A Scottish Christmas

Chapter 8

The next few days flew by for Rose as she continued organising the first of the big Christmas events. In a way, this was actually the more stressful one even though the second was undoubtedly fancier and of more importance. This was Rose’s first opportunity to prove herself.

She thought the downstairs looked great, but she wasn’t completely sure Alastair had really noticed any of the decorations she’d put up apart from the Christmas tree he’d been forced to comment on. Which was fine. He didn’t care about Christmas or about how the house was decorated, she could more than understand that. But he would care that his event went without a hitch and that his employees enjoyed themselves.

An entire day was taken up with wrapping all of the presents she’d bought for everyone who worked for Alastair in some capacity on his estate – thirty-six people in total. Obviously she didn’t know everyone, but she’d got advice from Mairi and Mrs Reed and had done her best to get each employee something they’d like. And she’d been instructed by Alastair to get Mairi something special as well as a gift for her baby.

She turned the big table in the library into wrapping central, and she’d already warned Alastair that he would need to come and sign all the cards she’d also written out. It would be helpful if she could move the presents under the tree after she’d finished wrapping each one, but she didn’t trust the dogs not to investigate.

She heard Alastair arrive home with Isla the day before the first event. He’d been in meetings all day and had picked her up on his way home.

“Hello, Mrs Reed, hello Rose,” called out Isla.

“Hello!” called out Mrs Reed from the kitchen.

Rose came out into the hallway. “Hi, Isla. Did you have a good day at school?”

“Pretty good. Physics was a bit boring. I’ve got some homework to do.” Isla glanced through into the library. “Will there be room for me to join you?”

“Sure,” Rose said, smiling. “I’m almost done with the wrapping and can clear most of it away now. You are going to have to help me convince your dad to come in and sign all the Christmas cards.”

Isla laughed. “Good luck with that one!” she said.

“I said I’d do it and I will,” the man in question said with a sigh.

“The party’s tomorrow . . .” Rose pointed out.

“I know . . .”

“And there’s no time like the present. They’re all set out in a pile for you. All you have to do is sign.”

“You could just forge my signature,” Alastair suggested. “I can get you a copy.”

Rose glared at him.

“Fine,” he said. “Can I at least get changed first?”

“You can. I’ll even make you a cup of coffee which will be waiting for you in the library,” Rose offered.

“Okay, I’ll be down soon,” Alastair said.

“I wouldn’t trust him,” remarked Isla, making both adults laugh.

“I’ll be less than five minutes,” Alastair said. “You can time me if you like.”

“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” said Rose . . . noticing Isla clocking the time on her phone.

* * *

True to his word, Alastair was back downstairs just a few minutes later. He was wearing one of his thick wool jumpers and a pair of faded blue jeans.

“Thank you,” said Rose, handing him the pile of cards and a pen and turning back to the last of the wrapping.

“No, thank you ,” said Alastair. “It looks like you’ve done a brilliant job.”

“I guess we’ll see what people think tomorrow!”

“Are you nervous?” Alastair asked.

“A little,” admitted Rose.

“I’m sure it will go brilliantly.”

“It’ll be really busy around here from about midday . . .” Rose explained.

“So you’d prefer it if I kept out of the way?”

“Exactly.” Rose grinned.

“I’ll be at my offices on the far side of the estate until after five.”

“Perfect.” Rose giggled as Alastair shook his head in mock despair.

Isla came in to join them with her homework and the three fell into silence, each absorbed in their tasks, until Alastair breathed a sigh of relief and handed the signed cards back to Rose.

“May I be released from service?” he asked.

“Do I have to check them or can I trust that you signed them all and not just the ones at the top and bottom?”

Alastair laughed. “I solemnly swear that I signed every single one of those cards.”

“Then, yes, you may go,” agreed Rose.

“You two are so funny,” Isla voiced, looking between the two adults who smiled at each other awkwardly.

* * *

Nerves kept Rose awake for most of the night and she was up early feeling rather sick. She showered and made her way downstairs to the kitchen, thinking a cup of tea might revive her.

Mrs Reed was already hard at work as usual, though Rose had made sure there wouldn’t be anything extra she had to do for the event.

“Rough night?” she asked, kindly. She placed a mug of tea in front of Rose, doing her usual trick of knowing exactly what someone needed.

“A bit,” admitted Rose. “I just really hope tonight goes well.”

“I’m sure it will. You’ve worked so hard and the house looks absolutely wonderful.”

“Thank you.”

“Here you go, to keep your strength up for the duration,” Mrs Reed said, putting a plate full of food down in front of Rose.

“Oh, thank you, but I’m so nervous, I’ll never be able to eat all this!” Rose looked down at the sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes, baked beans, mushrooms and fried bread.

“You just eat whatever you can manage.” Mrs Reed squeezed Rose’s shoulder.

“I hope there’s some left for me,” Alastair quipped as he entered the kitchen.

“There is,” said Mrs Reed. “Not that you’ll be working as hard as Rose today, but still . . .”

Alastair laughed. “A fair comment.”

He sat down opposite Rose and began to eat from the plate Mrs Reed passed him.

“Are you all set for tonight?” he asked.

“I hope so! I’m picking the suit you wanted to wear up from the dry cleaners later this morning, by the way.”

“Excellent, thank you. And are you all sorted for something to wear? Did you bring something suitable from London? You know it’s not black tie or anything . . .”

“I mean, obviously, I’m going to be here to keep an eye on things and will dress appropriately. I’ll be in the background and on hand to sort out anything that needs sorting. I’ll likely stay out of the way in the kitchen if all is running smoothly . . .”

“Don’t be silly!” Alistair put his knife and fork down. “You have to attend ― properly attend! I always meant you to,” he declared.

“Absolutely,” agreed Mrs Reed, nodding away . . . and now with hands on hips.

“This party is for everyone who works for me to have a night where they can relax and let their hair down. I expect your hair to be let down as well. Unless you’d rather wear it up, of course,” Alastair said, sounding flustered.

“That’s really nice of you,” Rose said. “But what if something goes wrong . . .”

“I doubt it will. It sounds like you’ve organised everything brilliantly, but if it does then you’ll be right here. The catering staff will be able to find you easily enough.”

“I suppose.”

“Have you got something you can wear?” asked Mrs Reed.

“Yes . . .” said Rose, remembering the little black cocktail dress she’d packed and brought with her just in case.

“Perfect then,” said Alastair, smiling. “Because, frankly, if I have to go to this thing then I see no reason why you should be able to get out of it!”

* * *

The day flew by as Rose went out to pick up Alastair’s suit and some last-minute bits she’d thought of. She arrived back in plenty of time to have a cup of tea and check her to-do list before she began moving around the furniture.

Mac, the gardener, had been engaged to bring down all the extra chairs from the attic as well as a bunch of little tables and to help clear as much furniture out of the way as possible. The dining room table was extended as far as it would go and that, along with some extra trolleys provided by the caterers would be where the buffet would be served. People could then eat in there or in the drawing room. The library was set up with a bar and as a quieter place for people who wanted to talk, away from the noise of the music and later the karaoke machine.

The aim of this event was for people to relax and just have a great night out with their work friends. Rose was a tiny bit concerned about people getting carried away with all the free drinks, but she hoped that Alastair’s presence would put a stop to that. Alastair’s company was paying for taxis home for all the guests so no one had to worry about driving. She guessed if anyone did get too inebriated, they could just be subtly popped into a taxi early.

The caterers arrived and soon it was non-stop busy with the kitchen, drawing room, dining room and library being completely taken over by them. Rose was glad she had her room as a sanctuary from the madness and a place she could go to hide for a minute to recalibrate. She did a little sketching to calm her nerves during the moments she wasn’t needed. The DJ and the karaoke machine arrived and set up in the drawing room.

There should be plenty of room for everyone , she thought, relieved that it was all coming together. She hoped it would be a fun night and everyone would be happy with the change of format. Usually they had a meal in a restaurant and there was sometimes dancing afterwards. From what Mairi had told her, it appeared that everyone was usually home and tucked up in their beds by 10 p.m., which sounded pretty tame for a Christmas party. But had she gone too far in the other direction?

But then what could she do? It wasn’t like she had a lot of options when she’d been asked to organise this party only a couple of weeks ago. Considering what was available to her at such a late date, she thought she’d done a really great job. Fingers crossed everyone else, especially Alastair, agreed.

* * *

Mrs Reed had left at lunchtime as there were going to be so many people milling around and there wouldn’t be anything left for her to do. She’d hugged Rose before she left. “It’ll be brilliant,” she whispered in her ear. Mrs Reed would be returning later on, along with her husband, as guests to the event itself.

Isla wasn’t around either as she was having a sleepover at her friend Lucy’s house.

* * *

The party was due to start at seven and everything was going smoothly so Rose escaped upstairs to get changed at six. She thanked past-Rose for remembering to pack shoes to go with her dress.

Her cocktail dress was a favourite and made her feel a little like Audrey Hepburn with its high boat-line neck and flared skirt. She hoped she still looked professional enough despite the fact that she was showing quite a bit of leg. Well, she thought, she didn’t have anything else to wear, so this would have to do. She reapplied her make-up, following a YouTube tutorial to give herself flawless skin and sultry eyes , and was quite pleased with the results. Finally, she used a curling iron on her hair to create some soft curls around her face, and declared herself fit for the evening.

She was downstairs again half an hour before guests were due and reached the entrance hall just as Alastair came in the front door. The expression on his face as he looked around his home, taken over by Christmas and caterers, was priceless and Rose wished she’d been able to save it for posterity. Isla would have found it hilarious.

It took Alastair a moment to notice Rose amid the hustle and bustle. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of her and he seemed to momentarily lose the power of speech.

“Perfect timing,” she said, breaking the tension. “Do you need anything before you head upstairs to change?”

“Um, no, thank you, I’ll just . . . I’ll see you in a bit . . .” He hurried past her, taking the stairs two at a time.

That was interesting , Rose thought to herself. She hadn’t expected a dress to receive that much of a reaction. She tried and failed to hide the smile on her face as she proceeded to check in with everyone and ensure that all was ready for when the guests arrived.

* * *

The party was in full swing and everyone seemed to be having a great time. She caught glimpses of Alastair now and again, looking almost impossibly handsome with the top button of his shirt undone, but he seemed to be doing an excellent job of keeping out of her way. At least he was still here, she consoled herself.

Rose had so far spent most of the evening, when she wasn’t busy making sure that everything was running smoothly, with Mairi, who’d introduced herself as soon as she’d arrived with her husband, Mark. Mairi was just as lovely as Rose had imagined she would be and it was nice to have someone to talk to so she didn’t feel like a wallflower.

Once the food was eaten and out of the way, people began to dance. Mrs Reed had returned to the house with her husband and was the life and soul of the party, much to Rose’s delight.

Alastair was then conspicuous by his absence. Rose wandered around, checking everything was okay and that everyone was enjoying themselves. As she suspected, no one was getting too carried away with the drink, having their boss at the party with them was having the desired effect.

She did start to wonder where Alastair had gone though. She gave him half an hour and then sent him a text asking, “ Are you in hiding ?” and put her phone back in the kitchen drawer. Stupid women’s clothes with no pockets, she thought.

She wandered back out to the party and was watching Mrs Reed and Mac busting some moves on the dance floor, when she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to find herself facing Alastair. He must have realised how close they were because he took a little step back.

He handed her a glass of wine.

“Thank you,” Rose said. “But I’m not drinking while I’m working. My boss might see.” She grinned.

“Everything’s fine,” said Alastair, returning the smile. “People have eaten. The caterers are almost packed up. I’ve tipped them and they’re going to email the invoice. You’re officially off duty and it’s time for you to enjoy yourself. I’ve asked that any problems be brought to me to deal with. Not that there will be any problems,” he added, noticing the worried look crossing Rose’s face. “You’ve worked really hard and everyone’s having a great time. It’s time for you to properly relax.”

“Thank you,” she said and took a sip of wine and then stopped. “What is this? This isn’t what we’ve been serving ― I tasted that a few days ago.”

“That’s a little something special,” said Alastair, with a wink.

“It’s really good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

The song ended and the DJ announced that karaoke would begin in just a few moments.

Alastair’s face fell as he turned to Rose. “Did he just say what I think he did? Karaoke?”

“He did, I’m afraid.” Rose struggled not to laugh.

“I don’t like you very much right now,” Alastair announced as Mrs Reed marched up to the microphone and declared she was going to sing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with her husband.

“I understand that,” said Rose, as solemnly as she could manage.

“I can’t believe you didn’t warn me!”

“Can you blame me?”

“I suppose not . . .”

They stood and watched the performers for a while.

“Admit it, everyone loves it,” said Rose smugly.

“Not everyone,” muttered Alastair.

“So, were you hiding upstairs before you came to bring me this wine?” Rose asked.

“No!” Alastair said, indignantly. “I was in the wine cellar, choosing the wine for you.”

“For how long?” asked Rose, narrowing her eyes.

“Maybe a little longer than was strictly necessary.”

Rose gave a roll of her eyes. “I’m glad you decided to come back.”

“I got your message and figured I’d been rumbled.” He shrugged as he looked at his feet.

“I didn’t even know you had a wine cellar so I wouldn’t have thought to check it. You probably could have got away with hiding out down there for a little while longer.”

“I should have thought of that.”

Mrs Reed appeared seemingly out of nowhere and thrust a microphone into Alastair’s hand. “You’re up!” she said, firmly and loudly enough for everyone around them to hear.

“Oh no, not me,” said Alastair, backing away while simultaneously attempting to give the microphone back. He looked absolutely petrified.

Mrs Reed put her hands behind her back and Alastair frantically tried to pass it to Rose who wouldn’t take it. “The karaoke was your idea!” he said.

“I thought I’d be working!”

Mrs Reed signalled to her husband who brought over another microphone and handed it to her.

“You can do a duet,” Mrs Reed declared, taking advantage of their shock to thrust the second microphone at Rose. “I think ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ will do perfectly.” The other guests let out a cheer.

Alastair and Rose found themselves gently shoved towards their fate.

* * *

“I can’t believe I did that,” said Alastair. He and Rose were hiding in the wine cellar, recovering from their ordeal with the rest of the special bottle of wine. They sat on the floor with their backs to the wall.

“We were dreadful . Truly dreadful,” laughed Rose. “I’m going to be having flashbacks for years.”

“I’m charging Mrs Reed for my therapy sessions. I don’t care that she’s practically family and has been housekeeper here since before I was born,” Alastair muttered.

“I’ve got to ask, do you know her first name? Or is it a mystery to you as well?” Rose queried.

“It’s Carol,” mock whispered Alastair. “But I’ve never dared call her that to her face.”

“I don’t blame you . . . Carol . . .” Rose tried out the name. “I think she’ll always be Mrs Reed to me.”

“Me too,” Alastair admitted. “And not just because I’m genuinely scared of what her reaction would be if I called her Carol.”

“Come on,” said Rose getting up from the floor. “We’d better get back to the fun.”

“Do we have to?” asked Alastair. “I doubt anyone would notice if I didn’t go back.”

“Yes, they would!” she said, hauling him to his feet, trying not to notice that his hand was more calloused than she’d imagined. She knew from Mrs Reed that he usually spent part of his working week actually on the estate tending to the animals and the land, presumably that was the cause. “Come on. It’s cold in here.”

“I should have offered you my jacket,” Alastair said.

“I’m fine.” Rose grinned. “It’ll be over soon. The taxis are coming to pick everyone up in under half an hour.”

Rose reached the cellar door and felt Alastair hang back. “Your torture is so nearly ended,” she said, taking hold of his hand again to pull him along behind her.

Just then the cellar door opened and Mrs Reed stood in front of them. She looked from Rose to Alastair. Her confusion was clear.

“Mrs Reed, hello,” said Alastair, overly brightly.

“What on earth are you both doing in the wine cellar?” asked Mrs Reed, glancing from one to the other like they’d been caught smoking behind the bike shed. “I saw the light was on and thought I heard voices. I didn’t expect to find you two though!”

“We were just getting some wine . . .” Rose mumbled, holding up the near-empty bottle she had in her hand.

“Better get back to the party,” Alastair said, briskly.

Mrs Reed moved to the side.

Alastair and Rose scurried off in the direction of the library. Rose didn’t dare catch Alastair’s eye in case she burst into a fit of giggles.

“Oh dear,” she said when they were well out of Mrs Reed’s earshot.

“I don’t think I’ve been given that look since she caught me attempting to make my own fireworks in the workshop when I was about eleven.”

“We’d better behave ourselves for the rest of the evening.”

“Agreed. I’ll do a final round of the party chatting to everyone,” Alastair said.

“Great, I’ll see you later.”

Rose wandered around herself, checking in with the bar staff and just generally making sure that everything was winding down well. She watched Alastair out of the corner of her eye. She could tell now that she knew him better that he wasn’t completely comfortable in his suit. What might initially come across as standoffish to an outside observer was actually that he’d rather be in one of his thick wool jumpers chatting to his daughter in the kitchen while sipping a cup of tea. He wasn’t a natural in a suit, even if he did look really good in one.

Rose breathed a sigh of relief at midnight when the taxis began to arrive and people fetched their coats and started to leave. It had been a great evening and she was so glad it had been a success; she was very ready for it to be over though.

She waited by the front door, saying goodbye and thanking everybody for coming and handing out the presents. She was joined by Alastair when she managed to catch his attention and convey through a glare that this was also where he needed to be.

When she saw Mrs Reed and her husband approaching, she glanced frantically around for an escape route, but there was none, there were too many people milling about.

“Good night, Mrs Reed, Mr Reed,” she said pleasantly, plastering a smile upon her face. “I hope you’ve had a good evening.”

“We’ve had a wonderful time, thank you,” said Mr Reed, beaming.

“Yes,” said Mrs Reed. “A lovely evening. You must be exhausted and anxious to get into your bed. And sleep,” she finished pointedly.

“Absolutely,” agreed Rose, trying to keep a straight face.

Mrs Reed threw Rose and Alastair one last anxious look before leaving with a somehow ominous sounding, “I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.”

Rose fought not to make eye contact with Alastair. She knew that would be her undoing and she wouldn’t be able to help laughing. “See you then,” she managed to say keeping a fairly straight face.

When the last of the guests had left, Alastair turned to Rose and said, “Are you going to bed now?”

“I think it might be a good idea to hang around until the bar staff and the DJ have finished packing up . . .”

“I’d forgotten about them,” said Alastair with a little sigh. “Would you like a nightcap with me while they work?”

“Sure,” said Rose, with a carefully nonchalant shrug. There was nothing for her to do other than wait for people to be ready to leave anyway.

“I’ll get some whisky and meet you in the sitting room,” he said.

“Okay.”

Rose let the DJ and the bartenders know where she would be when they were done and then joined Alastair who was lighting the fire.

She collapsed into one of the two armchairs facing the fire and pulled the blanket resting on the arm over to cover her. She closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself to decompress. She opened them as she heard Alastair pouring the drinks. He passed her one. “This whisky is from a distillery near here,” he said as he sat down in the chair next to hers and took a sip.

Rose tried the drink and felt the amber liquid travel down her throat, soothing and warming it.

“It’s good. Do you own the distillery?” Rose asked, making him smile. He was extremely attractive in the firelight.

“I hope to soon. That’s what last weekend’s meeting was about.”

Rose shook her head. “You know your life isn’t exactly normal, don’t you?”

Alastair nodded. “I’m aware of how lucky I am. Even on nights like tonight.”

“I’m sorry you hated it,” said Rose.

“That’s not your fault. You did a fantastic job putting this on so last minute. I’m just not the most sociable of creatures.”

“Your home will be completely back to normal very soon,” comforted Rose.

“Until next Saturday . . .”

“That will all be outside,” she reminded him. “I’ve even hired posh Portaloos so no one needs to come into the house except the caterers to use the kitchen, though they do a lot in their van.”

Alastair laughed. “I’m sorry I’m so awkward.”

“It’s your home, you can be as awkward as you want,” she said with a shrug. “And if you’d rather I tried to stay out of your hair more when you’re home in the evenings . . .”

“No! No, not at all,” said Alastair quickly. Their eyes met, momentarily sending a warm buzz through Rose before he looked away and focused on his glass. “I want you to think of this as your home while you’re here, and . . . Isla and I like having you around.”

“I like being here. You have a beautiful home and you know I think Isla is amazing.”

“She’s definitely that . . .”

“You’ve done a fantastic job bringing her up.”

“Thank you,” Alastair said slowly. “Honestly, it hasn’t always been easy but she’s more than worth it.”

There was a knock at the sitting room door. “Come in,” called out Alastair, and the DJ opened the door.

“I’m about to head off and I think the other guys are too,” he said.

“Excellent, I’ll come and see you out,” said Rose, getting up from her seat.

“You stay there,” said Alastair, placing a hand gently on her arm, producing another buzz. “I’ll sort this out, you’re exhausted.”

Rose knew she should protest, this being part of her job after all, but she really was tired, so she nodded and said, “Thank you.”