Chapter 2 #3
‘Yes. I work for the flagship Calloways shop on Oxford Street and, although I’ve never decorated a castle before, my entire career revolves around decorating and making things shine, especially at Christmas. Your job posting seemed like the perfect fit.’
‘You really want to travel all the way to Scotland in December to decorate a castle? Isn’t this your busiest time of year?’
‘I… um…’ I’ve rehearsed this. I’m going to tell him that I’ve got annual leave to use before year end, and I’ve already completed the remaining windows for December and left them in the capable hands of my team to install, but I look into the camera and see his encouraging half-smile, the remains of a blush reddening his cheeks from discussing his situation with me, and the only thing I want to do is be completely honest. ‘One of my windows went wrong and I’ve lost my job. ’
‘It’s not that one with Santa eating Paddington’s innards, is it?’
Oh, God, even Scotland knows. It’s been just over a day and the whole country has seen the biggest disaster of my career to date.
Come on, Lula, laugh and say, ‘No, don’t be silly, of course not!’ This is going to make me unhireable, even to men in the furthest reaches of Scotland who have got their own work-related problems.
He obviously meant it as a joke, but my silence as I scramble for an answer makes his eyes widen. ‘Oh, wow, it is? That was hilarious!’
‘Not if you’re a small child with a fondness for marmalade-sandwich-loving bears and a vested interest in Santa’s dietary preferences. You know, should you put out a mince pie and glass of milk on Christmas Eve, or your most beloved teddy bear for him to rip to shreds under the Christmas tree?’
Oliver is laughing so hard that he’s leaning back in his office chair.
‘Oh, that is brilliant. You’re famous! That window spread round the office like wildfire yesterday.
My bosses don’t usually encourage meme-sharing in working hours, but even they got in on that one. You really got sacked for that?’
‘It was a big deal – a big responsibility. I should have been on top of it and I wasn’t. I wasn’t intending to tell you, but…’
‘It seems that I’ve said a few things I wasn’t intending to share on this call too…’
‘And knowing that doesn’t make you not trust me to decorate your castle?’
‘Are you kidding? I feel like I need your autograph,’ he says, still laughing.
‘No, seriously, I’ve looked through your portfolio and your work is outstanding.
I assume that wasn’t your intended vision for the window, and if we could try to keep murder and bloodshed to a minimum, then I need someone who can start right away.
I don’t know how long it’s going to take to decorate a place this size, or if you’re used to working with a team of people, but I can help when I’m not working and I’ve got a housekeeper and a groundsman who are happy to pitch in.
Other than that, it’ll be up to you to make this place glow.
Let me show you a photo of what you’ll be working with… ’
He leans forwards and his attention shifts away from the camera as he focuses on his screen and taps the ‘share screen’ option. I gasp so loudly that my hands fly up to cover my mouth and hold back a squeal.
The castle in the photo he’s showing me is beautiful. It screams Victorian Gothic architecture, with steps leading to a door framed by large columns, multiple arched windows, and one central tower standing tall in the centre with a spire at the top, glinting against the bluest sky imaginable.
‘You seriously live there?’ I haven’t taken my hands away from my face yet because my jaw is still hanging open and my hands might be the only thing stopping it from falling off altogether.
The thought of getting to decorate somewhere like that makes me hold back a squeak of excitement.
Even getting to stay somewhere like that is the sort of thing that doesn’t happen every day.
‘Yeah. It’s actually pretty cosy for a castle. It was my father’s pride and joy and I inherited it. It… er… it looks better than it is. It has a lot of upkeep problems and if I don’t get this promotion then I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do.’
It looks like something out of a fairytale.
There’s no way Princess Aurora isn’t sleeping at the top of that tower, and my mind is flooded with ideas of where I can put lights to accentuate every Gothic curve and steep gable.
I have no idea how I’m going to get up there, but that spire needs a light on its very tip.
‘What do you think?’ Oliver clicks something else and the screen is filled with his face again. ‘They’re arriving on the 23rd. Is that enough time?’
‘It’s incredible. Inspirational. And the timeframe is…
’ I swallow harder than I meant to. I might love decorating for Christmas, but there’s a vast difference between being part of a team installing window displays and the sole responsibility for decorating an entire castle.
I have no idea how many rooms there are, or what decorations he has or if things will need to be ordered in, but at the same time, this is a dream of a job.
I can’t imagine a more magical way to spend the festive season.
‘…doable.’ I finish the sentence what seems like hours after I started it, with very little clue whether it is doable or not.
‘Sorry, the job advert was purposely vague in case it somehow got back to my bosses that I was hiring a decorator.’
‘Are your bosses not allowed to know that?’
‘No. They’re supposed to think I’m a multi-talented multitasker who can manage investments by day and decorate with flair and nuance by night, while showering my fictional wife with affection and being a wonderful father to my two non-existent children.
Or perhaps that we decorate the castle together before snuggling in front of the fire to eat toasted marshmallows and make gingerbread houses or whatever it is that happy families do at this time of year.
A film-worthy Christmas, Miss Haines. No one ever questions how it all gets done or how the main character affords it, it’s just… ’
‘Christmas magic?’
‘Exactly. This needs to be the most magical Christmas any of them have ever had, better than the five-star resorts they usually go to, and I need to make it look effortless. Your job is visual merchandising, and I need to visually merchandise myself, my non-existent family, and my home. I need them to see the castle and realise I’m a reliable family man who can be trusted to start up a new branch of their firm. Is that doable?’
‘Anything’s possible at Christmas.’
He nods in a sceptical way, but I feel like I’m vibrating inside with excitement.
How could I get this lucky? To lose my job and feel the pull to do something different, and then for this to fall into my lap.
All the times I’ve felt unlucky in my life, it’s surely because the universe was saving up all of my luck for this one moment.
‘We’re on the Kintyre peninsula, right down on the Mull, really remot—’
‘Like the song?’ I cut him off without meaning to when I realise what he’s saying.
This castle is on the Mull of Kintyre? The world-famous Christmas song of the 1970s, from Paul McCartney’s post-Beatles era.
One of my mum’s favourite songs while I was growing up.
A song I’ve heard so many times that I could sing it backwards.
I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland and promised myself that one day, when I can afford to travel, I’ll go there to see the mists on the sea and the green valleys that Paul sings about.
He laughs, an indulgent laugh that sounds like he’s never met a person who hasn’t mentioned the song, but the vibration of excitement inside me is getting stronger.
It’s another nod from the universe and I can’t shake the feeling that this job was meant for me.
I was crushed yesterday, but it suddenly feels like I lost my job at exactly the right time to make way for this.
‘And the wife thing?’ I voice the only thing that’s tempering my excitement.
‘I apologise, I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s such a stup—’
‘What if I was to agree?’
‘Then I’d be very grateful.’ He does that nervous-embarrassed laugh again, the one that’s incredibly endearing.
‘I know this is weird, but no funny business, I promise. You’ll have your own room, your own bathroom, your own space.
You’ll barely even see me because I’m always at work.
The only thing you need to do is exist, and let my bosses believe we’ve been married for five years and have two children. ’
I think about it again, like I haven’t been turning it over in my mind since the moment he said it. A chance to get out of London. Exactly what I wanted. The money would give me a buffer when I get back.
That kind of lump sum for a month’s work would mean not having to worry about the rent and bills for a while.
It would mean not having to give up and move somewhere more affordable.
I would have time to find a job where I’m valued and appreciated, and maybe even start saving for a deposit on somewhere of my own and get out of Mira’s spare room…
One month of decorating and perpetuating a little white lie, and I could be back here in January and start the new year off right.
‘And a reference?’ I ask hopefully.
‘Of course.’ He smiles like he understands exactly why that part is so important.