‘And you’re flying out for New Year in Manhattan as soon as you’re finished here?’ Bill might not be giving much away himself, but he’s certainly big on filling in my backstory.
I shake my head and rack my brain. ‘… or it could be Los Angeles.’
Bill gives a sniff. ‘I take it from the confusion that it’s not a long distance relationship?’ From his smirk I’d say he has to be looking down on my lack of geographical knowledge too.
‘No, George and I are ancient history.’ At least this has taken the heat off my earlier blunder.
‘Great.’ For a second Bill’s beaming at me, then he pulls a face. ‘Except, it possibly isn’t so great for you.’
‘This is why it’s good to talk about the future, not the past.’ I’m hoping that’ll put a stop to him banging on about ski lodges and let me get back to my current, most pressing problem. ‘So is there any good reason dogs aren’t allowed in the castle?’ If I hadn’t put both my size sevens (on a good day, sometimes I have to admit to an eight) in it so wholeheartedly, I might have been able to fall back on the shared history I’d rather forget. As it is, I’m fighting this at a disadvantage.
Bill blinks as if he’s having to drag himself back to the moment. ‘It’s an insurance issue. It’s a very ancient structure, we can’t have dogs running wild.’
I think we both know that’s bollocks. ‘So you’re happy for the place to be wrecked by party revellers, but a tiny dog, who wouldn’t harm a fly, let alone a battlement, is banned?’ My voice has gone high with disapproval. It’s Bill’s turn to look vaguely embarrassed, and I’m not going to waste that show of weakness.
‘A castleful of shit-faced stags or a small dog? I know who I’d rather let to.’ I’m about to pull out my trump card. ‘Merwyn doesn’t drink either. He’s completely teetotal.’
Bill’s wincing. ‘Shit-faced. That reminds me, there’s the poop issue too.’
Damn that I’m the one who brought this up. But we’re covered here. ‘Merwyn and I come armed with value-range sandwich bags, we scoop before the poop hits the ground. Every time. And we have baby wipes for squelchy days.’
Bill holds up his hand. ‘Stop! That’s way too much information if you’re not a dog person.’ And in a nutshell, that’s the issue.
At least we know. Arrogantand a dog detester. How did I get him so wrong? As if he wasn’t bad enough already, he just went down another lift shaft in my estimation. Merwyn’s at his most adorable, waving his paw in the air, quivering with choccie-anticipation. But Bill’s oblivious, so I’ll have to try another route.
I have one last weapon so I clear my throat. ‘Dogs aside, you’ve done a top-price Christmas let to someone expecting the full works. I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes if Libby turns up and finds the castle is bare. You need my help here, so you might need to ease up on the anti-animal thing.’
Bill’s squinting at me. ‘Sorry?’
It never fails to surprise me when someone thinks that people who can afford to pay too much for things won’t want value for money. From what I’ve seen working atDanielsthe people with the biggest bank accounts are always the pickiest. What’s more, they can also afford the redress when things go tits up. I’m just surprised that Bill, being one of ‘them’, doesn’t know the score here.
I’m going to have to tell it to him like it is. ‘I have to warn you, Mrs Johnstone-Cody’s nothing like your no-fucks-given easy-to-please stags. When she sees the lack of space, luxury, privacy, decorations and authentic four-posters, she’s not going to be a happy bunny.’ I pause to let that sink in. ‘That’s definitely an optimistic view. Libby’s larger than life, and she doesn’t take prisoners. Realistically her explosion could blow the roof off – off the castleandwhatever business you’re running here.’
I have to admit most of what I know about Libby is what I’ve heard second hand from Fliss. She’s a couple of years older than us so when we went to stay with Fliss’s mum when we were at uni Libby was already off living her super-expansive and very charmed life. But the stories from Fliss about Libby’s latest exploits have kept me shocked and impressed in equal measure for years.
Bill groans. ‘If you’re more than five feet tall, ancient four posters are a pain in the butt. And however hard Mrs JC stamps her feet, I can’t make the castle any bigger – it’s the size that it is, end of story.’ The way he’s rolling out the excuses with that sarcastic tone, he has no idea of the shit storm that’s about to hit him.
‘But there are things youcoulddo?’ If I’m pushing him, it’s only for the sake of Merwyn’s Christmas.
He’s straight back at me. ‘If Mrs JC seriously wants to lug in all her own woodandkeep the very temperamental fires going, good luck to her with that one, I’m happy to make myself invisible.’ His expression hardens. ‘But if I’m banned from my own kitchen, she can forget borrowing my internet.’
My mouth’s dropped open. ‘But you said there wasn’t any?’
‘There isn’t. Not in the public areas.’
Oh my.If I’m going to have to crawl on the floor here to beg, I’m going to have to do it. INEVERuse my womanly wiles to get what I want, I’dNEVER NEVER NEVERflirt with a guy like Will. I mean Bill. Except in my head, obviously. Or when I accidentally got all breathy and chesty in those Merino wool incidents, but I swear they weren’t planned. But for something this important, this one time, I’m desperately channelling my inner Audrey.
‘I need to upload pictures to Instagram as they happen, or no one will see the Johnstone-Cody Christmas. It’s my responsibility to deliver fabulous photos and I’m getting paid for it. Without internet I might as well not be here, I’m totally stuffed. I know it’s a first world problem, but I need this job.’
I can see him soften a little. Then he says. ‘There’s ten meg in my room.’
‘Excuse me?’ I have no idea what he’s talking about.
‘Ten megabytes per second – that’s how fast the internet works. And there’s signal in there too.’
‘WHAT?!!!’ When he invited me to share the hot tub it was a flat outNO!If he invited me into his bedroom to use the internet, however undressed he was, I’d have to shut my eyes tight and dive straight in even though I’d despise myself for it. But I draw the line at pleading stares. ‘So, can I borrow it or not?’ I’m aware my glare’s coming out a bit fiercely. ‘Occasionally? By arrangement? When you’re not in there?’ I’m going for broke here. ‘Iamsaving your life here with my insider information, don’t forget.’
He’s shaking his head. ‘Sure. Fine. But don’t tell anyone else.’
