Calling Mrs Christmas Page 24

  While the lads unloaded the boot of the car, Jim rang the doorbell. Carter’s assistant, Georgina, opened the door to let them in.

  ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Welcome to Randall Court.’

  ‘Hi,’ Jim said and felt too tongue-tied to continue the conversation. Smudge and Rozzer just gaped.

  He was glad – so glad – that the lads had been allowed the privilege of wearing their own clothes today. They were both dressed reasonably smartly in jeans, albeit those ridiculous ones with the crotch down by the knees, fairly inoffensive T-shirts and fleece hoodies. They looked as if they had attitude but not necessarily a criminal record. It made Jim think that if they did this again next year, maybe they should have a basic company uniform. Or perhaps he’d just spent too much of his working life in uniform to be able to give it up easily.

  Once inside the entrance hall they were all even more overawed. Cassie had described this to him, but he hadn’t actually taken in just how opulent everything would be. The tree that she’d already decorated towered above them, looking utterly spectacular. Now he was firmly convinced that their handiwork wouldn’t be up to the mark. As far as he was concerned, they might as well just pack up their bags and go home this minute.

  ‘Have you got everything you need?’ Georgina asked them.

  ‘I think so.’ Leave, leave now, his brain was telling him.

  ‘I’ll send you some tea?’

  ‘That would be very nice. Thank you.’

  ‘I’m in the office at the back of the house. Call or text me if you need me.’ She left them to get started.

  Jim blew out a slightly dazed breath. ‘Wow.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Rozzer said.

  ‘Language,’ Jim reminded him. ‘Right, lads, where do we start?’

  They all scratched their heads.

  ‘This is one big fuck-off mansion, Jim,’ Rozzer noted. ‘Sorry, but it is.’

  Jim had to agree that there was no better description.

  Rozzer picked up an ornament from the nearby side table. It was some piece of modern sculpture that could be a man curled over or a wave. Even though Jim couldn’t quite make out what it was, he knew that it was probably hideously expensive.

  ‘Please don’t touch anything that looks breakable,’ Jim said. ‘And please don’t steal anything.’

  ‘What do you think we are?’ Rozzer said, offended.

  Jim lowered his voice. ‘I think you’re impressionable lads on day release from the local young offenders’ unit.’

  ‘Oh,’ Rozzer said, putting down the sculpture. ‘I suppose you have a point.’

  ‘Look,’ Jim said. ‘I’m ten years a prison officer and even I’m tempted to nick something.’

  ‘We’re not thieves.’

  ‘Technically, you are,’ Jim countered. ‘I know that you’re trying very hard to turn it all around and you’re doing brilliantly, but old habits die hard. All I’m asking is that you think about me, think about Cassie’s business. Don’t do anything stupid. Today is the day you prove yourselves to me.’

  ‘We won’t let you down, Jim,’ Rozzer said. ‘You can count on us.’

  ‘We won’t touch nothing,’ Smudge agreed, having finally found his voice again. ‘I swear on my mother’s life.’

  ‘Good lads.’

  ‘Do we have to call you Santa today, Jim?’

  That made them all laugh. ‘Not today, Smudge. Only when I’ve got the gear on.’ Jim looked up at the tree. ‘That’s what we’ve got to match up to, lads. Think we’ve got the ability?’

  Rozzer and Smudge shrugged. ‘We can give it a go, Santa… Jim.’

  ‘We’ll unpack the boxes, lay out what we’ll need. I’ve got Cassie’s rough plan here.’ He pulled out a sheaf of papers on which Cassie had sketched out her vision for the garlands that were to twine round the banister and drape over the mantelpiece. There were also a dozen different flower arrangements in vases to do. ‘We’ll finish that banister first so that we can copy the way Cassie’s done it.’ Jim had to admit that it looked amazing. A hard task lay ahead of them. ‘Let’s take our time. Go slowly. Stick closely to Cassie’s design. Get it right. Any problems, let’s stop and work it through.’

  The lads did as they were told without complaint. They all worked together to thread the garland of artificial green foliage through the banister according to Cassie’s master plan. Then they added the decorations, lime, cerise and purple baubles, interspersed with bows and little boxes wrapped like presents, as highlights. To think that a few weeks ago he hadn’t even known half these words, let alone imagined himself doing festive flower arrangements.

  He looked up at the lads. Both were frowning with concentration. Smudge’s tongue stuck out to the side as he tried to attach a bow to the garland. Jim smiled to himself.

  An elderly lady arrived with a tray of tea and biscuits for them. No mugs here, it was all served on fine bone china. ‘That looks pretty,’ she said. ‘Nice job, boys.’

  ‘Take a breather for five minutes, lads,’ he told Rozzer and Smudge.

  The lady stood for a moment to admire their handiwork.

  ‘Does it look any different to the rest of the banister?’ Jim asked.

  She studied it closely and then shook her head. ‘No. It looks just the same to me. Very pretty.’

  ‘You’ve made my day, love,’ he said. ‘Thanks.’

  That gave him the impetus to believe in himself and press on. This was going better than he could possibly have hoped. Cassie would get such a surprise when she came home.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  We’re just finishing up our breakfast when Jan appears. Minutes later and he drives two snowmobiles out of one of the bigger outhouses. The children go crazy as soon as they see them and can’t wait to be outside, so there’s a mad scramble to climb into their outdoor clothing.

  Carter and I help them. We haven’t talked much this morning and I wonder if he feels he said too much last night. For my part, I stayed awake into the small hours, my mind whirring. I love Jim, I really do, but there’s something about Carter that’s very hard to ignore. He seems both powerful and vulnerable at the same time and it’s a heady cocktail. On top of that, he’s handsome and fun. Our talk made me wonder what I’m doing with my life, where Jim and I are going. I sigh and push these thoughts out of my mind.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Carter asks.

  I didn’t realise he was so close to me. ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Just a busy brain.’

  ‘Who’s holding up the business for you while you’re away?’

  ‘Jim.’ I hope.

  ‘It’s good of you to come away with us, particularly in your key time and with a new business. It was a big ask.’

  ‘I’m just pleased that I could come. I’d love to organise more trips like this and it’s given me a great insight.’

  It’s also given me an insight into how the other half live and I’m not sure that is so great. My little two-roomed flat in Hemel Hempstead is going to be something of a let-down after all this.

  ‘You’ve done a great job,’ he says. ‘I won’t hesitate to recommend you.’

  ‘Thank you. That’s nice to know.’

  I wonder if Carter is trying to steer us back onto safer ground by talking about business. Perhaps he’s regretting our closeness last night. I know that I should be. This holiday is a job and I don’t want to let my professionalism slip.

  Still, there’s plenty to do today. I’ve already packed our suitcases again as that was our last night in the wilderness lodge and we’re moving on. Someone will come to collect the cases and take them to our next destination. Tonight, we’re going to be sleeping in the world-famous Icehotel. I can’t wait to see it. Every year, the whole thing is built with snow and blocks of ice cut from the river, to open up in time for Christmas. Then, in March, it melts back into the landscape again.

  I make sure that the kids have on plenty of clothes. You can get quite hot while running around outside, even in these extreme low temperatures, b
ut for a good few hours this morning we’re going to be sitting still on snowmobiles and it’s certainly not getting any warmer out there. I start to struggle into my suit and Carter, instantly, is right there.

  ‘Here, let me help.’ He moves closer to me and I feel myself flush with warmth.

  As much as I’d like to ignore it, I can tell that there’s been a distinct shift in the relationship between us. After our long chat last night in the hot tub, we’re much more aware of each other. It’s as if there’s a crackle of electricity around us both and, believe me, it’s very disconcerting. Carter’s fingers linger a little longer as he helps me into my suit and, although I’m wearing more clothing than I ever have, I can feel every touch as if he’s searing me. His hands rest on my shoulders as he appraises my outfit.

  ‘Looking good, Mrs Christmas,’ he says, a smile in his eyes. Seems that he’s not being businesslike at all.

  I have to gulp before I can speak. ‘Thank you.’ Oh, Lord, help me.

  Before I melt into a puddle in the lodge, I turn my attention back to the children.

  ‘Ready, guys?’

  Max and Eve are bouncing just as much as the huskies were yesterday. They’re wide-eyed with excitement when we finally get outside. The sun is high in the sky, making the vast expanses of snow glitter enticingly, but the day is colder than ever before. The mercury in the thermometer is still registering a mind-numbingly cold minus twenty-five degrees. Inhaling is positively painful and we’ll all need to wear full-face balaclavas to protect our cheeks from the wind-chill factor. However, the scenery ahead of us is magical and it would be hard to equal the sheer exhilaration of being out here in the cold.

  Jan fits us all with our safety helmets and then we’re ready to rock. We’re heading to the Icehotel on our snowmobiles to spend the last night of our trip there. The last night. I can hardly believe that I’m saying that as it feels as if we’ve only just arrived. Yet, already, we’ve managed to pack in so much.

  I can feel the excitement building inside me and the children can hardly stand still, they’re so hyper. Carter and I climb onto our separate snowmobiles. Thankfully, the handlebars and our seats are heated, providing a degree of comfort that is very much appreciated. Eve tucks in behind me, arms clinging tightly around my waist. I look over my shoulder to check that she’s all right. ‘OK?’

  She nods. From his own snowmobile Carter looks towards me and gives me the thumbs-up. With a steadying breath, I release the throttle and we’re off, slowly at first until we’re used to the speed. The steering is vague, like trying to manoeuvre a shopping trolley with wonky wheels. After a few hair-raising minutes I’m soon happily following Jan along the snowy tracks, dodging the low-hanging tree branches, something we’ve so quickly become accustomed to.

  Because we’re powered by petrol today, we can climb higher into the hills, the snowmobiles scooting along at a terrific pace. This is fantastic fun. From the way that Carter and Max are whooping ahead of us, I can only assume that they feel the same. Eve is clinging on tightly, arms wrapped round my waist, and I keep looking back to check that she’s OK. But I needn’t worry as she’s loving every minute of it.

  We’re so high up now that we’ve left everything behind but beautiful trees almost overwhelmed with snow, their branches weighed down to the ground. It feels as if we’re in our own magical little bubble. There’s nothing here to touch us, nothing to trouble us.

  Jan stops us after a little while, opens the back of his machine and retrieves two thermos flasks that contain hot lingonberry juice – which, if you ask me, tastes exactly like Ribena. We clutch our cups gratefully and enjoy the hot drink. I look out over the vast, empty landscape. All you can see for miles are snow-laden firs and frozen lakes. The sky is so blue, the snow so white, that to take it all in hurts the eyes.

  Eve and Max, having finished their drinks, chase each other through the deep drifts. Carter comes to stand next to me and gazes out over the hills. ‘This is just beautiful. Awe-inspiring.’

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘It is.’

  He turns to me, face serious, and sighs as he says, ‘I feel happier than I have in a long time, Cassie Christmas.’

  My throat constricts again when I answer, ‘Me too.’

  I thought this job would be about wrapping presents, writing cards, decorating Christmas trees. That was as far as my ambition took me. But then I hadn’t quite banked on meeting Carter Randall.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Jim worked all day. It was a full-on shift. There were two gang fights, a dirty protest and a fellow prison officer – a new guy – was caught smuggling in drugs. The latter wasn’t uncommon, but when it happened it always left a sour taste in the mouth. He’d seemed like a solid bloke too. All in all a pretty average day in Bovingdale Young Offenders’ Unit.

  He was exhausted when he left at the end of his shift. Not only did he feel like shit, but he smelled like it too. They always wore full coveralls, masks and gloves to clean down a cell, but the stench stayed with you for hours. He no longer retched constantly when they had to do a scrub, but it was never going to be anyone’s favourite job. He always thought that they should make the filthy bastards who pulled this sort of stunt clean it up themselves. Then they might be less likely to smear their own shit up the walls.

  The very first thing he needed to do when he got back to the flat was shower and change, get the stink of the unit out of his nostrils. Hopefully, it would liven him up too. He was exhausted. If he was honest, he wasn’t sleeping all that well without Cassie in the bed. He found he was chasing himself around, getting tangled in the sheets. Normally, they slept like spoons, hooking their feet together. It seemed strange to spend the night alone. It hadn’t helped that he’d been up half the night, watching flipping flower-arranging clips on YouTube. Having made such a great job of the garland on the banister and then the mantelpiece, he didn’t want to let himself down by making a complete arse of the vases – which were the last thing left to do downstairs. He’d been on earlies, so had started at seven, but it meant that he was finished by three. It gave him a good few hours to switch hats and get stuck into the Christmas decorations.

  Upstairs, all they had to do were the children’s bedrooms. It was a tough call to get it all done in one evening, but the lads had proved that they could work well and, as long as he supervised them closely, Jim could see no reason why they couldn’t manage to do it all.

  The good news from the governor was that both lads were to be released early on licence. Such was the strain on the system that the unit was usually glad to see the back of prisoners to make room for the next wave. It meant that Rozzer and Smudge would both have to wear electronic tags to serve out the rest of their sentence, but they’d be coming out together, which was a result. All he had to do now was find accommodation for Smudge. And quickly.

  Jim signed out the lads and escorted them to his car. They were chattery, hyper, a bit punchy, but it was probably due to their having been in lock-down in their cells for most of the day. Or they might just have been happy to be due out of Bovingdale for good. Whichever way, Jim kept quiet and let them burn it out of their systems before they went up to Randall Court.

  It had started to snow. A few half-hearted watery flakes splashed onto the car park. The snow probably wouldn’t settle but even so it would still send the country into a flat spin. He hoped that Cassie’s plane wouldn’t be delayed. She was meant to be home tomorrow and, for him, it couldn’t come round soon enough. He’d missed her like crazy all the time she’d been away.

  ‘Where is it that Cassie’s gone?’ Rozzer asked, breaking into his musing.

  ‘Swedish Lapland,’ Jim said.

  ‘Oh.’ They didn’t sound any the wiser. It was only because he’d looked it up on Google Earth last night that he had any idea himself. On the map it seemed a very long way from anywhere. Also, the weather report said that the temperatures were extremely low.