Carrington’s at Christmas: The Complete Collection: Cupcakes at Carrington’s, Me and Mr Carrington, Christmas at Carrington’s, Ice Creams at Carrington’s. Alexandra Brown

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Carrington’s at Christmas: The Complete Collection: Cupcakes at Carrington’s, Me and Mr Carrington, Christmas at Carrington’s, Ice Creams at Carrington’s - Alexandra  Brown


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think it was definitely her?’ I ask, stupidly, before realising she’s bound to have orchestrated it. I chew nervously at the side of my thumbnail; my head is still reeling.

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘Well, do you fancy a drink?’ I head over to the mini-bar, thinking I could certainly do with one. And then blush when I remember that it’s barely breakfast time.

      ‘God no, bit early for me – my liver feels as though it might pack up at any moment. The shots in that karaoke bar were lethal,’ he groans. ‘A glass of water would be good though.’ I nod and pour him a generous glassful, my hands still trembling slightly.

      ‘Can I use your phone to call Melissa?’

      ‘Sure.’ I hand him my mobile, and a few seconds later he tells Melissa to get herself along to my room immediately. I make my way over to one of the armchairs and Ciaran follows.

      ‘You OK? You look really rattled,’ he says, flopping down in the seat beside me.

      ‘Me? Yes, yes, I’m fine thanks,’ I say, airily.

      ‘You sure? Only you look kind of distracted.’ He frowns. I nod, pulling my thumb away from my clenched teeth and force a smile onto my face. ‘So how’s it going with the revamp?’ he asks, tactfully changing the subject.

      ‘Oh, don’t remind me,’ I reply, glancing at the adjoining door to make sure it’s definitely closed.

      ‘That bad eh?’ Before I can answer, there’s a timid tap at the door. Lauren is standing in the corridor looking very nervous when I answer it.

      ‘I’ve got Ciaran’s stuff,’ she says, tentatively, clutching a bundle of clothes.

      ‘Well, you’d better come in then.’

      ‘I’m really sorry, Ciaran, it was just meant as a joke,’ Lauren pleads, as he makes his way over towards her.

      ‘Who put you up to it?’ Ciaran asks, trying to sound serious.

      ‘Um,’ she replies, but hesitates for too long, and then the flicker of her eyes indicates she’s not alone. I pop my head out through the doorway and see Melissa and various other male colleagues skulking halfway down the corridor.

      ‘You’re for it now.’ I wag a finger at Melissa, as Ciaran pushes past me to get to her.

      ‘Oh, come on, it was only a laugh. A leg-pull for the wedding boy, that’s all,’ she says, adopting a pretend Kung Fu stance, but Ciaran is too quick and tips the glass of water over her head. Melissa shakes herself down like a wet dog.

      ‘We need a picture, where’s your phone?’ Ciaran yells at me, and I race back into the room to retrieve it.

      ‘Let me take one of you all,’ Lauren offers. So I jump over next to Melissa, Ciaran quickly follows, and we both stick up V signs above her head.

      ‘Thanks.’ I take my phone back and scan the crowd. ‘Where’s Eddie?’ I ask Lauren.

      ‘Oh, he went home. Said he didn’t feel well. Tom went with him.’ My heart sinks at this revelation. So Tom has gone then. Talk about love them and leave them – he obviously couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

      27

      There’s a ‘morning after the weekend before’ silence when I arrive at work. Somebody has cranked the music up and ‘Love Is All Around’ is playing on a continuous loop, driving me round the twist, as Mrs Grace would say. And there’s still half an hour to go until opening time.

      I do a quick scan towards Tom’s Fine Jewellery counter and feel relieved on seeing it’s empty, but then irritated by the sight of the limited edition Valentine bottles of pink champagne he’s got piled up to flog too. Since when did Carrington’s sell alcohol? And I bet he’s got a bottle or two stashed away to share with Maxine on Valentine’s Day. She was obviously lying about being single.

      I reach my counter, tweak the Valentine promotion board into place, just about manage to fling my bag in the locker when Tina appears. She’s wearing a headband with a pair of flashing red hearts bouncing around on springs above her head, and clutching a batch of white forms that she starts dishing out.

      ‘Thanks, what is it?’ I ask, when she tosses one down on top of the cocktail rings, narrowly missing Annie’s strategically arranged miniature Cupid soft toy display. A fiver with every purchase, and they say, ‘I love you’ when you press the left paw, although Annie found one the other day that sounded more like ‘I loathe you’. We think the battery must be dying … and I know the feeling. With her free arm on her hip and a bored look on her face, Tina eyes me up and down.

      ‘Take a look and see,’ she says with a curt smile. Then she flicks out her ponytail, and grins as if we’re actually real friends. ‘Can’t wait until Sunday,’ she quickly adds, in an extra loud voice. I stare at her blankly, wondering what she’s going on about. ‘My hen party. Oh, don’t tell me you’d forgotten?’ She treats me to her crazy cow smile. I groan inwardly, thinking: don’t remind me. ‘Can’t wait to catch up,’ she trills, as she stalks off to hand out the rest of the forms. I grab the form and see that it says ‘Diversity Awareness Survey’ across the top.

      ‘Can I have everyone’s attention please? If you could huddle around me. Chop chop.’ She claps her hands. ‘Come on, nearly opening time.’ Tina’s voice is bristling with efficiency. We all look up. ‘Recently I’ve witnessed some very disappointing behaviour towards our customers from overseas that quite frankly could land us in very hot water indeed. As a responsible employee –’ a little round of sniggers circulates – ‘I took my concerns to Amy, the HR manager, and let me tell you … she was horrified! So, she asked me to make sure these forms are completed straight away.’ She waves the pile of leftover documents in the air. So that’s what she was busy scribbling about in her notebook. I smile inwardly, wondering when she’s going to start heeding her own warning about tolerance towards others, as she sure as hell won’t even tolerate me talking to or tweeting Ciaran.

      There’s a groan from the guys in Menswear as they flip open the forms marked ‘Strictly Confidential’ at the bottom of each page.

      ‘And the document can also be found on the Carrington’s web page on the HR shared drive if any of you wants to complete it online and do your bit for the environment.’ She smiles, looking very pleased with herself for being so forward-thinking.

      ‘Wouldn’t it have been better not to have printed any at all in that case?’ Melissa points out. ‘And it says to insert a cross if completing the form electronically and use a black pen if writing the answers,’ Melissa adds with a wicked glint in her eyes. ‘So what do I do with the pen then?’ There’s silence as we all wait for the punch line. ‘Whatever you want,’ Tina steps in. ‘Even you can work that one out.’ She looks as though she might be regretting her overzealousness now.

      I busy myself with completing the form. I don’t like Tina but I don’t want to upset her either, not when she holds the key to my commission payments. Everyone flicks through the form, a couple of Home Electrical guys pause on the section about criminal convictions, and after debating whether a caution for a drive-by gobbing incident counts, they move on to the sexual orientation section.

      Having delivered the forms,Tina stalks off, the flashing red hearts bouncing wildly and her denim wedge slingbacks slapping furiously as she gathers speed. With almost comedic timing, she catches her pocket on the outstretched hand of the Missoni mannequin, yanking it free as she flounces from the floor.

      Show over, I’m crouching down to retrieve my phone when Maxine suddenly appears from behind me. ‘Hi there.’

      The smile immediately slips from my face and, after flinging the phone back into my bag, I jump up so that for once I’m operating from the same level as her.

      ‘Oh Maxine, I didn’t see you there. How are you?’

      Ignoring


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