Page 15 of Christmas All the Way

‘And you,’ she replied, ignoring another treacherous squiggle in the pit of her stomach. ‘Thank you for showing me in.’

He inclined his head, and once again Grace was put in mind of a Regency gentleman. A moment later, he was gone and Ivy was beaming once more, her expression a marked contrast to her son’s solemnity. ‘Let’s get down to business. I thought we’d chat in the staffroom – it’s less cramped than my office.’

She led Grace through two more doors and up a small flight of stairs. A narrow landing offered several more doors, one of which opened into a decent-sized room with a kettle, a microwave and an expensive-looking coffee machine jostling for space on the work surfaces. Cheery velvet sofas sat against two of the walls, dotted with cushions and multi-coloured blankets that were hand-knitted, if Grace was any judge. A splendid oak coffee table held several dog-eared magazines and Grace spotted Country Living, Tatler and Good Housekeeping among the pile. The overall vibe was both homely and welcoming and she instantly felt some of her tension slip away.

‘Please, take a seat,’ Ivy urged as she moved towards the coffee machine. ‘What can I get you?’

Caffeine was the last thing Grace’s jittery nerves needed. ‘Do you have any herbal tea?’ she asked, settling on the sunshine yellow sofa. ‘Camomile or peppermint? If not, normal tea would be lovely.’

Ivy busied herself taking cups from a cupboard. ‘I think I’ll join you. The rain has meant we’ve had a quiet day so far but it has led to me consuming rather too much coffee.’

Once the drinks were made, Ivy carried them over to the coffee table. Setting them down, she perched on the teal green sofa and turned a thoughtful gaze towards Grace. ‘Perhaps I should start by telling you more about Santa’s Secret,’ she said. ‘Obviously, I explained a little about the origin of the business in our chat at the weekend. We’re a small concern – beside Misha and myself, we have April and Lucy who work at weekends, and Freddie and Sanjay in our warehouse. They handle delivery and installation of our lights and animated displays, and are generally brilliant. Paulette lives locally and works from home most of the time, sending out invoices and making sure we get paid.’ She paused, as though mentally ticking off a list. ‘And there’s Raff, of course, but he doesn’t actually work here. He pops in from time to time when he’s visiting Ruggles for his gardening business.’

It wasn’t new information but Grace couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or disappointed to learn she was unlikely to run into Raff on a daily basis, if Ivy deemed her suitable for the job at Santa’s Secret. He was undeniably good-looking – her stomach seemed determined to somersault every time she saw him – but she had no doubt he could be prickly, and the last thing she needed was to develop an embarrassing crush on the boss’s son. ‘Okay,’ she said, opening the notebook she’d taken from her handbag while Ivy had been making their tea and forcing herself to focus. ‘I know the position is part-time – do you know which days you need to fill or does it vary?’

Ivy tipped her head. ‘We’re currently closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, to give us time to replenish stock and change things around to keep everything fresh, although that will change at the end of September. I’m looking for someone flexible, a Jack or Jill of all trades to cover the tills if needed, keep on top of inventory items or to help customers find what they need out on the floor.’ She stopped and leaned forward to pick up one of the mugs. ‘But why don’t you tell me a bit more about you? I believe you worked for the library service before, is that right?’

Grace described her old role, doing her best to highlight where she worked with the public and co-ordinated events that had involved a variety of different skill sets. ‘I created displays, liaised with local businesses, worked on promotion and helped with social media,’ she explained. ‘I’m quite good with Creata – it’s a design app for making eye-catching graphics to use online. And while I’m nowhere near your league, it’s safe to say I know my way round a Christmas tree.’

‘Good,’ Ivy said, nodding. She considered Grace thoughtfully. ‘What’s your idea of the perfect Christmas?’

The question caught Grace off guard. She’d been expecting a follow-up about her work in the library. ‘Oh. Um…’ she trailed off, her mind suddenly blank. What information was Ivy trying to uncover here? More detail about her interior design experience? Her enthusiasm for the festive period as a whole? What was the best way to answer?

‘It’s not a trick question,’ Ivy said gently, as the silence stretched and Grace felt her cheeks grow warmer and warmer. ‘Don’t overthink it. Just describe what makes Christmas the most wonderful time of the year for you.’

For a moment, all Grace could think of was the Andy Williams song with the same name, which celebrated hearts that were glowing and much mistletoeing. Kissing under the mistletoe wasn’t something Grace wanted to think about, not with the image of Raff so fresh in her mind, and she didn’t imagine it was what Ivy meant, either. What then? she asked herself, racking her brain for something original to say. What could she offer up to impress a woman who had dressed some of the most famous windows in London? Grace took a breath. ‘Well, it goes without saying that I love decorating the tree and all the other things that make it a magical time of year,’ she began, doing her best to gather her fragmented thoughts. ‘But, for me, the best bit of Christmas is the happiness it can evoke. Nothing used to beat seeing my son’s eyes turn to saucers when we turned on the tree lights after decorating it together, or hearing him squeak in surprise at the snowy footprints in front of the fireplace on Christmas morning and the remains of Rudolph’s carrot.’ She stopped, worried she sounded far too wistful. ‘If I could bottle the essence of that wonder and joy, I’d give it to everyone free of charge.’

Ivy’s gaze was sympathetic. ‘They grow up too fast, don’t they?’

Grace nodded, her eyes suddenly moist. ‘He’s spending Christmas in Australia this year.’ The words slipped out before she could stop them and she wanted to cringe, because this was an interview, not a therapy session. ‘Anyway, when I saw your advert, I realised helping others to make the season bright was exactly what I wanted to do.’

The older woman sighed and shook her head, and, for one horrible moment, Grace thought she was going to end the interview with a trite brush-off about being in touch. But Ivy surprised her. ‘I think you’re going to fit right in at Santa’s Secret,’ she said, smiling. ‘When can you start?’

Grace considered calling into Juniper Cottage to share her good news with Keeley but she didn’t want to disturb her friend at work and settled for sending an overexcited text instead. By the time she got home, Keeley had replied.

WOW. I did not see that coming! Congratulations. Do I need to start calling you Santa’s Little Helper now? X

The suggestion made Grace grin. Please don’t, she tapped out. Also avoid references to elf and safety, do not ask where I parked the reindeer or suggest I practise elfy eating if I want to fit down any chimneys x

That elicited an eye-roll emoji. As if I would. When do you start? x

Grace felt a little shiver of excitement as she typed her reply. This Saturday x

Keeley’s response was instant. Not wasting any time, then! Want to go for dinner after you finish? There’s a nice pub in Flaxwood x

Grace didn’t need to think twice. YES PLEASE! x

She really ought to tell her mother, Grace thought, closing the message app and placing her phone on the kitchen counter. But she wasn’t certain how she would take the news; she hadn’t been especially encouraging when Grace had floated the idea and she wanted to hug the feeling of achievement at her own success for just a little bit longer. She glanced at the clock, doing a swift calculation and realising Jack would be fast asleep now. Would any of her other friends understand why she’d taken a comparatively low-paid, part-time job? She wasn’t at all sure they would. Perhaps she wouldn’t mention it until after she’d started. There would be plenty of time to fill them in once she’d settled into her new role.

Determined to celebrate the rush of elation she’d felt when Ivy had offered her the job, Grace pulled a packet of chocolate Hobnobs from one of the kitchen cupboards, marvelling all over again at the fact that biscuits lasted more than twenty-four hours now that Jack was not there to devour them.

‘Here’s to trying new things,’ she murmured, raising her cup of tea in salute. ‘Who knows where they might lead?’

CHAPTER FIVE

‘Change for its own sake is to be avoided, Miss Dalrymple. And yet if we change nothing, nothing changes.’

The Mistress of Pendennis, ELIZA NORTON