Miracle on Regent Street (38 page)

‘Oh, um, well, of course she helped,’ stutters Guy, clearly struggling to retain some glory without risking Carly’s wrath. He has no idea who did the makeover either, so it
could have been her. ‘Has she said anything?’

Rupert shakes his head. ‘I think she’s too modest.’

‘Well,’ Guy says, drawing himself up and pulling on one of his braces, ‘I couldn’t have done it without her, obviously. We, er, we make a great team. Her style, my
vision, we’re irreplaceable!’

‘If you carry on selling like you are you certainly will be, Guy,’ laughs Rupert. ‘I can’t wait to show the Board your department’s figures. Keep up the good
work!’ And he moves off, making notes on his clipboard as he passes me at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Hello, Mr Hardy,’ I say shyly, but he’s so busy scribbling he doesn’t seem to hear me.

Lily’s tearoom is full of customers as I walk in, cups are clinking, the cake stands are empty and Lily is happily purveying her territory from behind the counter.

‘Evie darling! I wondered where you’d got to this morning. I thought maybe you hadn’t made it to work after last night!’

‘I made it all right,’ I say with a grimace. ‘I just haven’t been able to escape till now, it’s been so busy.’

Suddenly I wish I’d followed Lily’s lead when it came to stopping at two drinks. She had a sip from her third when we did the toast but then refused to have any more. So, obviously I
drank it for her. Now she looks as fresh as ever, whereas I feel like something that Rupert would feed to his animals at his farm.

‘I know, fabulous isn’t it?’ Lily exclaims, her blue eyes glittering like a sun-kissed ocean. ‘Although I have to say I could do with some help in here. My legs
aren’t what they used to be and I’ve been rushed off them this morning. Luckily, I called Iris and she said she’ll come in and help me.’

I spot Iris, serving tea and tiny triangle-cut sandwiches to a couple sitting in the corner. She has a retro-print 1970s apron on over her mustard polo neck, cream chinos and a big floppy
fedora.

‘I bet she’s a wonderful assistant,’ I smile.

‘She is,’ Lily says. ‘We’ve got a great system going. I have to say, it’s rather lovely having her here, not to mention all the customers. Last night made me
realize just how lonely I’ve become, spending all day in this empty tearoom and then going back to my little flat. It’s just not how Lily Carmichael was meant to live. I’m a
people person, darling. Always was, always will be!’ She pauses and clasps my hands in hers. ‘You know, I had such fun last night. And I’m so happy Sam suggested we meet every
week. It’ll give me something to look forward to. You have no idea how lonely I’ve been . . .’

‘Oh, I think I do,’ I murmur before meeting her gaze. ‘You’re not the only one who hasn’t had much of a social life until now, you know,’ I say with a wry
smile.

‘But that’s all changing, right?’ she says, raising a thin, pencilled eyebrow. ‘Is that nice young Sam the fella you’ve been courting?’

I feel a blush rise to my cheeks. ‘Sam? No, he’s just a friend.’

Her smile fades a little. ‘Oh, I see. But I wonder if he does . . . ?’ I frown at her as I try to work out what she means. She leans in closer. ‘If I’m not much mistaken,
Sam is sweet on you, my girl,’ she says, tapping my arm with her hand.

I’m about to deny this when Iris dashes over, gives me a squeeze and delivers an order to Lily. ‘Two teas, one scone, one Chelsea bun and a plate of roast beef and horseradish
sandwiches, please, dear, and make it quick!’

‘Coming up, Iris darling!’ Lily takes Iris’s scribbled piece of paper and then turns to me. ‘Do you fancy making the teas for me?’ And she throws an apron at
me.

‘Do I have much choice?’ I reply.

She shakes her head. ‘Nope. You will get lunch on the house, though. Now come on, no time for chatting!’

By the time I’ve helped Lily and Iris through the lunchtime rush, had my sandwich and weaved my way back through the busy store, it’s been well over half an hour
since I left the stockroom. Carly isn’t happy and when I look at the stockroom, nor am I.

‘What on earth’s happened here?’ I ask as I look around at the bombsite that used to be my haven.

‘It was busy,’ snaps Carly from where she’s sitting in the middle of an aisle, surrounded by overflowing boxes. ‘You weren’t here. I did the best I could. You could
have left me some instructions; I thought you’d only be gone ten minutes.’

‘Sharon asked you to cover me for my lunch break, which is always half an hour,’ I say evenly as I bend down and start scooping up the stock to tidy it away. Seeing my neat stockroom
look like this is making me feel even more nauseous than I did before lunch. I stand up. ‘And I did offer to tell you where everything was but you told me you didn’t need me
to.’

‘Well, you should have told me anyway,’ Carly says petulantly.

‘All the aisles are clearly marked for the relevant department, and each section in the aisle is marked alphabetically with the relevant groups of items.
And
I left out the
annotated map for you. Like you said yourself, Carly, it’s not rocket science.’

‘Oh, well, you’re back now,’ she says brightly. ‘I guess I should go and see what’s going on with my staff on the shop floor. Who knows what they’ll be up to
without their manager around.’

‘Aren’t you going to help me clear up this mess?’

‘Oh, no, I’ve got far more important things to do. Besides, you’re the expert here. See you, honey!’

And Carly swoops out of the stockroom without a backward glance, leaving me surrounded by her chaos.

‘S
he is driving me mad!’

‘Who does she think she is?’

‘That promotion has gone straight to her head!’

‘Rupert’s an idiot if he doesn’t see it . . .’

‘. . . She didn’t do the makeovers, no way!’

‘She doesn’t know what she’s doing!’

It’s 5 p.m. and I’ve finally managed to leave for the day. The store has quietened down with just a few straggling customers wandering through the ground floor. A group of staff is
clustered by the perfume counter, talking about Carly. They don’t notice me quietly joining them at the back.

‘I just can’t stand the way she speaks to me,’ says Elaine. ‘She’s a complete nightmare to work with. And she hasn’t got a clue what she’s
doing.’

There is a murmur of agreement.

‘I don’t think that’s fair,’ says Paula from Personal Shopping, valiantly defending her old colleague. ‘She was a brilliant personal stylist. Tamsin and I miss her
up there – as do all the customers.’

‘Well, you can have her back then,’ grumbles Elaine. ‘It’ll get her out of my hair. Anyway, unlike pretty much every other department in this bloody place, Designers is
quieter now than before the makeover. That’s why I don’t believe she’s responsible for the others.’

‘So who is?’ pipes up Becky. ‘And by the way, if it’s any of you lot can I request my department be the next on the list? I’ve become a glorified beauty assistant
because my department is still so quiet.’

‘You’re a very good beauty assistant, though,’ says Jenny, kindly.

‘Thanks, Jen,’ Becky sighs. ‘I just think I need to prove that I can do my job. Rupert was sniffing around today and he didn’t seem very pleased. He and Sharon kept
muttering together, but that woman’s voice is so loud I could hear what they were saying. According to them if I don’t get my act together, I’ll be out of a job before the New
Year.’

I take a sharp breath and vow to make over Becky’s department next.

‘Don’t you worry,’ says Susan from Haberdashery, and Bernie nods in agreement. ‘We’ll stick up for you. You’re a very good saleswoman, you just need some help
with merchandising.’

‘I know,’ Becky wails. ‘I just don’t know how to make a load of brown and black handbags look nice.’ Everyone nods sympathetically.

‘I just wish we knew who was doing the makeovers,’ says Gwen.

‘Do you think it’s Sharon?’ Paula says. ‘She’s the most experienced.’

‘Nah, she’s as bemused as the rest of us,’ says Tamsin.

‘What about Rupert?’ Becky suggests.

Everyone laughs. ‘He wouldn’t have a clue,’ Tamsin scoffs. ‘Numbers and farm animals are his things, not visual merchandising.’

‘Guy?’

‘No.’

‘How about Jane?’

There is a pause, everyone looks around, but Jane is nowhere to be seen. I actually saw her leaving hand in hand with Stuart about five minutes before. They were off for some romantic pre-dinner
drinks. Jane told me that they’re dating like some new couple, not an old married one. She seems utterly blissful.

‘Could be,’ says Elaine thoughtfully. ‘Have you seen how fab she looks all of a sudden? Like some 1950s siren! Maybe she’s into all this old-fashioned stuff and has been
secretly doing the makeovers.’

There is nodding and quiet deliberation whilst more names are thrown up for discussion. Every name, in fact, except for mine.

It don’t know whether to be relieved or offended.

I slip away as they continue to deliberate who Hardy’s Secret Elf is.

The street is flooded with bright orange light from the old Victorian streetlamps outside the store. And suddenly the screen on my phone is flooded with light too.

‘Joel!’ I answer immediately, unable to hide the pleasure in my voice.

‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he drawls. ‘I’ve missed you today. How’s work been?’

‘Oh, you know, same old same old,’ I reply obliquely, hoping he won’t expect any more details.

It’s one thing to pretend to be someone I’m not, but I’m trying to make things as uncomplicated as possible. As much as I’m relishing my time with Joel, I know that it
can’t go on forever. Either he will discover that I’m just a lowly stockroom girl and will never want to see me again, or he won’t find that out, things will go on being as
wonderful as they are, and then he will want to get closer to me than I can let him. You know, meet my family and friends, introduce me to his, and obviously that can never happen. Ultimately
it’s a no-win situation but I’m trying not to let that thought cast a shadow over everything, because for the time being I want to wallow in this imaginary world where I am a girl like
Carly with a gorgeous man and a fabulous job. I know it can’t last, but the prospect of going back to my old life, to the old me just yet, doesn’t bear thinking about. So all I can do
is block out any thoughts of what will happen when Joel finds out who I really am and focus on the here and now.

Joel and me, together, alone. With no one else around who could spoil it. Is that too much to ask?

‘I hear you,’ Joel laughs, his voice as rich and warm as a cup of Java coffee. ‘Sometimes work just feels like one long groundhog day. I have to say, right now, I wish that I
could just pack up and go back to Willow Grove and work in the store.’

I gulp as my heart plummets. ‘You’re not going to, though, are you?’ I say quietly.

‘No,’ he sighs. ‘Too much business here. But it won’t be long. My flight is booked for Boxing Day.’

A silence falls between us.

‘That’s little more than two weeks away,’ I say at last.

‘I know,’ he murmurs, ‘that’s why I want to make the most of every moment with you.’

I feel a flood of joy and then despair as it occurs to me what this really is. I’m just a holiday romance, a convenient distraction while Joel’s in London. He’s settled for me
because I’m at his disposal; he can use me for now and then get rid of me when he’s done here. Just like Jamie did.

‘You could come back with me,’ he says hopefully, and suddenly I feel ashamed. Have I got him all wrong?

‘That’s crazy,’ I say, immediately dismissing the idea as I imagine he hoped I would. Wrong again.

‘Why?’ he laughs. ‘What’s so crazy about visiting your boyfriend over the festive season and meeting his family?’

Boyfriend.

‘Boyfriend,’ I say aloud, disguising my joy with a gentle tease in my voice. ‘Is that what you are?’

‘I hope so,’ Joel replies. ‘I know it’s not been very long . . .’

‘You’re right, it hasn’t,’ I say softly. ‘And you live in a different country, and I . . .’

And I’m not who you think I am.