Chapter 4 #4
‘A credit card for you to use for any decorations or decorating paraphernalia you deem necessary. The decorations we have here haven’t seen the light of day in many years, so there’s bound to be a lot of stuff you need to get in.
The details are on there for ordering online, the PIN is there for anything you need to buy in shops.
Charge anything you need for the castle to it.
’ His warm fingers brush against my freezing ones as I take it from him.
‘I meant what I said yesterday – the castle needs to look like a place where dreams are made. It needs to feel like a warm and welcoming family home. We need to give these people the best Christmas they’ve ever imagined.
No expense spared. If I get the promotion, I’ll be able to pay it off. ’
‘And if you don’t?’
‘Then I’ll pay a load of interest on the balance and pay it off eventually.’
‘No pressure then,’ I say with an awkward laugh given the amount of pressure I suddenly feel. It strikes me that this is a very trusting thing to do. ‘I could charge a round-the-world yacht trip to this and skip the country.’
‘Aye, you could…’ He meets my eyes and there’s a spark in his. ‘But I don’t think you will.’
I grin. ‘I guess half the fun is in finding out.’
He laughs and pushes a hand through his hair, hovering at the side of the table awkwardly. ‘Look, I know this is all a bit mad, but I need to know you’re not going to call me a basketcase and walk out halfway through being my pretend wife.’
I think about it. This is definitely more than a bit mad, but I’m captivated by him and the castle, certainly enough to see how the heck we’re going to pull this off. ‘I’m not.’
‘A crackpot?’
I laugh and shake my head. ‘I’m committed.’
‘Committed,’ he repeats and holds his hand out and I shake it. ‘Or I soon will be.’
It makes me giggle again because I really am charmed by his self-deprecating sense of humour.
‘What about the kids?’ I ask when he goes back to his seat and flops down in it like he’s tired. ‘Are they up for this? Are they old enough to understand the task at hand?’
‘Bribery. Lots of bribery. I’ve promised them anything they want, so I’m currently on the hook for a Lamborghini and a pony.’
I let out a snort that makes me sound like a pony, although there’s every chance he’s being serious. ‘Haven’t your bosses ever expected to see photos?’
‘Oh, my family are all notoriously camera shy. I get my camera out and they just… whoosh. Run off in opposite directions. On my desk at work, there’s an AI-generated photo of the four of us sitting on a beach and looking out to sea, our backs to the camera so they can’t see our faces.
Although the AI-generated woman in the photo’s hair is longer than yours, so don’t forget to mention you’ve had a haircut. ’
I touch my shoulder-length dark hair self-consciously, wondering just how many lies he’s going to have to fill me in on.
‘We’ll be fine. No one’s going to come into someone’s house and say, “Are these really your children?” are they?’ He can obviously read the doubt on my face. ‘No one’s going to think we’re ridiculous enough to hire someone else’s children.’
‘No, that would be absurd.’
He laughs that nervous laugh again, and it really is impossible not to like him.
He’s got that air of being in way over his head, but an endearing determination to see it through, no matter how bizarre it gets, and I feel it filtering into me too.
His creativity with this scheme is truly impressive, and I’d be disappointed if I didn’t see it through to the bitter end now, no matter how bitter the end might be if these bosses see right through us.
‘Can I get you anything else?’ Ollie comes over to get my cup and plate and carries them across to the sink.
I shake my head, charmed by his attentiveness too.
‘Also, you live here now, so treat this place as your own. Nancy’s filled the cupboards with food, the fridge and freezer are stacked, help yourself to anything.
This is your home for the time being – and you need to act like it.
When these people come, they’re expecting you to have lived here for years, so find your way around.
Cook anything, eat anything, use anything.
There’s a utility room out the back there.
’ He points to a door off one side of the kitchen.
‘It’s literally part of the job to make yourself at home, so let’s get all of the awkward weirdness out of the way to start with, because in three weeks’ time, we need to act like we’ve been married for years. ’
I like the fact he addresses the awkwardness head on. This is a weird situation, and he’s right. No one’s going to believe that I live here if I keep looking around in awe and acting like he’s a stranger I’ve only just met.
He comes back across the long kitchen and holds a hand out towards the door.
‘Can I at least show you the rest of the house? I’m at work tomorrow, but Nancy will be in first thing, she can show you the way to the Christmas decorations.
Don’t worry about anything like that tonight, you’ve had a long day. ’
I get up and follow him back towards the kitchen door. ‘You sound like you have too.’
‘Me?’ He looks surprised as he steps aside and holds the door for me again. ‘I’ve just been in my office here. Prep for the week ahead. I’ve got a particularly difficult client meeting on Wednesday and I’m not very good at my job, so it takes a lot of forward-planning to pull it off.’
I glance at him as I walk past, feeling that increasingly familiar sense of intrigue.
I assume he’s being self-deprecating again, but between this and the ‘hate it’ comment he made earlier, I do start to wonder if there’s any truth in them.
Surely no one would go to such great lengths to save a job they really didn’t like?
‘One more thing…’ He rushes to catch up with me as we head back down the corridor. ‘Your name is Lucy.’
I laugh out loud as I stop to look at him. ‘I assure you it’s not.’
‘I’m sorry, Lula. I should’ve said something yesterday but I was worried you’d think you were getting in too deep. For the past five years, I’ve told them my wife’s name is Lucy, I can’t change it now.’
His lips are pressed together and there’s a look of genuine worry on his handsome face, like he thinks this will be the thing that pushes me over the edge into leaving.
I suppose I should have foreseen something like this – did I really expect him to have been pretending to be married for years without ever mentioning his hypothetical wife’s name?
‘Well, luckily, we have very similar names, so call me Lu. No one will ever know it’s not short for Lucy, and there won’t be any confusion with accidentally using the wrong name. From now on, make it Lu, always.’
He bows his head in agreement. ‘It was like a sign, I think, the similar names. I really didn’t intend to ask you yesterday, but when we spoke, it felt like everything slotted into place. Thank you for doing this, Lu.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Our eyes meet in the low light of the corridor and I feel a flutter of anticipation inside me, and I’m even more intrigued as to where that name came from…
Did he pluck it out of thin air or was Lucy a real person once?
And how does a guy like this have to pay someone to pretend to be his wife?
Unless he really is an axe murderer in disguise, the women of Scotland are seriously missing something here.
Even without the castle, Ollie Bracewell would be a catch.