TWENTY
I arrived at King’s Cross at lunchtime. Full from Coco’s care package and my body zinging with adrenaline from being plunged back into London’s energy, I didn’t bother to stop for lunch but instead headed directly to the office. Even as I did so, a voice in my head urged caution; I knew from past experience that if I carried on at too fast a pace, then a crash would surely follow, which was precisely the cycle I had been attempting to extricate myself from. With this in mind, I slowed down my walk and deliberately started to take in everything that was around me. London at Christmastime is a jewel box of delights, and I took in the pretty shop displays and lights. The seasonal theme of the area of London I was walking through was ‘Gingerbread House’, and there were huge, cheerful figures suspended around the streets. Many were, as you might expect, ‘cookie cutter’ examples, but you could also spot the ones that represented public figures; I particularly liked the cluster of ‘royal’ gingerbread people, complete with the children and a dog. One bakery had fashioned an entire Nativity scene for their window, which reminded me of my determination to get back to Yorkshire in time tomorrow, and another shop had recreated itsentire façade as a gingerbread house, complete with icing snow and an enormous Liquorice Allsort in place of the door handle.
The building our office was based in had more modest decorations, but the tree in the foyer looked cheerful enough with its candy canes and twinkling lights. I greeted the security officer on duty and jogged up the stairs to the first floor, pushing open the familiar door.
‘Fallon!’
‘Sam! Talitha! Good to see you!’
We all hugged and then I threw my bag in a corner and grabbed a chair.
‘Okay, so has anything changed since your last email?’ I asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Sam, pulling a face. ‘Lindy is still refusing to go over the final details with me and told Talitha on the phone that she was considering cancelling the whole thing unless you saw to it personally.’
Lindy Dixon was a glamorous but extremely highly strung supermodel who had been a client for about a year. We had done three events for her in that time and this Christmas bash was fairly small in comparison to those. I had done most of the preliminary work and everything had gone smoothly. I had had no concerns about Sam taking over the final execution of the party, with Talitha’s support, and Lindy herself had been happy about that. Until yesterday. I sighed.
‘All right, well, she’s got me here now. I left a message to let her know I was on my way down, but I’ve not heard back. Is everything in place?’
‘Yes, nothing has changed. The venue stylists are all going to start turning up in’ – he checked his watch – ‘just under an hour. The band is on their way and the caterers are all fine. I chased up a few final guests a week ago to check they understood the dress code and pointed them in the direction of Marcella in case theyneeded any help. Yours is here by the way – do you want to try it on?’
I glanced at my watch.
‘Not now. I’m going to get hold of Lindy and then we should head over. Marcella knows my measurements well enough. Does it look good?’
‘It’s ravishing,’ replied Talitha. ‘Beautiful fabric, kind of sparkly and shimmery but tasteful. You’ll love it.’
‘Well, that’s something,’ I replied. ‘Thank you for sorting it out at such ridiculously short notice. There wasn’t anything in my wardrobe that would have worked for a ‘Frozen’ theme.’
‘No worries, Marcella’s amazing.’
That was true. Marcella was a designer we used to provide us with rented outfits we could wear to look the part at our clients’ parties, and we recommended her to guests who were struggling with a particular party theme, or who wanted something unique. She had a lock-up somewhere full of clothes that she altered to make sure that they both fitted perfectly and would be one-time-only outfits, only to be swiftly reimagined for the next customer. She had won awards for both design and sustainability and was a thoroughly nice and very calm person. In a business like mine, contacts – or I would even say friends – like Marcella were gold dust.
Sam gathered together everything we would need while Talitha organised a taxi and I left a message for Lindy, and in five minutes we were on our way. The venue, a nineteenth-century banqueting hall in Marylebone, would take about half an hour in the traffic, so we sat back and had a good catch up.
‘So, how are you getting on in deepest, darkest Yorkshire?’ asked Sam. ‘I hope you’re feeling better. I’m so sorry for dragging you down here like this, but I didn’t want to risk the whole thing going belly up.’
‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘You did the right thing. Lindy’s a pain, but she’s a good client, so it’s worth it not to lose her. And Yorkshire is beautiful, much nicer than I thought it would be. There are quite a lot of people in the house and I’m busier than I envisaged, but I am feeling refreshed and much less stressed – mostly because I could rely on you and Talitha to look after everything brilliantly.’
I explained how I was helping Alexander out with the Christmas Fayre and that I now also had Mum and Douglas’s engagement party to arrange.
‘And how’s Jacqueline?’ asked Sam. ‘I know you were worried about spending this much time together.’
‘It’s going all right,’ I said carefully. ‘She’s quite heavily diluted by Douglas and everyone else, but she still finds plenty of ways to beMommie Dearest. But then again…’ I paused, remembering what Constance had said, that she thought Mumdidlove me, ‘…she is trying, in her own way, to help me get back on my feet. She’s into wellness now, and she’s insisting on herbal teas and experimental treatments, although I drew the line at having a colonic.’
Sam laughed.
‘That is so Jacqueline. Did she want to put a photo of it on the ’Gram?’
I pulled a face.
‘Probably. But the rest of the family saved me from that particular humiliation.’
‘They’re nice, then? What’s it like living with a kid?’
‘He’s brilliant. I’m really surprised how much I like spending time with him.’
I tried to keep my voice neutral, but Sam and I have known each other for years and I wasn’t going to get anything past him.
