Me and Mr Carrington: A Short Story. Alexandra Brown

       Chapter One

      It’s Monday morning in Mulberry-On-Sea and to say that I’ve come down to earth with a bump would just be a massive understatement. A crash landing, more like. On this feeble excuse of a spring day, I’m about to start work in Carrington’s department store and don’t get me wrong, I love my job running the Women’s Accessories section. But it’s a trillion miles away from sunning myself beside an infinity pool on an exquisite Italian hillside, with a Parma Violet cocktail in one hand and Tom, aka hottest man alive for sure, in the other. And that’s exactly what I was doing this time last week.

      ‘Georgie! Baby cakes, I’m literally dying to know what happened next …’ Eddie pants like he’s just run a half marathon to catch up with me as I pull back the metal cage door of the staff lift and step inside.

      ‘Oh, it was just another week in paradise, you know how it is …’ I say, shrugging nonchalantly.

      ‘Well, if your post-sex glow and lack of real tan is anything to go by then you definitely went to your happy place, sprawled across the Venetian four-poster bed all week long. Dirty girl.’ Eddie follows me in to the lift, shuts the cage door and presses the button to take us up, then takes a sip of his Costa coffee before winking and giving me a saucy up-and-down look.

      ‘Stop it. Do you really have to embellish everything quite so extravagantly?’ I shake my head.

      ‘Oh, why not. Certainly livens up this boring place.’ He pulls a face.

      ‘Mulberry-On-Sea isn’t boring, it’s just … well, it’s pretty and quaint,’ I venture.

      ‘Exactly.’

      ‘And homely,’ I quickly add, but he’s not convinced. ‘And what about the new marina … All those super yachts are bound to bring a bit of glamour to the area.’

      ‘Hmm, maybe. Anyway, enough of Mulberry. I want to hear all about your fabulous adventure in Italy. I still can’t believe Tom turned up out of the blue to surprise you like that! He sure gets my vote. Swoon.’

      ‘Nothing happened. And I always use SPF 50, I’m very fair-skinned, if you really must know.’ I turn to check my brunette bob in the mottled mirror on the lift wall, wishing again that I could magic myself back in time. But I can’t. And there’s nothing more depressing than returning from a sun-soaked idyllic holiday full of fabulous moments wearing flip-flops to then shoehorn your feet back into last winter’s boots because it’s blooming raining. I brush the front of my drizzle-covered mac as if to underline the point.

      ‘Don’t be coy. Sam told me everything went to plan and Tom turned up right on cue, I just wish I’d been there to witness the look on your face. Bet you couldn’t keep your hands off him, and who can blame you? I mean, he is delicious, in a ridiculously beautiful, chiselled Henry Cavill kind of way. All messy dark curls and velvety brown eyes nestling in those extra-long dark lashes. Such a shame he isn’t gay.’ Eddie pouts. I smile at the memory – Tom in black Daniel Craig-style trunks, his naturally tanned body all solid, muscular and magnificent. His lips on mine, his fingers entwined in my hair, his cheeky grin, his divine chocolatey scent, his … Stop it. I have to get a grip. It’s the only way. I’ll pop otherwise. I’m convinced of it. Unadulterated lust that can’t be acted upon right away will do that for sure. Send me insane. ‘Such a shame he’d disappeared by the time I got there. Why didn’t he stay for the duration?’

      ‘He had a family matter to attend to in Sicily; his mother is Italian,’ I explain, trying once again to push away the nagging creep of doubt.

      ‘Hmm, so he was already en route when he decided to detour via Lake Como to bring you a cocktail by the infinity pool …?’ Eddie says, amplifying my fear that Tom turning up to surprise me wasn’t really the most