Cupcakes and Christmas: The Carrington’s Collection: Cupcakes at Carrington’s, Me and Mr. Carrington, Christmas at Carrington’s (26 page)

‘We might as well get stuck in. My pedicure isn’t until four thirty,’ I tell her.

Sam tips the jug and a couple of pineapple chunks plop into the tumbler, followed by a generous measure of the magenta-coloured concoction.

‘Bottoms up.’ I chink my glass against the side of Sam’s.

‘Mmmm, not bad. Needs a bit of a kick though.’ Sam pulls out a small bottle of tequila from her pocket and we exchange a wicked look. ‘I thought I’d better bring some emergency rations, just in case,’ she explains, waving the bottle at me.

‘Good thinking,’ I say enthusiastically and, before I can protest, she tips a generous measure into my drink. I take a slug. The liquid, now with the added kick from the tequila, warms me as it trickles down into my stomach, and I instantly feel more relaxed.

‘A few more of these, and I think I might actually enjoy today after all,’ I breeze, feeling looser already.

‘That’s a girl. Get it down you.’ She pours me another generous tot. ‘It was nice of you to let Lauren have that bag, it must have been a wrench to pass it up.’

‘No, not really, I spend all day with bags like that,’ I smile. ‘I wanted her to have it. Anyway, let’s face it … she did rescue me from Tina’s inquisition about the team-building weekend.’

‘Yes, that was sooo funny when you told me about Ciaran being starkers in your bedroom.’

My vision is a little misty as I reach over to chink Sam’s glass again. She’s also on her way to tipsyland as she misjudges the distance between us and ends up toasting my arm instead.

‘Oops, better slow down.’ We glance at each other and giggle.

Suddenly, the door to one of the treatment rooms bursts open and Tina appears, clutching a towel to her naked body. Her face is covered in a fluorescent green face mask. She’s huffing like a mini Incredible Hulk revving up for a gigantic hissy fit. Caroline is standing behind her with a look of utter horror on her face. My lips freeze on the glass. Tina struts over towards us and positions herself squarely between the two steamer chairs. She throws a look of disgust at Sam before turning to me. I swallow. Tina opens her mouth, immediately closes it and then hesitates for a moment before opening it again.

‘Can you
purleease
keep the noise down. Your cackling is ruining my treatments. In fact, it’s probably best if you go, Georgina, you’re quite clearly not taking today seriously. And you are supposed to be on duty at the buffet table – that’s what I employed you to do,’ she snaps at Sam.

‘Sorry, we didn’t mea—’ But before Sam can finish her sentence, Tina turns and flounces back into the treatment room. Caroline turns to close the door behind her and mouths ‘sorry’ at us before shaking her head. Sam and I exchange furtive glances. ‘Come on. I think we’ve more than outstayed our welcome,’ Sam whispers, as we leg it back to the chill-out room.

‘
Y
ou OK?’ Sam asks, softly. After Tina’s outburst yesterday, Sam stayed behind on buffet duties, while I dashed out for a sobering chicken salad. I then headed home to catch up on my ironing and get an early night before work today. I asked Maxine if I could do some extra hours to improve my chances of being kept on, so it’s Monday afternoon and I’m on the phone in the vestibule behind my counter.

‘I’m fine. Relieved I managed to escape yesterday,’ I reply discreetly into the mouthpiece.

‘Lucky you. I was there until late, stuffing stupid vol-au-vents. I mean, who even likes those these days?’ Sam tuts. ‘Anyway, I have to know. What
was
Ciaran doing in your room, naked?’

‘Oh don’t ask, Melissa nicked his clothes while he was in the hot tub. It was a prank, that’s all.’ And then it dawns on me. ‘Oh my God. Do you think Tina heard me?’

‘It occurred to me later that she must have done – that’s why she came flying out of the room, not because we were laughing.’

‘So why didn’t she say anything then? You know how possessive she is.’ I feel uneasy. I cast a quick look around the near empty floor.

‘Maybe she’s over all that, now the wedding is so close,’ Sam says.

‘Mmmm, I’m not so sure. She hates me, always has. She’s up to something.’

‘Is she really that clever though?’

‘Remember what she said about my sales sheet? I wouldn’t put it past her to scrub stuff off so Maxine thinks I’m a crap sales assistant who can’t sell anything any more, just to get rid of me,’ I reply.

‘Now you’re just being paranoid. You know I overheard her bitching about Ciaran having to work through his lunch breaks and stay late all the time? Think she wanted me to hear. But he doesn’t, I certainly don’t make him.’

‘Really? Maybe he’s got another woman,’ I say, deviously.

‘If he’s got any sense,’ Sam replies. ‘Anyway, I’ve got a stock order and a VAT return to catch up on, so I’ve let the others go home early.’

‘OK. Good luck, yell if you need a hand,’ I say, knowing how Sam hates form-filling and anything maths-related.

‘Will do.’

‘And that business with her bags, well, just so you know, they’re fake. I had a peek at Lauren’s. The stitching was all wonky, a dead giveaway,’ I say.

‘What a scheming cow. You know, Ciaran thinks he forked out for the genuine article, so Tina has done very well out of her little scam. I’ve a good mind to tell him. That would shut her up,’ Sam rants.

‘The thing that gets me is how far she’s prepared to go to ensure she doesn’t lose out financially,’ I say, and then suddenly feel awkward, when I contemplate my own behaviour with the necklace. ‘But then I suppose I’m no better,’ I add, feebly.

‘What do you mean? You’re nothing like her,’ Sam says, indignantly.

‘Well, in my desperation to keep my job … let’s just say I’ve done some things I’m not proud of,’ I say, feeling ashamed all over again.

‘It’s hardly the same thing though, it’s work. A necessity. It’s not like you’re marrying somebody,
just for their money
.’

‘True. But what about the pact I’ve made with James? We’ve even roped in Eddie to make sure Maxine and Tom don’t get away with their scam.’

I used to pride myself on playing fair but that’s all changed now. I want to be the one who gets to sell Prada and Hermès because I’m the best sales assistant, not because Eddie manages to discredit Maxine and Tom.

‘But that’s different.’

‘How is it? It still all boils down to money. No, I’m no better than Tina, or Maxine and Tom come to think of it. God, I’ve even fallen for him knowing he was using me as part of his stupid game. So what does that make me?’

‘Normal? He’s drop-dead gorgeous. Your “crime”, if you must label it as such, was one of passion.’ Sam giggles. ‘So it doesn’t count anyway,’ she snorts.

‘Trust you to see it like that.’

‘Sorry hun, I have to go, a couple of guys in suits have just turned up. Probably reps from a coffee company, they’re always on at me to change brands. Let me get rid of them and we’ll chat later.’ Sam blows a squelchy mwah kiss down the phone before hanging up.

Plumping up a DKNY tote, I ponder on our conversation, wishing I could be as bubbly and positive about life and everything as Sam is. But I just can’t seem to shift this constant feeling of dread. If I could just get some sleep.

I wander back to my counter, click on the Carrington’s staff website and find what I’m looking for – a new initiative suggested by you-know-who – Tina of course! She’s started posting our sales sheets up for everyone to see. I scroll down and notice I’m still in the lead, but feel uneasy, as the difference between James and me, he’s next on the list, is the exact worth of the extra stuff Malikov bought. I console myself with knowing we at least seem to be friends again. But his angry outburst, comparing me to Dad, continues to niggle away inside. I think of Dad and it makes me feel ashamed that I’ve been so quick to judge him, not ever stopping to wonder what made him do what he did.

‘Penny for your thoughts, daydreamer.’ Ciaran appears at my counter and he looks exhausted. There are dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders are hunched. ‘You OK? How was the hen do?’

‘Oh, err … it was great,’ I say, vaguely. ‘How are you? You look really tired,’ I add, changing the subject and hoping Sam and I haven’t scuppered his chances of getting married, but then wondering whether we might in fact have done him a favour anyway. He leans against my counter.

‘Not too bad,’ he replies, his head bent down and eyes peering up at me. He looks as though he has the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

‘Before you say anything, I’m really sorry if we landed you in it.’

‘What do you mean?’ he says, frowning. So Tina hasn’t said anything then. Maybe she didn’t hear after all.

‘Oh, nothing. I just got my wires crossed, that’s all.’ No point in worrying him. ‘So how are the wedding plans coming along?’

‘I’m not really sure. Tina is in charge of it all.’ His shoulders droop and he looks sad. My heart goes out to him. Surely he could just call it off, if it’s this bad, I’ve never seen him look so miserable.

‘Ciaran,’ I say, hesitantly. ‘You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.’

‘I know.’ He picks at an imaginary loose thread on his trousers, his head hanging down again. ‘But you’ll be pleased to know that Tina has upgraded your invite to the whole do. Her way of burying the hatchet – she says you guys are getting quite friendly these days.’

‘Fab,’ I say, attempting to sound cheery, but remembering the handbag scam, I’m sure she fixed the numbers on purpose. I wonder what game is being played out now.

A sad smile threatens on his face. It’s as if he’s given up completely. My heart drops. I was hoping I’d be let off the hook or, better still, Ciaran would come to his senses and call the whole thing off. But no such luck. He looks at me as if he wants to say something else.

‘What is it, Ciaran?’ I say, gently touching his arm and wondering what I can do to make it better for him.

‘Not here,’ he says, casting a look around. He looks nervous now. ‘But I do need to talk to you. Can we get together tonight after work?’ He glances up at me with a strange look on his face.

‘Err, sure.’ I raise an eyebrow and wonder what’s up, but he shoves his hands in his pockets and wanders off. I click to open the sales chart again and see I’m no longer in the lead, James is. Surprisingly, I don’t feel panicky at all. Instead there’s a weird feeling, sort of detached, and one I’m not used to.

The wall phone rings and, seeing it’s Sam’s café, I grab the phone to my ear and duck into the vestibule.

‘Managed to get rid of the suits then,’ I laugh. There’s a silence. ‘Sam, are you there, hello?
Hello hello helloooo?
’ I sing, jovially. But there’s still silence. I look at the handset and, just as I’m about to hang up, a male voice comes onto the line.

‘Georgie, can you come up to the café please?’ A cold shiver trickles up my spine.

‘Who is this?’ I ask, nervously.

‘If you could just come up here please.’

I try to mask a surging feeling of unease.

‘Sam has just received some devastating news,’ he tries again, before adding, ‘Look, it might be better if you just come here.’

‘Please. Just tell me,’ I plead. Fear filling every part of me now.

And then he tells me.

‘Her father died suddenly this afternoon.’

Tears pierce my eyes. Oh no, please God don’t let this happen to Sam. My mind races to Mum and a hollow gasp squeezes from my throat. Oh Alfie. Lovely, happy, caring, kind Alfie. The perfect dad, who always made everything better.

‘I’m coming now.’ I slam the phone down and pull out my mobile. As if on autopilot I hastily type out a Twitter DM to Ciaran, cancelling tonight.

After telling Annie, I run to the staff lift, fling the cage door shut and jam my hand on the button. Tears pour down my face. Nathan. I have to call Nathan for her. I can’t wait for the lift to galvanise into action, so I head to the stairs instead. Grabbing the handrail, I haul myself two steps at a time all the way up to the café that has a ‘closed’ sign on the window.

I fling open the door and see Sam crouched in a sobbing huddle on the kitchen floor. Two men in suits are standing over her. One of them bends down and attempts to touch her arm, but she shrinks away. I run to her. Both men stand aside. I throw my arms around her trembling body. She subsides into me and the noise that escapes from her tiny body is primal, like nothing I’ve ever heard before. I rock her in my arms until another pair of arms appears around us. I look up and see Nathan kneeling around us.

‘I’ve got her. It’s OK. I’ve got her.’ His voice is trembling. I drag myself up and stand motionless, staring at my best friend. Knowing the agony she is feeling and wishing I could snatch it away for her. Spare her the pain. It’s as if time has stood still.

‘Does she have any other family that we could contact for her?’ one of the men asks me. I shake my head. Tears slide down my face.

‘No. He was her only family,’ I say, my voice small and wobbly. The man hands me his card, and through the tears I manage to make out the Mulberry-On-Sea Police logo. I shudder, remembering the last time I saw one of these. They leave quietly and I stare at my best friend, rocking, as her world falls apart.

A
lfie just collapsed in his office – a heart attack – and he was gone, just like that. His PA worked on him and then the ambulance crew took over, but it was no use. Sam is beside herself with grief and hates herself for not having been there with him. She didn’t even get to say goodbye. It’s as if her whole existence has been shattered and I can’t stop thinking back to when Mum went, the feeling of sheer helplessness … but at least I got to say goodbye.

And it really does put things in perspective. Worrying about being on my own for Valentine’s Day and not having a date to take to the wedding just seems so trivial now. When people are dying, what does it really matter if I don’t have a man in tow? I’ve decided to flout Tina’s ‘no singletons’ rule and go to the wedding on my own. What’s the worst she can do? She probably won’t even notice me anyway and it’s better than having to put up with Maxine all day long.