Chapter 19
It’s the day of the Sorrel Farm party, and Bea and I spend a good part of it getting ready.
I can’t put my finger on why I’m so jittery, so full of nervous excitement.
It’s a combination of knowing the party is a big deal, having such an incredible dress to wear, and being aware of the fact that, at some point, Miles has started noticing me.
Being aware may be an understatement. I have obsessed, non-stop, since Astrid’s visit last night.
Miles called me a knockout.
He knows my favourite colour.
He knows what size I am.
I’m not invisible to him.
I’m building this up into something it’s not, because I’m conscious of him every minute of the day, but it’s better than nothing. Whatever his feelings are for me, I’ll take them.
I did a conditioning treatment and blow-dried my hair thoroughly this morning so my baby hairs lie flat and sleek and don’t fly around my face.
My flatmate Becky, who spent a few years as a hairdresser in New Zealand, packed me off with a box of heated rollers this morning, giving me a demonstration on how to use them.
I put them in my hair when we’re back from the park and add a couple on top of Bea’s head, because her FOMO kicks in as soon as she sees them.
Miles has warned me to be ready for three o’clock sharp. By two forty-five, Bea and I have matching red nails and are both wearing our scarlet party dresses. Bea’s comprises red tulle over a stiff skirt, with gold sparkles all over. She looks like a doll and she’s thrilled with herself.
My hair has miraculously settled into loose, glossy curls and I’ve taken more care over my makeup than on any occasion in recent history.
Scarlet lips, at Becky’s insistence during our detailed and excited debrief last night.
I keep my eye makeup simple to balance out my mouth: creamy eyeshadow and a classic flick in black liner.
Gold hoop earrings. I suspect Astrid will approve.
A final check in the mirrored bathroom confirms I will do this glorious dress justice.
We’ve already laid my sleepwear out on the spare room bed. I’m staying here tonight, because we have The Nutcracker matinee tomorrow. Bea is so excited that I’m sleeping over, bless her.
We waltz to Last Christmas to kill time. I’m afraid to sit down in this dress, though it will probably get creased in the car, anyway. I’m twirling a breathless and hugely excited Bea around the living room when Miles comes in.
He shuts the door and stops, the hand holding his phone dropping slackly to his side. His gaze travels the length of my body before making eye contact with me.
‘Wow.’
‘Daddy!’ Bea runs towards him, and he bends to grab her and swings her up in the air.
‘Look at you, princess! You. Are. Beautiful.’ Bea snuggles into him, and he punctuates his words with kisses on Bea’s cheek before he resumes staring at me.
‘You look beautiful, too.’ His words tell me he’s just being polite. He told Bea she looked beautiful, and he’s used the same phrase for me. Playing it safe?
But his eyes tell a different story.
It’s almost as if he can’t believe I scrub up well. He looks transfixed.
‘Thank you.’ I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, rooted to the ground.
He blinks and bumps Bea higher on his hip. ‘Great dress. Astrid’s a superstar. Right, princess. You come with me.’
He strides across the suite with Bea in his arms. ‘I’m going to get changed. We leave in five,’ he says over his shoulder.
Sorrel Farm is a veritable winter wonderland. It couldn’t be more different from the Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. This is what the phrase is supposed to mean! This is authentic. Wondrous.
The magic began as soon as Dave pulled into the driveway. The car was flagged down by an elf, who gestured for him to wind the window down.
‘Welcome to Sorrel Farm! Do we have any children in this car?’
‘We certainly do, mate.’ Dave lowered the back window as Bea giggled in her car seat.
‘Merry Christmas!’ The elf beamed at her and stretched over me, handing Bea an ornate golden key. ‘You’ll need this to get into the Walled Garden. You take good care of it, now, you ‘ear me?’
‘I will!’ Bea shouted.
Now we’re in the Walled Garden, thanks to Bea’s key, and it is spectacular.
The ancient walls are illuminated, the fruit trees up-lit and bedecked with fairy lights.
A long bar, dressed as if it’s part of an old Christmas market, is off to our left.
A colourful, wintry throng of guests is in the foreground and people are hugging, laughing and drinking. It’s magic.
Miles is being very… attentive. He’s introduced me to everyone as just Saoirse, not as Bea’s nanny. He’s stuck to me like glue, his hand hovering lightly on my back as he ushers me through the crowds, and just now, he held my hand as we walked through a muddy patch.
Just like when we were ice-skating, I couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin through both our gloves, but I could feel the delicious firmness of his grip.
The problem with little gestures like that is that when I don’t have them, am not near him, I crave them, but as soon as he throws me a bone, I get greedy.
I want more.
We’re queuing at the outdoor bar when a man’s voice shouts, ‘Montague!’
Miles lights up. ‘Mate!’ He throws his arms around a good-looking, dark-haired man and gives him a good bro-hug, before disentangling himself and kissing the woman with him. He turns to me.
‘Saoirse, meet Jack and Emmy Fisher. Jack, Emmy, this is Saoirse. Ladies, why don’t you take the kids over there? Jack and I will queue for the drinks.’
I make my way out of the queue, gripping Bea’s hand firmly. Emmy follows me. She has an utterly adorable little toddler boy on one hip, and she holds hands with a dark-haired girl who has a few years on Bea. She addresses Bea first.
‘Hi Bea! Do you remember me? I’m Emmy, and this is Bertie and Mia. You came and played in our pool with us in the summer, remember? We had a doughnut floaty.’ She touches Bea gently on the noise.
‘Oh, yeah!’ Bea’s shyness is forgotten. ‘We had a water fight!’
‘We did!’ Emmy smiles at her. She’s so beautiful; she looks like Rachel McAdams. ‘You soaked your daddy, you little monkey, remember? And you played with Mia on the climbing frame.’
She straightens up. ‘Bea’s such a sweetie. She and Mia got on so well in the summer. Mia really mothered her. You guys must come down again over Christmas. Are you Miles’ girlfriend?’
I wish. It’s a thrill just to be asked that question, even if the answer is a big fat negative. ‘No.’ I smile at Emmy. ‘I’m the nanny, actually. Miles is being very kind; he let me tag along today because he knew what a kick I’d get out of seeing this place. It’s so amazing.’
‘Isn’t it? The first time I came here, it was for the Christmas party too, and I was so heartbroken over Jack.
That was pretty much exactly two years ago, in fact.
Anyway, I had a chat with a lovely guy here—Evelyn’s husband, Angus, and he gave me a pep talk about how fortune favours the brave, and, well, Jack and I ended up together. ’
I gasp. ‘That’s an amazing story. So romantic. And then, you had this little one?’ I stroke the little boy in Emmy’s arms under his chin. He’s such a beautiful kid, with huge, dark eyes.
‘Not quite.’ Emmy grimaces. ‘It wasn’t that tidy.
I was pregnant with Bertie when I met Jack.
He was my boss. Yep,’—catching my expression—‘not ideal. But we got there in the end, and he legally adopted Bertie as soon as we got married. I’m so lucky I met him.
Mia’s Jack’s with his ex-wife. They’ve got four kids.
And I’m pregnant again. It seemed to make sense to actually make a baby together. ’
‘Wow.’ I laugh. ‘Congratulations. Sounds like there are a few stories there, all right.’
‘You can say that again.’ Emmy rolls her eyes, but she pats her stomach, which sticks out from under her coat very slightly.
‘So Jack was your’—I glance down at Bea and lower my voice—‘boss? Were you his nanny?’
‘God, no. He has a non-profit, and he hired me to help him. We run it together now. That’s how we know Miles; Montague Group is a big backer. How long have you been working with him?’
‘I’m just temping for the month. They’re off to the Caribbean for New Year.’
‘He must be paying you well if you’re wearing Astrid Carmichael.’
I look down at my outfit in surprise.
‘I’m good at designer labels these days. My sister is an influencer. She’s here tonight, wearing that coat in brown. I’d recognise it anywhere. It’s absolutely divine. I’ll have to drop serious hints to Jack.’
‘It’s just on loan.’ I stroke it fondly. ‘Miles got Astrid over last night with some dresses and this coat. It was so nice of him, because I was really worried about what to wear.’
‘Wowsers.’ Emmy raises her eyebrows. ‘He asked Astrid Carmichael to come over and dress his nanny. You must have made quite an impression on him.’
‘No.’ I feel myself blushing in the dark. ‘He’s just really kind. And he probably didn’t want me embarrassing him, turning up in Primark.’
‘He’s very attractive.’ Emmy looks at me sagely. ‘I’m head over heels in love with my husband, but he’s very attractive. And a great dad. And a lovely guy. Not the most warm and fuzzy, at first glance. But a great guy.’
‘He is.’ I clear my throat. ‘He’s all those things.’
‘Just remember, fortune favours the brave. I was standing here, two years ago, utterly heartbroken, and Angus saved me with those words. Maybe it’s time I pay it forward.’