‘Fashion alert on the cabbie back there. Double denim and a paisley shirt,’ Hayley said as she and Angel mounted the steps towards the grand entrance of the imposing Westchester house. She was trying to lighten the mood for herself as much as for Angel. She had played through the various outcomes of this visit on the cab ride over. The very worst one was Cynthia standing at the door alongside US immigration officers with guns and handcuffs. The best one was the housekeeper being allowed free rein of the fire poker.
‘And he sang out of tune,’ Angel added.
‘Like you,’ Hayley said, nudging her arm.
‘I sing in tune!’
‘I’ve heard dolphins love it.’
‘Mum!’
‘Oh damn it!’ Hayley stopped walking. ‘What am I wearing?!’
‘Jeans, a cream coat you’ve had since forever and a T-shirt that isn’t really cool for your age.’
‘What’s wrong with telling the world I like Coca-Cola? Don’t you know the holidays are coming?’ Hayley began to chant thetheme song from the Coke advert until Angel put her hands over her ears. ‘I meant I’m not wearing my uniform,’ Hayley stated once the joke had worn thin.
‘I wondered why it was easier getting here. There was no adjusting your hat or ducking for doors.’
‘Is she going to call me Agatha?’
‘Is she going to call me Charlotte?’
Hayley let out a breath.
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Angel said, indicating the door in front of them.
Hayley raised her hand then stopped. ‘Something’s different.’ She turned to Angel. ‘The garland on the door here.’ She knew it wasn’t a touch they’d added. She reached out and put her fingers to the round fir pine cone and lace ornament hanging on the door. ‘Did you put it there?’
Angel shook her head.
The door opened and Hayley immediately dropped her hand from the decoration to greet Cynthia. ‘Hello… sorry, we were going to knock straight away but we started to admire your garland on the door.’
The woman smiled at them both. This was a good start. There was colour on her cheeks, she was wearing a vibrant, pink dress with navy-blue piping and she wasn’t waving a fist.
‘Won’t you come in?’ Cynthia said, opening the door wider.
Hayley pushed Angel in first.
‘Wow!’ Angel stated, her head tilting backwards as they stepped into the hall. Hayley found her head tilting back too as she took in the transformation. The cavernous, expensive-looking hall of bright tiles and wooden cladding had been transformed into something warm and welcoming, straight out of an upmarket alpine lodge. There was a huge, real Christmas tree towering up towards the ceiling, its branches decked with coloured lights, redbows, balls and baubles. Swags of velvet hung from the stair rail, the scent of pine, marshmallow and mint filled Hayley’s nostrils and Angel was already walking over to a tweed chair in which a fat Santa Claus doll was sitting, his head turning left and right and his animated cheeks glowing.
‘Come through,’ Cynthia said, opening up the doors to the lounge.
Hayley took Angel by the arm, pulling her away from Father Christmas and trying to direct her attention back to the task in hand.
‘Wow,’ Angel stated again as they entered the other room.
‘Enough of the wowing,’ Hayley said through gritted teeth. She levelled a smile at Cynthia, who led the way over to the sofas.
Their hard work to transform the room into a more homely space had been left untouched by the house owner. There was even a second Christmas tree by the fire, more ornaments and fripperies, a couple more framed photos.
‘Won’t you sit down,’ Cynthia said, dropping into an armchair.
Hayley plumped for the two-seater sofa opposite and Angel followed her lead.
Cynthia smiled. ‘Would you like some tea?’ She indicated the pot on the coffee table between them.
Hayley shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’
