Page 65 of Winter Magic at Hollybrae Castle

‘There you are! For goodness’ sake, I’ve been trying to reach you for ages but no one’s answering at the number we have on file for you!’

I yelp in surprise and nearly drop the phone when Patricia Calloway’s voice blasts through the speaker.

‘It’s taken me this long to track down a colleague who had your mobile number. It seems that employees hate answering calls from their boss over the Christmas break.’

‘I didn’t expect to hear from you…’ I say cautiously, struggling to find my voice. Ollie’s gone to the kitchen and all I can think about is whether I should follow him or give us both some space.

‘Your team manager officially handed in her notice right before the holidays.’

I stay quiet, wondering where this is going and what it’s got to do with me.

‘I’d like to formally offer you the position. You’ll be taking the job of overall team manager of the visual merchandising department, with a salary rise in line with the promotion, of course.’

I open my mouth a few times before any words come out. ‘You sacked me! You said employing an aardvark would be preferable to employing me!’

‘I’m sure I said no such thing.’ I can hear the stiletto tapping against the floor on the other end of the phone. ‘And if I implied anything of the sort, then we can put it down to the immense stress we were all under that morning. I may have been a little hasty…’

I’m not sure Patricia Calloway has ever had to apologise for anything in her life before now, but this seems like the closest to an attempt at one that anyone’s ever likely to get.

‘Look, Lula, no one could’ve foreseen that that window would actually be good for Calloways. I did what I was sure the board of directors would insist on in the moment, and since then, the viral attention has circled back around and customers want to see what we’ll do next…’

‘I thought you didn’t believe in second chances.’ I remember how small and insignificant she made me feel as she snarled that at me in her office, and how different I’ve felt since then.

‘Sometimes we have to make exceptions. Footfall is up. The replacement window has been a flop, and the only thing anyone’s talking about is when Paddington and Santa will be back. The way that video has spread online is getting people talking about Calloways again. This Christmas, we’ve outsold our biggest sales targets in years. The board are very happy with that kind of publicity and were disappointed to learn I’d fired the person responsible. They’d very much like you back on the team. As would I.’

It sounds a little bit like she’s choking on the last words, but it’s nice to hear. I never expected a phone call like this in a million years, and I’m flummoxed. On the one hand, the thought of going back to Calloways makes my skin sting like I’ve walked through a bramble bush and plunged my body into a hot bath for the first time afterwards. But on the other… More money. I could afford to move out of Mira’s spare room. I could stay in London. And Ollie’s going to be there. No matter where I’m working, it’s not going to be here, and he isn’t going to be here either. Maybe he’s right and the Mull of Kintyre is a dream for another time. For now, maybe we’re both supposed to be in London, and going back there will be a hell of a lot easier knowing I’m not jobless and I’ll be earning enough to live on…

‘Shall I take the heavy breathing as a yes, Lula?’

‘I… um…’

‘Very good. See you at eight o’clock sharp on the fourth of January for the first team meeting of the year, and the “new year, new you” design that Head Office want implemented right away. You’ll be in full control, of course.’

‘Of course,’ I repeat to the entrance hallway as she hangs up, even though there’s no one there to listen, and no one on the visual merchandising team is ever in control of any aspects at Calloways.

Did that really just happen? I should want to throw my arms wide and spin in happy circles, celebrating with Ollie, and yet, nothing about going back to Calloways feels like something worth celebrating. Did I even say yes? Did I even want to say yes?

‘That was Patricia Calloway.’ I walk out to the kitchen and find him staring mindlessly into the fridge, like he’s opened the door and forgotten what he wanted in there.

He turns to look at me as I tell him about the rest of the conversation. ‘Wow. You’re many things, Lu, but I didn’t think a hypocrite was one of them.’

‘I’m not—’ Even as I say it, I know it’s true. Here am I, having a go at him for taking a job he doesn’t want because of the financial security when I’ve just done exactly the same thing. I don’t want to go back to Calloways, but how can I turn down a job offer with a guaranteed payrise when I don’t know if I’d find anything better? It’s easy to say that we should both be chasing fulfilling careers that make us happy, but when someone literally hands one to you on a plate…

‘What’s the point in fighting it? I’m going back to London anyway, so are you. Going back to a job at least makes it easier.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Exactly,’ I repeat, suddenly feeling listless and powerless from trying to fight against something when I’m the only person who wants to fight against it in the first place.

‘There you go then, we both got exactly what we wanted out of this arrangement.’

The distance between us across the kitchen feels like we’re standing five hundred miles apart. Nothing about that sentence is true. Four weeks ago, if I’d known this was how December would end, I would have been ecstatic. Four weeks ago, this was everything I could’ve dreamed of.

Now, it feels more like a nightmare, but for no discernible reason. It’s by far the most sensible option, and I would gain nothing by turning it down. Turning it down won’t magically make the Mull of Kintyre dream come true, and Patricia has grovelled, in her own uniquely translated way. Everything about this makes sense.

But with Ollie, nothing has made sense from the very start. As if I was going to come to Scotland and pretend to be the wife of a man I’d never met. As if I was going to decorate an entire castle by myself and pretend to be a parent to two borrowed children. As if I was going to fall head over heels for the place, and the children, and the fake husband. And yet…

Like he can read my thoughts, he sighs and his demeanour softens. ‘Maybe this is a good thing. You get a more senior role and a chance to start over. A chance for more creative control and to showcase your work on the UK’s biggest shopping stage. And you deserve that, Lu, truly. If it doesn’t work out, at least you can leave with more experience and a stronger CV for whatever you do next.’