Page 35 of Cooking Up a Christmas Storm (Highland Cookery School #2)
Before Jodie could put any flesh on that plan there was the small matter of not one, but two separate sets of Christmas light switch-ons to deal with. Both of which she seemed to be responsible for organising, and both of which were rapidly merging in her increasingly confused Gemma/Jodie brain.
She checked the notes in her phone.
McKenzie – Saturday afternoon, Jay from Redd Level, elf costume,
overpriced mulled wine.
Lowbridge – Sunday. White lights – unless Anna goes rogue. Carols.
Candles and lanterns for walkers? No celeb – Anna is definitely still
expecting Elton John.
Today was Saturday. Her elf suit was hanging on the back of her bedroom door.
Darcy had threatened to pour black paint over it, but Jodie had pointed out that that was most likely to get her fired and then they’d have no access to what the McKenzie lot were up to.
Looking at the corporate McKenzie purple tartan monstrosity, Jodie wished she’d let Darcy do her worst.
She folded the costume neatly into a bag and headed outside to meet her lift.
Since the first night Pavel’d driven her home Jodie hadn’t mentioned the kiss that wasn’t in the ballroom, or the second kiss that wasn’t in the van.
She’d thought about both of them. A lot.
When she was alone. When she was supposed to be talking about work with Fiona.
When she was supposed to be talking about work with Bella.
And every day for the forty minutes in the morning and the forty minutes at night she spent sitting next to Pavel Stone watching the way his forearms tensed slightly when she leaned closer to him.
‘Are you working today? It’s Saturday.’ Jodie would have expected the building work to be suspended for the weekend.
‘Wasn’t planning to, but Fiona marched over at five o’clock yesterday and announced that the building site needed to be tidy before the lights switch-on.’
‘Tidy?’
Pavel nodded.
‘But it’s a building site?’
‘Apparently today it needs to be a pristine and festive building site. She kept saying that Mr McKenzie wanted things just so.’
Jodie almost growled at the mention of the big boss’s name.
‘You’re not a fan?’
‘I am not.’ She squeezed her thumbnail into her palm and breathed deeply for a second. ‘He’s a bully. I know men like that. There’s only one way to treat them.’
‘Knee to the balls?’
Pavel’s deadpan suggestion relieved some of the tension in her body. ‘It’d be a start.’
Saira was absent from reception when Jodie signed in and made her way past Fiona’s office and on to the open-plan area where she had a desk. Saira was standing at the printer, eyebrows knitted together. ‘You OK there?’
Saira jumped slightly at the sound of her voice. ‘Sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.’
‘Printer playing up again?’
‘Yeah. No. It’s fine. I better get back.’ Saira scurried away.
Something in the back of Jodie’s brain tingled. Was Saira acting strangely? Jodie went over to the printer. The lights were on but the screen was blank. She powered it off and on again and waited for it to sputter back into life. The screen finally lit up. No pending jobs . Damn.
‘Morning, Jodie.’
Jodie turned back to greet her boss. ‘Hi, Fi. How are you?’ She asked the question before she’d seen Fiona’s face. She looked pale, her usual glossy make-up absent and her hair was scraped into a messy ponytail rather than twisted and pinned into its usual perfect chignon.
‘I’m fine.’ Fiona smiled glassily. ‘Absolutely fine. Very excited for this afternoon.’
‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Jodie moved forward and touched Fiona’s arm. ‘You can tell me if there’s something you need to talk about.’
There was a pause before Fiona answered. ‘What would I need to talk about? Everything’s great.’
‘OK. Well, I’m here if you need anything.’
‘What I need is for the lights switch-on to go without a hitch.’ Fiona nodded sharply. ‘John has very high standards, you know. It’s very motivating, isn’t it?’
Motivating wasn’t the word Jodie would have chosen.
The schedule for the afternoon was packed.
Father Christmas – a top Father Christmas, according to Fiona, who used to do Jenners in Edinburgh, before it closed – would be in his grotto supported by his faithful elves from noon, and then the grotto would close at four p.m. and everyone would gather around the Christmas tree to see Jay from Redd Level sing a festive medley and then press the button to start the lights.
Then there would be fireworks to close the event.
Jodie changed into her elf suit in Fiona’s office, turning in front of the window to try to check her reflection in the outfit.
She half-laughed to herself as she realised it was yet another costume.
Jodie pretending to be Gemma was now Jodie pretending to be Gemma pretending to be Jodie pretending to be an elf.
It sounded every bit as ridiculous as she looked.
Once she was dressed, Fiona ran through the schedule with Jodie for the seventieth time. ‘And don’t let Saira bother Jay from Redd Level. She’s got a tour T-shirt from about nineteen ninety-eight under her desk. I know she’s going to ask him to sign it.’
Jodie frowned. ‘Saira’s only about twenty.’
Fiona shook her head gloomily. ‘I think it’s for her mum.
’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Right, you two better go and get ready. Father Christmas is already down there. And remember only one present per child, and match the colour of the wrapping to the token the parent gives you. That tells you whether they’ve paid for the gold or platinum packages. ’
‘Not whether the kid’s been naughty or nice?’ Jodie joked.
‘If Daddy paid for platinum the kid can be a total shit. They still get the good present.’
Wow. Capitalism had really taken hold at the North Pole.
The grotto had been set up in the small conference room, which had been vigorously transformed by Fiona’s team of interior visualisation experts.
Jodie couldn’t help but wonder what the Lowbridge equivalent would be.
Probably her and Flinty balancing on a ladder enthusiastically stapling bits of ivy to anything that stayed still long enough.
The McKenzie approach was different. The conference centre, right from the entrance, had been transformed.
Visitors were enveloped in a snow-covered wonderland.
There were miniature village scenes set up along the walls, with figures skiing, drinking glühwein and roasting chestnuts.
In the grotto itself, Santa was seated on a red-and-gold throne, next to a perfectly trimmed and lit Christmas tree, surrounded by sacks of beautifully wrapped gifts.
And then children and their families left via a larger room where there was a full train set displayed as the train to the Pole, and stalls where parents could be pressured into spending more money on sweets and treats for their little darlings.
Christmas at the McKenzie estate was a well-oiled money-making machine.
The first few kids were exactly as Jodie would have imagined.
Variously adorable, enthusiastic, shy and overtired.
Santa, showing his fancy big-city experience, was charming and avuncular with them all.
Saira showed the children in, and Jodie handed Santa the appropriate gift and showed the little darlings and their mummies and daddies out again, with a clear direction to the stall where they could purchase their souvenir image of their little prince or princess sitting on Santa’s knee.
After an hour or so, the routine changed and the next group was shown in by Fiona herself.
She smiled at the little girl and pointed her towards Santa before grasping Jodie by the elbow and pulling her out of mum’s earshot.
‘Local competition winners,’ she hissed.
‘John will expect them to get the cheapest present.’ Fiona looked down at her shoes. ‘I did ask if… never mind.’
Jodie nodded and waited until Fiona had stepped out.
The little girl was regaling Santa with a long story about how she had been going to ask for a pony but a lady from Americaland who lived in a princess castle had said she could have rides on her pony so now she didn’t need to ask for one of her own.
Jodie bit back a smile of recognition. Darcy would have all the village children riding at Lowbridge if she could.
Santa nodded gravely and agreed that ponies were a lot of work to look after and that probably staying at the princess castle would be the best option for them. ‘I’m sure we do have a present for you today though. Shall we see what my lovely elf has got for you?’
The presents for those children whose parents – horror of horrors – had only paid the basic entry fee were in red wrapping.
Then there was a gold level and a platinum level.
They’d only had one platinum customer so far, and there was a platinum gift right on the top of the pile.
Who was to say Jodie hadn’t made a little mistake?
She picked up the silver-and-blue-wrapped gift and handed it to Santa. She was sure she saw him smile slightly. ‘Here you go, Betty.’ He looked up at mum. ‘And I hope you both have a very Happy Christmas. Before you go, why don’t you take a quick pic of Betty with Santa on your phone?’
Jodie saw mum glance at the No Photography sign above Santa’s head. ‘It’s fine. It’s his grotto, his rules,’ she said.
‘Thank you.’
Jodie caught Father Christmas’ eye again as she closed the door behind Betty and her mum. ‘Do you know how much those platinum tickets cost?’
Jodie shook her head.
‘Eight hundred quid.’
‘What?’
‘I think we just gave Betty an Xbox.’
Jodie shook her head. ‘I thought it would be like thirty quid or something. Who pays that much to take their kid to see Santa?’
He shrugged. ‘Mostly people who already have an Xbox I should think. She’ll appreciate it more.’
‘I am going to get fired.’
‘Blame me if they try. I only still do this for the fun of seeing the little ones happy.’