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
for a moment, give the bag a quick stroke with the back of my index finger so as not to mark it, and lean forward slightly, squeezing my boobs together as I hold the bag out to him. I murmur a silent prayer for forgiveness to the women who chained themselves up so we wouldn’t have to resort to this kind of thing. But I can’t help wondering if they had to pay their own gas bills too.
Licking his fleshy lips, Malikov’s eyes flick to my cleavage and I know I’ve got his attention.
‘And, well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Catherine … our very own new royal princess,’ I discreetly cross my fingers to cover the fib I’m about to tell. But needs must and all that. ‘Yes, Kate is the only other person to have this particular handbag. The designer sent it personally as a wedding present, and you know I’m almost certain I spotted it tucked under Kate’s arm when she was on the telly the other day.’ Malikov’s eyes widen. ‘And she was standing next to Her Majesty … the actual Queen!’ I add for good measure, making big eyes and willing my cheeks to stop burning. ‘So, I’m sure we can agree on a super deal especially for you.’ I glance at James, pleased with myself for having mentioned Malikov’s specific requirement.
Behind me, the gentle swing of the wall clock pendulum ticks away the excruciatingly long silence as Malikov ponders on what I’ve just said.
‘No. I don’t think we have a sale here.’ It’s as if somebody has slammed on the emergency brake. My heart skips a beat. This has never happened before. ‘Is that the best you can do for cash?’ He fixes a pair of now sinister-looking eyes on me, and then I get it.
‘Kon, I can understand your hesitation. This is a very expensive bag.’ I swallow hard. ‘With certain … more exclusive customers –’ I rack my brains for a suitable sweetener before deciding to wing it again – ‘we could offer a selection of special promotional gifts.’ Pausing to clear my throat, I spot James in my peripheral vision and he looks panicky. ‘A purse or two to complement your handbag choices. And a selection of fashion jewellery,’ I add, remembering the flashy costume jewellery hidden in the cupboard behind my counter, too garish for our usual customers. The Brazilian jewellery supplier refused to take the items back and, even with the half-price markdown in the Christmas sale, we weren’t able to shift any of it.
Malikov’s monobrow creases. His eyes dart greedily towards James for confirmation, who nods. ‘I’ll just pop downstairs and get you a selection of our best purses and bring the tray with the jewellery collection, if I may.’
When I make it back to the personal shopping suite, Malikov and his entourage aren’t there.
‘What happened? Where’s he gone?’ My heart sinks.
‘I’ve just got back from escorting him to his car.’ James is grinning from ear to ear.
‘But what about these gifts?’ I say, glancing at the stash in my arms.
‘Oh, he said he’d collect them next time.’
‘Next time? I take it you got a sale then?’ I nod hopefully.
‘Damn right,’ he replies.
‘And?’ I prompt, putting the purses and jewellery on the circular sofa before crossing my fingers.
‘A Louis, two Balenciaga and –’ he pauses to pull a face and make quote signs – ‘the exclusive under-shoulder bag that our very own Princess Kate was carrying on the telly.’ James laughs and I grin with excitement. This must be more than we’ve sold in months – it’s almost like the boom days. ‘Oh, and a pair of Union Jack cufflinks,’ James rolls his eyes. ‘And get this …’ James leans into me with a hushed voice, the electricity between us is almost tangible. ‘He was hinting at both Chiavacci Kelly bags. And he wants to be treated like royalty.’ James and I both smirk at the same time.
‘Yes, really sorry about that, it won’t happen again,’ I say, knowing I overstepped the mark.
‘Well, I think we can overlook it this time. Your royal innuendo sure got him hooked, and just imagine if he buys the Chiavaccis?’ My pulse races.
‘Oh my God … well done,’ I whisper back, my mind working overtime to try and calculate my share of the commission. The Balenciagas alone cost well over £1,000 each!
‘And it’s all down to you.’
There’s a moment of silence between us.
‘Hardly. I didn’t do anything,’ I say, loving his modesty. ‘You were the one who organised everything.’
‘Yes, but you were the one who reeled him in,’ he says seriously, as a whiff of his delicious citrusy aftershave teases my nostrils. ‘Our dream holiday is definitely on now,’ he grins. Then James realises that his hand is still on my arm, and he blushes before taking it off.
‘Sorry,’ he says awkwardly, and turns to go.
‘Don’t be,’ I mutter, but he’s already striding off towards the door.
5
‘Three cheers for Ciaran, and Tina of course.’ I’m in the canteen and Tina has just announced her engagement. After an initial stunned silence – they’ve only been seeing each other for a few months – we’re all necking plastic cups of Asda buck’s fizz, even though it’s only lunchtime.
The radio has been switched off and Ciaran is standing in the middle of the floor. ‘Guys, I’m overwhelmed. Not only because she said yes …’ he pauses momentarily to glance at Tina, who’s grinning like the cat that’s got the whole damn dairy. And it’s no wonder. Ciaran hired a suite at a posh hotel in London and they spent the weekend there so he could propose, so Lauren told me. I guess this is what Ciaran’s been up to, then, planning the proposal. Sam will be thrilled. As queen of hearts, she loves a good wedding, even if the bride is not her most favourite person.
As we all smile at Tina, and the girls from Lingerie start cooing over the rock that’s clinging to her finger like a fridge magnet, someone shouts, ‘Yeah, only because the diamond is the size of a sugar lump,’ at which everybody except Tina laughs. James is standing next to me. His cup is empty so I make my way over to the bench table at the far end of the canteen to find another bottle. As I turn I almost bump straight into him.
‘Looks like we had the same idea,’ he says, holding up his plastic cup. I quickly turn back to the table to wrestle the cork from the bottle. Seeing me struggling, he reaches his hand over mine and effortlessly eases the cork free. A froth of white bubbles cascades down the rim of the bottle and I suddenly feel the effects of the daytime alcohol.
‘Georgie, stay for a moment,’ James says. But our names are being called from over by the salad bar and the moment changes. For a brief second I’m not sure if I imagined the last few seconds, but when I turn around James has gone off to join the others.
‘And you will all come to my hen do, won’t you girls? It’s going to be a-mazing. Ciaran said I can have whatever I want,’ Tina smiles, gazing up at him. ‘I’ve opted for a day in the Carrington’s spa. I’ve already spoken to Caroline, the manager, and she said if the board are OK with it, then she’s happy to open up on a Sunday.’
‘Cor. Can I come?’ shouts Gareth, one of the security guys.
‘No you can’t,’ Tina snaps. ‘I’m off to get the engagement cake.’ She tilts her cheek out at Ciaran for a kiss, and he duly obliges before heading over towards me.
We’re all chatting and laughing when Tina starts descending the staircase at the end of the floor. Her spray-tanned face, which I can’t help thinking makes her look like she’s just run naked through a Ronseal factory, has a smile spread across it, but as her eyes meet mine, the smile fades ever so slightly and her eyes narrow. I quickly nudge Ciaran, who has my upturned hand in his, pretending to have inherited a palmistry gift from his old Irish granny.
There’s a huge crashing sound.