Christmas Cracker 3-Book Collection: Three Cosy Christmas Romances. Lindsey Kelk
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sinks.
‘That’s right. I met one of the actors earlier, with his son – a really cute little boy with a gorgeous head of dark curls. He brought the boy along to make the performance seem more authentic. ’
Whaat? Nooo, it can’t be.
‘Was the little boy called Declan by any chance?’ I ask, mentally kicking myself for not having guessed that his dad was an actor.
‘Oh yes, I think so, how do you know? Have you met him too?’ Amy gives me a wide-eyed look.
‘Err, yes. This morning. He bought a Chloé bag.’ And there was me thinking reality TV shows were, in fact, real. I can’t believe I didn’t cotton on. I should have guessed, with their gorgeous accents and picture-perfect shopping scenario, like something straight out of a Hallmark film. And with Hannah practically breathing down my neck as I served the guy, and then pretending it was authentic with her ‘wish I had a husband like that’ comment. I make a mental note to scrutinise every customer more thoroughly in future. Just because I’m doing the show – under protest, for the record – doesn’t mean Kelly can make a fool of me a second time. Besides, I’m only doing Kelly Cooper Come Instore to avoid having to flog boring washing machines downstairs, and because my swirly signatured fifteen-year-old self didn’t know any better than to check for sneaky ‘filming for worldwide TV broadcasting’ clauses. I do a big, satisfying harrumph inside my head.
‘Well, there you go. Nothing to it, just like any other day in Women’s Accessories,’ Amy says, attempting a bright smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.
‘I guess so.’ I shrug. ‘But it means losing a day off,’ I add, wondering if anyone has thought about that – and it’s not just me, all the staff have Sunday off. It might even be illegal to work six days per week. Ha! I don’t remember seeing that covered anywhere in the contract.
‘That’s why all staff who choose to take part will be paid extra for their time, their normal salary plus an additional payment, and also benefit from other perks. Guest appearances, interviews … Apparently it’s not uncommon for the people who appear in Kelly’s shows to go on and command considerable sums for doing all sorts of things – read bedtime stories to shoppers, I think was one suggestion, attend openings, magazine interviews; even appear on daytime TV, if they want to. And the board saw a whole stack of figures from KCTV showing how previous programmes boosted revenue for the businesses featured – by fifty per cent in some cases. So it really will be worth it, I’m sure, if Carrington’s is revived and we all get to keep our jobs.’
‘Wow. Fifty per cent! That’s pretty impressive. It’ll be like the boom days again.’ Thinking back to that time, I remembered our sales figures were fantastic – Annie and I were almost doubling our salaries some months, with the amount of commission we made. And Carrington’s could certainly do with a boost, the way sales had been flagging recently.
‘Exactly. But you’ll need to be here early, for make-up and stuff. They want to start shooting, as it were, at around 10 a.m. Is that OK for you?’
‘Sure,’ I say, thinking it will be worth losing my lazy Sunday mornings in bed and catching up on my Sky+ recordings to see Carrington’s back on top. I couldn’t bear it if the store went into a terminal decline and we all lost our jobs. And before Tom took over, that was a very real possibility. I can’t even contemplate Carrington’s going to the wall and having to close down. What would we do? We’re like a big happy family that looks out for each other. Laughing and working together – with a bit of gossiping too, of course. Someone even did a tally once and worked out that there had been eleven Carrington’s weddings over the years, where employees had married after meeting on the shop floor. Years ago, the staff actually used to board in the maze of rooms up in the attic and, during the Second World War, the underground tunnels, one of which meanders as far as Lovelace Street, a good mile away, were used as shelters during the blitz. The whole town, practically, took cover down there. Mrs Grace told me all about it. She remembers it clearly and she was only a little girl at the time. So, if Carrington’s were to close, then it would be like ripping the heart out of Mulberry-On-Sea, and I don’t think I could bear that. I decide to suck it up and get on with the show. I have to. For Carrington’s.
And then it dawns on me, I’ll need to add the Kelly Cooper Come Instore series to my recording schedule. The actual show that I’m going to be in – and, despite everything that’s happened, a little shiver of excitement swirls through me. And hair extensions! I’m sure Kelly said something about hair extensions. I was so wound up this morning that I didn’t really take it all in. I’m going to have big hair. I wonder if I’ll get to have my teeth whitened too? Bound to! All the reality stars have perfect gleaming teeth. It’s a basic. And maybe I’ll get to go to film premières and stuff. Perhaps this won’t be so bad after all.
‘Well, thanks for explaining it all. Just wish I’d known before – maybe then it wouldn’t have been such a massive shock, seeing myself on primetime TV like that, without any warning,’ I explain, realising that I actually feel OK about it now. It was the shock, that’s all. I panicked. If only Tom had told me, and sworn me to secrecy or something, not a single word would have passed my lips. And I could even have signed the NDA form too, and everything would still be perfect between us. I know how to keep a secret. I had plenty of practice when Dad was in prison – I hated people knowing and I even changed my surname to Mum’s maiden name as a way of burying my past, but I’m over that now and refuse to make Dad my guilty secret any more. But as Sam said, the surprise element for the viewers would have been ruined. Well, they wouldn’t have seen my jigging bottom, that’s for sure. I would have made damn sure of it. I vow never to shake my booty ever again. Just in case there’s a hidden camera lurking nearby.
‘You’re welcome to pop back any time if there’s anything else you want to chat about,’ she says, her voice softening now.
‘Thank you.’ I turn to leave.
‘And Georgie?’ she adds.
‘Yes?’ I stop and hold the door open with my foot. Amy hesitates and clears her throat.
‘I know it’s none of my business … ’ She pauses and fiddles with the sleeve of her jacket.
‘Go on.’ I smile encouragingly.
‘Well, I just wanted to say that I know you and Tom were, err … dating.’ A blotchy rash appears on her neck. She’s the first person up here on the executive floor to actually talk to me about our relationship … well, if you can call it that now. ‘Don’t be too hard on him … he really did want to tell you,’ she adds.
‘Oh?’ My forehead creases and I motion for her to carry on.
‘Yes, at first he was quite insistent on not signing the confidentiality agreement, and only caved in because the board were in danger of losing the show. He desperately wants Carrington’s to benefit from the publicity, to turn the store around and secure the future for all of us.’
‘I see.’ She nods and I smile back. ‘Thank you.’
On leaving Amy’s office, I ponder on this insight as I make my way along the corridor. Maybe I was a little hasty in confronting Tom. I didn’t exactly give him much time to explain, and maybe he was reluctant to sign the agreement because he really did want to tell me, but just couldn’t, it was a business decision, nothing personal. Or maybe he genuinely did think it would be a wonderful surprise and that I’d love it, actually being in a reality TV show, instead of just lounging on the sofa necking wine and scoffing mince pies while watching one. I would probably have whooped for joy if I’d been shown in a positive light – after all, I love a good reality show as much as everyone else. And I guess we both just want the same thing at the end of the day: to make Carrington’s glorious again.
I’ve got twenty minutes left of my lunch break so I decide to head to Tom’s office, figuring everyone deserves a second chance. It was just an argument that got out of hand. A misunderstanding. People say stuff they don’t really mean in the heat of the moment all the time. I know Sam