twelve and it's clear she had a rebellious streak. There are lots of mentions of her getting into trouble and her mum – who sounds a bit of a witch, and not in a good way – actually had her beaten. Can you believe that? She was beaten with a cane. She says she cried the first time but that seemed to please her mother so she never cried again.'

'What a cow. But that generation believed in punishment, not nurture. I remember my mum saying that even in her day her teachers often gave her a rap across the knuckles with a cane.'

'They believed it was character-building,' Gill said, pulling a face that made it clear he found it as distasteful as they did and then he smiled. 'But in Mattie's case it probably was. She learnt at a young age how to take pain and not show it.'

'Hmm. I'm not sure that's good. She then says "Mother found my new diary. She threw it on the fire. I lied and told her it was my first. I got six lashes. She will not find the others. No one will ever find the others." So that's when she started hiding things. She was fourteen at the time and it was January, so she'd started a new year.'

'Learning life skills along the way,' Ella said, sarcastically. 'Did her dad know what her mum was like?'

'I'll get to that. You wait until you hear that bit. I couldn't believe it.'

'Well, get on with it,' Ella said.

'Shouldn't we eat first?' Gill suggested.

'Okay. But hurry up. And Mia can still talk. Just not with her mouth full or I'll rap her across the knuckles.'

'Try it and see how long you live,' Mia joked. She took a mouthful of curry, ate it quickly, swallowed and continued: 'So. She's always getting caught for doing stuff she shouldn't. She gives a maid a dress that no longer fits and her mum finds out, burns the dress, sacks the maid, and, yep, more lashes for Mattie. She climbs a tree with her brother. He gets off scot-free, she gets lashes. She's seen walking in the stable yard, chatting to a groom and yep, more lashes, more sackings. They were wealthy, remember. They had stables, horses, a massive house. Anyway. There are pages of stuff like that. Up until then, she's had a governess but now she gets packed off to boarding school. She says she realises the importance of not being seen doing things someone may disapprove of, so she's more careful after that. She's happier at school but comes home for the holidays. She's still doing stuff but she's no longer getting caught and it seems she's doing more and more outrageous things almost to see what she can get away with. But she's also watching people to see who she can trust and who she can't. Then, when she's seventeen, her mum says they've arranged a marriage for her. Rich people still did in those days, but she's not having it and flatly refuses. She's locked in a room in the attic for three weeks with only one meal a day.'

'Bloody Nora. But what about the dad?'

'Patience. He's hardly ever at home. Except at Christmas and other holidays. The next big thing is one month after she's released from the attic. Her mum's still trying to force her into this marriage but it's now her brother's twenty-first birthday and there's a shindig at the house. Lots of people coming to stay for the weekend. You know, like those house parties we've seen on TV shows set in the 1930s. So, her dad's home and he's got lots of important friends staying. She's following them about, hiding in corridors, listening to conversations, basically having fun. Then when the party's in full swing, she goes up to that room in the attic, which is where she hides her diaries in a box, hidden beneath a type of window seat that's never used. Yep. That's obviously where the idea for the window seat upstairs came from. There's other stuff up there, including a bed, because this is the room she was locked in for three weeks, don't forget. But anyway. What does she see?' Mia took a mouthful of food. 'Oh, Gill, this curry is so delicious. Thank you.'

'What?' Ella shrieked, slapping her on the arm.

Mia pulled a face and chewed her bottom lip. 'She sees her dad, having "intimate relations" she calls it … with one of her brother's best friends! A male, friend. And what's more, he's the very same man that her parents are trying to get her to marry!'

'Bloody Nora!'

'I know!'

'Being gay was illegal in the 1930s,' Gill said, as nonchalantly as if they were discussing the weather. 'It could mean a life sentence.'

 Mia nodded. 'Yes. But her dad's having an affair with her brother's best friend and the man they wanted her to marry! That's even more shocking, isn't it?'

Gill shrugged. 'To her, I suppose it would've been.'

Mia tutted. 'To any woman. Anyway. She goes berserk. Completely berserk. Rushes downstairs and tells her brother, who tells the mum, who goes equally berserk – but not with the dad – with Mattie. For making such a fuss and causing possible embarrassment to the family! Her dad, obviously worried and trying to keep the whole thing quiet, agrees she doesn't have to marry and also agrees she can go off to finishing school in Switzerland, which is what she wants. She says she learnt the importance of knowing other people's secrets and using that knowledge to good purpose. Which is sort of blackmail to you and me.'

'You can't blame her though, can you? What a horrid family!' Ella said.

'Yeah. The sad part is, less than two years later, her dad shoots himself. He can't live with the fear of people finding out and her mum, of course, blames Mattie, and so does her brother, even though Mattie says she swore to her dad that she would never speak of it again. So that's when her mum tells her she's no longer welcome at the house and basically that if they never hear from her again, it will be too soon.'

'Does she have any money or means to support herself?' Gill asked.

'Nope. But at that weekend party, Mattie had met a friend of her dad's who works for SIS although she didn't know that, simply that he was something to do with the government and intelligence. They got on well that weekend – before the business with her dad – so when, almost two years later, she's kicked out, she goes to him to see if he can help her find a job. Anything really because she's broke. When she tells him she can speak fluent French, German and Italian, has no interest in marriage or having children, he sees her potential. I think her mum and dad's relationship, plus her almost-fiancé, have put her off marriage for life. Anyway, she's nineteen, and by the age of twenty, she's in Paris working as a spy. And then when war breaks out, she stays and after Paris is occupied by the Germans in 1940, she catches the eye of a certain German officer, and we know where that's going, don't we? That's all I've read so far. I can't wait to find out more.'

Ella sighed. 'It's hard to believe that by twenty, she'd had more excitement and adventure, pain and suffering than I've had in thirty-four years.'

'Different times,' Gill said.

'Rich people were different in those days too,' said Mia. 'I think. But she does actually say that she has her family, and particularly her mother, to thank for teaching her so many lessons in life that would prove useful in her future. But I don't think she meant it as a compliment. It makes me even more sad that I never met her.'