by Jenni Keer
‘It’s not all down to me. I think the three of us are heading in the same direction, even if Theo and I occasionally bicker about the best way to get there.’ She’d been given the job at a pivotal point in the company’s evolution. Johnny and Theo were expanding and had the funds to do so. The planned café and insulation of the barns were in motion long before she’d arrived.
‘And how are you two meandering along now, dah-ling? I know you’ve had some vexatious moments, but I do so want two of my favourite Gildersleeve’s colleagues to adore each other as much as I adore each of them in their turn.’
Maisie felt a glow in her chest. These past few months she’d grown particularly fond of Johnny – who was always supportive and full of praise for her work. It was nice to know he felt the same.
‘We’re good. He’s a genuinely likeable person.’
Johnny smiled and gave a happy sigh. ‘Most excellent news. Now to more pressing matters. I fear we need to instigate an expeditious plan.’ He jerked his thoughts back to the immediate crisis. ‘An impromptu staff meeting in five minutes, to show this fellow what the Gildersleeve’s establishment is made of …’
The morning proved to be, as Johnny later put it, ‘triumphant’. The researcher seemed impressed with the venue, commenting on its quirkiness. From her own marketing background, she knew he was coming from the same place as her. Its rural charm, the eclectic staff and the haphazard nature of it all made for an interesting and appealing mix. Johnny, Theo and Maisie gathered in their dim back office after the researcher had left.
‘He was worried about refreshment facilities for his team but I said the building work for the café was nearly completed,’ Theo said.
‘But that’s just the structure. How about the interior décor? The equipment? The staff?’ Maisie squeaked. ‘We’re not exactly “good to go”.’
‘Stop getting your knickers in an unnecessary twist.’ Theo gave Maisie his wonky smile. ‘We’ll put you on the case and it’ll be fine. Organisation is one of your strengths.’
‘A great man once said, “Beware the flatterer, for he invariably wants something he is not capable of achieving himself,”’ Johnny said, scooting across the office on his wheely chair as he gathered some papers together.
‘Churchill? Wilde?’ Maisie ventured.
‘Gildersleeve.’ Johnny’s unruly eyebrows bounced up and down his forehead.
‘I don’t know why you two are stressing. They loved the place. And anyway, it’s hardly like they’re turning up tomorrow.’
‘When are they hoping to start filming exactly?’ Maisie asked.
‘July.’
‘That’s less than six weeks away. Honestly, Theo, I despair of you.’ She thwacked him with her ruler.
‘I’m efficiency and organisation personified,’ Theo said, as a pile of reference books on his desk chose that moment to topple to the floor with a thud.
‘Dah-ling Theodore,’ Johnny said, ‘you really are most vexatious at times. Endearing but vexatious.’
That weekend, Maisie and Lisa had a sisterly breakthrough. It was brief but it was fun. Midway through a second shared bottle of wine, Lisa persuaded her sister to play an impromptu game of charades using some app on her phone that flashed up a variety of film, book and TV suggestions. Lisa was a natural with her dramatic leanings but Maisie soon got into the swing of it. Lisa’s Chitty Chitty Bang Bang had Maisie in stitches and she realised a good belly laugh had been woefully overdue.
‘How come you are so good at this game?’ Maisie asked, reaching for the Prosecco.
‘I watch a lot of … I move in these circles, remember?’ Lisa said, handing Maisie her phone with the next charade. Maisie pressed the screen and ‘Rapunzel’ appeared. Her heart sank as she wondered how she was going to approach this one – she couldn’t even do a sounds like.
‘So, what are you working on at the moment?’ she asked, keen to engage and mindful her sister had chastised her for focusing more on the housework than their relationship.
‘This and that. Can’t talk about it. You know how it is?’ Lisa was always evasive about her life unless it was a topic she wanted to talk about. Maisie could almost feel the shutters being pulled closed.
‘And this man who’s bothering you?’ Maisie asked, hoping to draw her sister out.
‘Not tonight, Maisie.’ Lisa began biting her nails but realising it would spoil the manicure she let her fingers drop. ‘But thanks,’ she finished.
‘For what?’
‘For letting me crash. For caring enough to ask. And for putting up with all my crap over the years.’
‘No one is perfect and everyone has redeeming features. We all know Dad’s moral compass is glitchy, especially in the monogamy region, but look how he’s supported us all over the years, financially and emotionally, without question.’
Lisa glanced at the pile of shopping bags and sighed. ‘Yeah, Mum was the one who suffered there. I guess we didn’t do so badly from the split.’
‘And Ben pretends not to care about anyone but himself but he truly does – underneath everything. He notices the little things and they bother him, even if he doesn’t have the social skills to deal with them.’ Maisie topped up both glasses and sunk back into the sofa, feeling more relaxed than she had a right to be, considering the state of the carpet.
Lisa thought about this for a moment and frowned as she cast her mind back. ‘When I moved out with Biker Boy, Ben used to cycle up and down that damn road about twenty times a day – especially in the beginning. I’d forgotten that. At the time I thought he was just being a pain in the arse but perhaps he was looking out for me.’
‘See? And I know I’m full-on with my Little Miss Tidy freak-outs, but I’ve been told my Christmas presents are the best.’ She smiled and Lisa raised her glass.
‘Cheers to that. You’re the best of the bunch. I honestly expected you to be a little brat when you were born but you never were. Always tucked in a corner of the room, just getting on with things. I guess you were just outnumbered.’
‘You weren’t so bad yourself,’ Maisie insisted, wondering what positive example she could cite to make Lisa feel good about the past. ‘You, um … well, you …’
They exchanged a look – a long look where they both reflected on Lisa’s history. Maisie narrowed her eyes as she searched for an example. The pause stretched out like an empty highway and they both started giggling all over again.
Chapter 37
The following Thursday late-night viewing, Oliver made a second visit to the auction house. He looked exceptionally smart in his charcoal-grey work suit and greeted her with another lung-squashing hug. Now the evenings were lighter, it didn’t feel such a long day when Maisie worked late, especially with surprise visits from a beloved brother-in-law to lift her spirits.
‘You liked the tie then?’ Maisie asked. It had been Oliver’s birthday the previous week and she’d stopped by to see his new flat with Zoe and drop off a couple of gifts. Maisie bought presents when she saw things she knew the recipient would like and never left shopping until the last minute. The silk tie had been purchased in the January sale and was accountant-appropriate as it was covered in pictures of fifty-pound notes.
‘Unfortunately, dealing with everyone else’s millions doesn’t mean I have bundles of my own stashed away. I fear this is the closest I’ll ever get.’
‘You’re welcome to come back for a drink later,’ she offered but Oliver shook his head.
‘Not if Lisa’s still crashing. She scares the hell out of me.’ Oliver actively avoided Lisa and Maisie couldn’t blame him. Despite their minor breakthrough, Maisie still found her scary.
Arthur ambled by. He always had a smile on his face, she noticed, even when he was on his own.
‘This is my friend Arthur,’ Maisie said, introducing Arthur to Oliver. ‘He’s our head porter. And this is Oliver – a very good friend of mine.’
‘Very, very good friend,’ said Oliver, stressing the second
very and wiggling his eyebrows.
‘Right you are, sir. Well, she’s a special girl, our Maisie. Mind you take great care of her …’ Arthur’s smile wobbled but he managed to stop it falling from his face altogether.
‘I always have.’ Oliver grinned, putting a large arm around Maisie’s shoulders and pulling her in tight. ‘Isn’t that right, Titch?’
Uncomfortable that Oliver’s familiarity with her might be mistaken for something more, she wriggled free and cast her eyes about the barn. She didn’t want Theo witnessing the hug.
‘As lovely as it is to meet your nice young man—’
‘He’s not my—’
‘I actually came over to let you know that Ella’s on her own in the front office,’ Arthur said. ‘I’d offer to help her out but as you know I’m not very good on them computer things, and the poor love always acts a bit awkward around me. Not sure she appreciates a boring old man chatting away. She’s a quiet one and I don’t like silences so I always fill them with rambling nonsense. Perhaps you could nip over for a bit? Or I could ask Johnny?’
‘I’m happy to help her through the rush, although I’m not sure she’s any more enamoured with me than she is with you, Arthur.’ She made her excuses to Oliver and headed over.
‘Would you like a hand?’ Maisie asked, peering round the front office door.
‘Um, actually, yeah.’
‘I’ll issue the bidder numbers, if you input all the information?’ Maisie offered, knowing full well Ella would prefer not to deal with the public. She seemed more comfortable since Theo had moved her desk but not everyone was a natural with people and Maisie understood that.
‘Um, thanks,’ Ella said, vacating the reception chair.
There was a rush of customers, including Oliver leaving a bid on two kitchen chairs and a TV cabinet, but it calmed down in the last hour. With the office quieter Maisie tried to strike up a conversation with Ella.
‘That’s a pretty dress,’ she ventured. ‘Boden?’
Ella blushed and looked down at the olive and cream linen smock dress she was wearing.
‘Yes. Thank you.’
There was a pause. ‘Going somewhere nice after you finish here?’
‘Oh, I’m not a very sociable person.’ Dragging her for an impromptu after work drink wasn’t going to work then. Ella’s head was down again, and her fingers bashed away at the keys in a nervous blur.
After a few moments, Maisie tried again. ‘I know it’s none of my business, but what do you do with the chairs you buy?’ It was her last attempt to engage her colleague. She’d made it clear she wasn’t sociable, so bombarding her with questions wasn’t her best approach.
‘I sell them,’ she answered. It was a whispered response and, intrigued as she was, Maisie decided to leave the poor girl alone. Even she knew when it was time to quit.
Maisie prepared to head back over to the salerooms now reception was empty but was surprised to look up and find Ella at her side, pushing a mobile phone in front of her face. On the screen was a beautiful Nineteen-Forties wood armchair upholstered in a bright fabric of purple and yellow flowers.
‘Wow. That’s beautiful. I love the pattern.’
‘They’re crocuses. My design.’ There was a tiny smile from Ella.
‘You designed the fabric?’
She nodded. ‘It’s easy; there are lots of companies that print fabrics to order. You upload your design to their website, choose your repeat and then select the size and type of material. I use a polyester canvas for the chairs – it’s more durable and easier to clean than cotton.’
‘You’ve done more than one?’
‘Erm, yeah, I’ve done about six now. Each chair goes for about four hundred.’ She swiped her phone and another chair appeared – this time pale yellow and tangerine coloured tulips in a smaller repeating pattern. ‘Keep swiping left,’ Ella urged, moving from foot to foot, her arms hanging limply by her sides. And then she looked down at her shoes as Maisie flicked through several shots of stunning pre-loved but totally transformed chairs – a dramatic aqua blue chair covered in starfish catching her eye.
‘Sometimes I make commission when other people buy my fabric designs. It’s not a fortune but enough to make it worthwhile. It’s why I prefer the older wooden-armed chairs – less fabric, less cost, more profit.’
‘Honestly, Ella, these are amazing.’ As someone with an eye for colour and design, she appreciated Ella’s fabrics were brilliantly executed and highly original. ‘I had no idea people could get their own patterns printed up. Don’t you have to order roll-fulls?’
‘No, it’s by the metre, although I always order a sample piece first to check I’m happy with it.’
‘You certainly have a talent for it.’
Ella looked up from the floor. ‘Um, thanks. I grew up by the sea and particularly loved painting nature when I was younger: seascapes, flowers, seashells … I’ve always enjoyed drawing.’
‘Me too. Or rather, I love the idea of drawing but my still life isn’t up to much. Quite enjoy splashing a bit of paint around though.’
‘There’s a still-life class starting at the community centre soon,’ Ella said, dropping her eyes again. ‘Um, I might go. The teacher is someone I knew at school. He’s rather …’ She dropped her head again.
‘Hot?’ Maisie said flippantly and then, looking at the panic in Ella’s eyes, realised she was right.
‘I was going to say talented. Do you think you might like to come along with me? Don’t feel obliged or anything …’
‘Ooh, yes please,’ Maisie said. ‘My art teacher at school always said I needed to focus on my line, shadow and form – her way of saying she didn’t recognise a damn thing I drew.’ Ella smiled at her and Maisie wheeled the office chair backwards to face her. ‘It’s why I veered into graphics and marketing – I get to manipulate other people’s images. Never could master a nose.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘So how did the upholstery come about?’
‘I did an evening course a couple of years ago because I wanted to restore a special but somewhat battered armchair from my childhood. Arthur mentioned that these older chairs often went for next to nothing because of the dated fabric, and I’d so enjoyed designing the fabric for my own chair, I thought perhaps I could make some money restoring them. If the framework is sound and they predate the fire regulations, I bid for them. Arthur even introduced me to the woman who I sell through. He’s a very thoughtful man.’
He was, Maisie acknowledged, and she could see what Theo had been getting at when he said not to underestimate Arthur’s strengths.
‘But I, um, don’t always know what to say to him. He’s quite … wordy.’
‘To be honest, I think if you can stop and give him some of your time, you’ll find you have to say very little at all.’
The two girls exchanged another smile. It was a start and a positive one. Perhaps Ella would open up to her a bit more now. At the very least it had given her the encouragement she needed to pursue a friendship. And Ella could draw – really draw – a useful friend to have if she was ever to refine her daubings.
With her colleague promising to let her know further details about the art class, Maisie headed back to Saleroom Two. She scanned the barn for Theo, wanting to let him know she’d had a breakthrough with Ella. He was at the back, behind the glass cabinet, so she made her way over. But when she was almost there, an unwelcome figure caught her eye. He was walking up the centre of the barn and made her heart rate triple.
It was Gareth. And he was with the willowy, treacherous girl from HR.
Chapter 38
Gareth did a double take when he noticed Maisie. He stopped to say something to his companion, who scuttled off in the other direction.
For a moment all Maisie could think of was his face stuck to Twig-Girl’s and it wasn’t a pleasant thought. She put out an arm to steady herself on the glass cabinet and briefly closed her eyes.
‘Are you okay?’ Theo asked, sliding a tray of watch
es out so a gentleman could look at the vintage diver’s watch. The interested party picked it up and began to inspect it through a small folding magnifier.
‘Yeah, someone I know,’ she said, dropping her eyes to the concrete floor.
‘But who you aren’t particularly pleased to see, I’m guessing?’
Gareth’s face was all smiles as he came striding towards her with a familiar bounce. Theo edged away slightly but his body remained tilted towards Maisie’s as he returned his attentions to the man’s question about the damaged bezel.
‘Maisie, how fabulous to see you. What are you up to now?’ Because she was standing at the end of the cabinet, it wasn’t obvious she was staff. ‘I know you didn’t move to any of our rivals – I checked. You went totally off radar.’
How had she ever found this man attractive? That wasn’t a smile, it was a smirk.
‘I work here,’ she said. ‘I’m head of marketing now.’ Head as in the only member of the marketing team but she prayed Theo wouldn’t feel the need to point that out.
‘Here?’ He looked confused. ‘Bit of a tinpot outfit. You should be in a bigger organisation; a national concern, somewhere you can shine and climb the career ladder. Truth is, we’ve really missed you at work. The new lad isn’t anywhere near as competent as you – doesn’t know his curly speech marks from his feet and inches and you know how that bugs me. Won’t you consider coming back? We can be grown-up about the whole thing.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Maisie said, smiling sweetly and feeling in control of the whole Gareth situation for the first time.
Gareth leaned in a bit closer and lowered his voice. ‘I can give you a pay rise. Seriously, you were bloody good. I’ll match whatever you’re getting here, plus ten per cent.’ What Gareth didn’t know was that her salary here was substantially less than at Wickerman’s but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
Theo, only half a metre away, returned the tray to the cabinet. He froze for a fraction of a second.