Cupcakes and Christmas: The Carrington’s Collection: Cupcakes at Carrington’s, Me and Mr. Carrington, Christmas at Carrington’s

by Alexandra Brown

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Well, do you fancy a drink?’ I head over to the mini-bar, thinking I could certainly do with one. And then blush when I remember that it’s barely breakfast time.

  ‘God no, bit early for me – my liver feels as though it might pack up at any moment. The shots in that karaoke bar were lethal,’ he groans. ‘A glass of water would be good though.’ I nod and pour him a generous glassful, my hands still trembling slightly.

  ‘Can I use your phone to call Melissa?’

  ‘Sure.’ I hand him my mobile, and a few seconds later he tells Melissa to get herself along to my room immediately. I make my way over to one of the armchairs and Ciaran follows.

  ‘You OK? You look really rattled,’ he says, flopping down in the seat beside me.

  ‘Me? Yes, yes, I’m fine thanks,’ I say, airily.

  ‘You sure? Only you look kind of distracted.’ He frowns. I nod, pulling my thumb away from my clenched teeth and force a smile onto my face. ‘So how’s it going with the revamp?’ he asks, tactfully changing the subject.

  ‘Oh, don’t remind me,’ I reply, glancing at the adjoining door to make sure it’s definitely closed.

  ‘That bad eh?’ Before I can answer, there’s a timid tap at the door. Lauren is standing in the corridor looking very nervous when I answer it.

  ‘I’ve got Ciaran’s stuff,’ she says, tentatively, clutching a bundle of clothes.

  ‘Well, you’d better come in then.’

  ‘I’m really sorry, Ciaran, it was just meant as a joke,’ Lauren pleads, as he makes his way over towards her.

  ‘Who put you up to it?’ Ciaran asks, trying to sound serious.

  ‘Um,’ she replies, but hesitates for too long, and then the flicker of her eyes indicates she’s not alone. I pop my head out through the doorway and see Melissa and various other male colleagues skulking halfway down the corridor.

  ‘You’re for it now.’ I wag a finger at Melissa, as Ciaran pushes past me to get to her.

  ‘Oh, come on, it was only a laugh. A leg-pull for the wedding boy, that’s all,’ she says, adopting a pretend Kung Fu stance, but Ciaran is too quick and tips the glass of water over her head. Melissa shakes herself down like a wet dog.

  ‘We need a picture, where’s your phone?’ Ciaran yells at me, and I race back into the room to retrieve it.

  ‘Let me take one of you all,’ Lauren offers. So I jump over next to Melissa, Ciaran quickly follows, and we both stick up V signs above her head.

  ‘Thanks.’ I take my phone back and scan the crowd. ‘Where’s Eddie?’ I ask Lauren.

  ‘Oh, he went home. Said he didn’t feel well. Tom went with him.’ My heart sinks at this revelation. So Tom has gone then. Talk about love them and leave them – he obviously couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

  27

  There’s a ‘morning after the weekend before’ silence when I arrive at work. Somebody has cranked the music up and ‘Love Is All Around’ is playing on a continuous loop, driving me round the twist, as Mrs Grace would say. And there’s still half an hour to go until opening time.

  I do a quick scan towards Tom’s Fine Jewellery counter and feel relieved on seeing it’s empty, but then irritated by the sight of the limited edition Valentine bottles of pink champagne he’s got piled up to flog too. Since when did Carrington’s sell alcohol? And I bet he’s got a bottle or two stashed away to share with Maxine on Valentine’s Day. She was obviously lying about being single.

  I reach my counter, tweak the Valentine promotion board into place, just about manage to fling my bag in the locker when Tina appears. She’s wearing a headband with a pair of flashing red hearts bouncing around on springs above her head, and clutching a batch of white forms that she starts dishing out.

  ‘Thanks, what is it?’ I ask, when she tosses one down on top of the cocktail rings, narrowly missing Annie’s strategically arranged miniature Cupid soft toy display. A fiver with every purchase, and they say, ‘I love you’ when you press the left paw, although Annie found one the other day that sounded more like ‘I loathe you’. We think the battery must be dying … and I know the feeling. With her free arm on her hip and a bored look on her face, Tina eyes me up and down.

  ‘Take a look and see,’ she says with a curt smile. Then she flicks out her ponytail, and grins as if we’re actually real friends. ‘Can’t wait until Sunday,’ she quickly adds, in an extra loud voice. I stare at her blankly, wondering what she’s going on about. ‘My hen party. Oh, don’t tell me you’d forgotten?’ She treats me to her crazy cow smile. I groan inwardly, thinking: don’t remind me. ‘Can’t wait to catch up,’ she trills, as she stalks off to hand out the rest of the forms. I grab the form and see that it says ‘Diversity Awareness Survey’ across the top.

  ‘Can I have everyone’s attention please? If you could huddle around me. Chop chop.’ She claps her hands. ‘Come on, nearly opening time.’ Tina’s voice is bristling with efficiency. We all look up. ‘Recently I’ve witnessed some very disappointing behaviour towards our customers from overseas that quite frankly could land us in very hot water indeed. As a responsible employee –’ a little round of sniggers circulates – ‘I took my concerns to Amy, the HR manager, and let me tell you … she was horrified! So, she asked me to make sure these forms are completed straight away.’ She waves the pile of leftover documents in the air. So that’s what she was busy scribbling about in her notebook. I smile inwardly, wondering when she’s going to start heeding her own warning about tolerance towards others, as she sure as hell won’t even tolerate me talking to or tweeting Ciaran.

  There’s a groan from the guys in Menswear as they flip open the forms marked ‘Strictly Confidential’ at the bottom of each page.

  ‘And the document can also be found on the Carrington’s web page on the HR shared drive if any of you wants to complete it online and do your bit for the environment.’ She smiles, looking very pleased with herself for being so forward-thinking.

  ‘Wouldn’t it have been better not to have printed any at all in that case?’ Melissa points out. ‘And it says to insert a cross if completing the form electronically and use a black pen if writing the answers,’ Melissa adds with a wicked glint in her eyes. ‘So what do I do with the pen then?’ There’s silence as we all wait for the punch line. ‘Whatever you want,’ Tina steps in. ‘Even you can work that one out.’ She looks as though she might be regretting her overzealousness now.

  I busy myself with completing the form. I don’t like Tina but I don’t want to upset her either, not when she holds the key to my commission payments. Everyone flicks through the form, a couple of Home Electrical guys pause on the section about criminal convictions, and after debating whether a caution for a drive-by gobbing incident counts, they move on to the sexual orientation section.

  Having delivered the forms,Tina stalks off, the flashing red hearts bouncing wildly and her denim wedge slingbacks slapping furiously as she gathers speed. With almost comedic timing, she catches her pocket on the outstretched hand of the Missoni mannequin, yanking it free as she flounces from the floor.

  Show over, I’m crouching down to retrieve my phone when Maxine suddenly appears from behind me. ‘Hi there.’

  The smile immediately slips from my face and, after flinging the phone back into my bag, I jump up so that for once I’m operating from the same level as her.

  ‘Oh Maxine, I didn’t see you there. How are you?’

  Ignoring my question she says, ‘How was the team-building event?’ and then stares at me blankly while waiting for my answer.

  ‘Err, yes, you know how these things are,’ I say, smarting from her directness and conscious that my cheeks are threatening a blush. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the others all pretending to be busy, but I know they’re listening intently.

  ‘No. Not really. I heard that it was, let me see, what was it that Tom said? Oh, predictable, yes that’s it.’ Predictable? What’s that supposed to mean? God, I hope he’s no
t referring to me. ‘Anyway, I won’t keep you, I have some visual merchandising to attend to.’ She does her pageant smile before breezing off towards Tom’s Fine Jewellery section.

  ‘Of course, and I’m straight on it,’ I mutter, grabbing the earring display and straightening the price tags. I gulp, wondering what else Tom told her. Surely he wouldn’t have said anything about the kiss. And then it dawns on me – predictable. Of course, he’s used to getting any girl he wants and I was no different.

  My face flushes hot at the possibilities of his implication. He reeled me in just like some grateful groupie.

  Mortified, I make my way over to the DKNY display. On my way back I spot James coming through the fire door. I feel a pang of guilt. I waver for a moment, but then decide I have to put this right.

  ‘James, please can I talk to you?’ He looks at me, but doesn’t reply for a few seconds, as if hesitating over his decision. I look back at him, pleading with my eyes.

  ‘OK, but let’s make it quick,’ he eventually agrees, and I sense the prompt for speed is his way of staying in charge. We dip into the corridor.

  ‘James, I’m truly sorry for what I did.’ He stares at me, studying my face as if he’s trying to work out if I mean it.

  ‘Look, like I said, I’m just not ready,’ he says, putting his palms up in protest. He turns to leave.

  ‘James, please. I’ve been a rotten friend, I know. But please, hear me out, let me try and make it up to you.’ He stops and I notice his shoulders soften, and then to my surprise he turns around and smiles at me.

  ‘Sure. No harm in talking. But not here, what time’s your break?’

  ‘Ten thirty.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll meet you in the café upstairs.’

  *

  When I arrive in the café, Sam nods towards the booth in the far corner before holding up crossed fingers and mouthing ‘good luck’. James is sitting with his back to the café. He motions for me to sit opposite him, presumably so there’s less chance of us being spotted together.

  ‘James, I know I ruined things between us, but I hate it that we’re not even talking. Before –’ I hesitate, picking my words carefully – ‘everything changed, we were good friends, weren’t we?’ He looks at me; his face gives nothing away. Mentally, I will him to go with me.

  ‘I know. And I’m sorry how things have turned out between us.’ My heart lifts. At last! We’re talking, and on the same wavelength.

  ‘Me too. But I was hoping that we might at least be friends again. Maybe even work together to scupper Maxine and Tom,’ I say, optimistically, thinking how lovely it would be if I was back in favour with him.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asks, his forehead crinkling into a frown.

  ‘Well, I don’t think Maxine’s makeover is being conducted fairly.’ I stare at him, trying to gauge his thoughts.

  ‘But what makes you think that?’ He looks at me intently.

  ‘Because they’re having an affair. I’ve seen them together, arm in arm. And Eddie spotted them too, actually snogging.’

  He ponders this for a while and then lets out a long whistle.

  ‘So that’s her game then.’ His jaw tightens.

  ‘You think so too, that they’re up to something then?’ I feel relieved I’m not the only one who believes something dodgy is going on. It’s hard to think straight these days. James nods and reaches for his coffee.

  ‘I knew it. I just knew it. What an idiot I’ve been.’ He shoves a hand through his hair.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She’s been playing us both.’ Ha! A little feeling of satisfaction waves through me. I was right about her and Tom all along. I can’t believe I ruined everything with James. Kind, decent James. What was I thinking? Men like Tom don’t go for women like me. I should have known I’d be just a conquest, at best.

  ‘Georgie, I’m so sorry.’ James looks over at me, his eyes full of concern now. My heart drops.

  ‘What for?’ The feeling of satisfaction withers and I feel uneasy now. I’m not sure I want to hear his apology if it’s something to do with him and Maxine.

  ‘Malikov.’

  ‘Oh, don’t remind me, please. And you don’t need to apologise, I was the one in the wrong. I should have made sure I updated you straight away,’ I say, grateful Maxine hasn’t lured him into bed again.

  ‘But I overreacted. And I said some unforgivable things to you.’ He pulls his eyes away from mine.

  ‘It’s understandable. After everything you’ve been through,’ I say, concerned that he seems to be blaming himself, when it was all my fault.

  ‘No, please hear me out. When Maxine went through my sales sheet she accused me of stealing Malikov from you. Wouldn’t have it that I organised his original visit and we had shared the commission. And then when she accused me of dirty tricks, I guess I just saw red.’

  ‘Oh James, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I know you are, Georgie, but there’s something else I want you to know.’ My heart starts beating harder and my palms feel hot. I brace myself for what he’s going to say next. ‘I’m really sorry for what I said … the stupid Valentine’s present thing and comparing you to your dad.’

  ‘But how did you know in the first place?’ I ask, bracing myself for his answer.

  ‘Oh, I’ve always known,’ he says, casually. ‘Can’t remember how. It was in all the papers years ago, wasn’t it, and I think I just twigged, but it’s no reflection on you. I like to take people as I find them – it was just an easy insult to hurl. I’m sorry, really, I am.’

  Relief floods through me, quickly followed by sadness that I ever doubted him. He knew all along and never judged me. That’s pretty amazing.

  ‘James, I overreacted too.’ His eyes lock onto mine. For a moment neither of us says anything.

  ‘You know, she’s been at me ever since she came here,’ James says, wearily. ‘Even implied that I can keep my job … if I sleep with her.’

  I’m stunned.

  I don’t want to hear any more about him and her, and then I remember Tom and what happened between us and I feel like such a hypocrite. So she’s been manipulating James all along. And so much for her female solidarity then, telling me ‘us girls need to stick together’.

  ‘What shall we do?’ he asks, his voice sounding hollow. I ponder on the situation before replying.

  ‘Well, we’ll both work hard on selling as much as we can, and may the best man, or indeed woman, win.’ I grin. ‘If our sales figures are higher than Tom’s – well, then she just can’t sack us and keep him on, can she? That would be so obvious; the board would never let her do that, would they?’ I feel triumphant, and pleased that James and I seem to be friends again. But then I suddenly remember what Maxine told me in my first meeting with her, and my heart plummets. ‘Hang on a minute. That’s not going to work, unless our sections make exactly the same amount of money, which is pretty impossible to guarantee. One of us will be deemed a loser and she’s already told me she doesn’t do “losers”,’ I say, despondently, making a feeble ‘L for loser’ sign like she did. ‘No, we need to get more information on what’s really going on, get some proof,’ I add, sounding conspiratorial. We both look at each other for inspiration, and then a few seconds later we come to the same conclusion, at precisely the same moment.

  ‘Eddie!’

  James pulls out his mobile. There’s a brief silence before Eddie answers.

  ‘Ed. James here. Can you talk?’ James pulls his mobile back from his ear and leans into me so I can hear too.

  ‘Briefly. Maxine, or “Cruella De V-i-l-e”, as I’ve renamed her, is in the kitchenette … purring to a phone sex client, no doubt,’ Eddie hisses, and I giggle.

  ‘Well, how would you like to get your own back on her?’ James glances at me, a grin forming on his face. My heart pounds; it’s fantastic that he doesn’t think badly of me any more.

  ‘I’m listening …’ Eddie says slowly, his voice perking up.

 
‘I’ve got Georgie here with me.’ James smiles at me, and I instantly feel happier, glad I made the effort to make things right between us.

  ‘Hello,’ I say, into the phone.

  ‘Hi girlfrieeend.’ I laugh.

  ‘We’re in the café,’ James tells him.

  ‘I’m there.’ And before James can say any more, the line goes dead.

  A few minutes later, Eddie appears. He throws himself into the booth next to me.

  ‘Got here as fast as my little trotters could carry me,’ he pants. James and I laugh at the state of him. Eddie looks as though he’s practically launched himself down from upstairs. His face is flushed and he can hardly breathe, he’s that eager to get one over Maxine. We quickly bring him up to speed, telling him about the mind games she’s been playing with each of us.

  ‘And she’s having an affair with Tom,’ I end. Eddie throws me a confused look, but I know my secret is safe. Then he flings his hand up theatrically and quickly gasps in horror.

  ‘Weell. Calm now, children. I can raise you on that one.’ A cheeky smile unfolds across Eddie’s lips. He flings one leg over the other and, after leaning forward, he rubs his hands together, savouring the anticipation. James and I stare at him. ‘Oh yes, Madam Fifi is having an affair all right.’ He pauses to look at each of us in turn. I can feel my cheeks burning – so Tom was just playing with me after all. This confirms it. I allow the last little drop of hope, that our moment of intimacy was something more, to trickle away. ‘… But it’s not with Tom.’

  Whaat! My heart feels as though it’s going to burst right out of my chest.

  ‘But you saw them snogging,’ I gasp, ‘and I saw them with my own eyes, in the corridor. And he phoned her. On a Sunday. Why would he do that?’

  ‘Who with, then?’ It’s James who asks.

  After a furtive look around the café, Eddie whispers, ‘Only …’ His eyes dart from side to side. ‘… The Heff.’

  ‘Walter?’ James and I say together in disbelief. There’s a stunned silence. I can’t believe it.