Page 10 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘Do you like Christmas, Elle?’
For a moment there’s silence in the room as I confirm with my brain that is what Estelle has actually just asked.
‘Er … yes, I guess so.’ I lie for the first time since I arrived.
Estelle stares at me with even more focus. ‘You guess so?’
‘I mean, who doesn’t?’ I try. ‘Everyone likes Christmas, right?’
Estelle looks across at Angela.
Angela simply shrugs.
‘I mean,’ I say, suddenly seeing this opportunity slipping away from me if I don’t do something fast. ‘Look at your beautiful tree there – it’s the spirit of Christmas, isn’t it.’
‘Indeed it is.’ Estelle looks at the tree with pride. ‘It’s my favourite time of the year when the tree is finally all decorated and lit up. It brings back so many memories for me seeing it glowing with so much happiness and joy.’
‘And that is why I promised to do it later for you, didn’t I?’ Angela raises her eyebrows at Estelle. ‘But it’s such a big tree,’ she says turning to me. ‘Takes me bloomin’ ages to decorate it every year.’
‘I could help you if you like?’ I offer, hoping this act of kindness might seal the deal for me. ‘If I get the job, of course.’ I look back at Estelle hopefully.
This may be the craziest job I’ve ever applied for, but strangely, I find myself wanting it more than any other job I’ve ever gone for. There’s something about the square, and this house, and the people who live in it, that I really like, and I want to spend more time getting to know them.
‘I don’t think we need to discuss it any further,’ Estelle says abruptly, and I think I’ve pushed it too far. ‘If agreeable to you, you can start tomorrow, and your first task, Elle, if you’re still willing, is to help us to decorate our Christmas tree.’
Three
Bloomsbury,London
19 December 2018
After Owen leaves for work, I emerge from his spare room and begin to pack up my belongings from the flat I called home for the last two years. The flat was Owen’s before I moved in, so most of the furnishings belong to him. It’s quite sad when I realise how little I’d put my stamp on the place in the time I lived here. But that was a bit like our relationship. It revolved for the majority of time around him and his life.How had I ever let myself get into that situation?
If it wasn’t for Estelle, I’d now be homeless, jobless, with no one to turn to. Nearly everything in my life, including my friends, were Owen’s first. So now we aren’t a couple any more, I realise just what an unhealthy and unbalanced relationship it was.
As I post the key back through the letterbox, I make a pact with myself never to get into this sort of mess again. From now on I will look after me, and not worry about anyone else, not until I get back on my feet again.
Even though I leave the flat with minimal possessions, this time I have no choice but to take a taxi to Mistletoe Square – there are just too many bags and suitcases to even consider attempting the Tube. But now I know I am going to be earning some money again, I don’t feel quite so worried about the expense. Last night, after I agreed to take the job, Estelle and I ran through a few of the finer details, such as my fee. It’s not the highest paid job I’ve ever done, but since I’m getting free meals and board thrown in, I’m more than happy with the terms she offered.
My taxi driver, wearing a festive Santa hat, looks decidedly un-jolly when he pulls up next to all my luggage on the pavement. But he soon cheers up at the end of my journey, when we unload all my luggage and I give him a good tip and wish him a Merry Christmas as he pulls away from the square.
With Angela’s help, I haul all my cases and bags up the steps outside the house and then up a further flight of stairs inside, to my promised lodgings on the first floor.
‘This do for you?’ Angela asks as we move the last of my things into one of the rooms.
‘It’s wonderful,’ I gush, still hardly believing I’ve fallen on this sort of luck.
I’ve been given two rooms on the first floor – a bedroom containing some enormous, heavy pieces of antique furniture, including a large double bed, chest of drawers, wardrobe and dressing table, and a pretty sitting room, with a fireplace, chintz sofa and, by the window looking out over the square, an ornate oak writing desk. Just along the landing there is a small bathroom for me to use – again with period fittings.
‘Glad you like it. The bathroom is all yours. I have my own rooms upstairs and Estelle keeps herself on the ground floor now she struggles to climb the stairs.’
‘Have you worked here long?’ I ask, keen to know a little more about the people I’m going to be living with. Today, Angela is wearing an outfit that evokes the 1950s. Her auburn hair is tied into a high ponytail with a white ribbon, and on her bottom half she’s wearing a full skirt with a red-and-white poodle pattern, matched with a red polo-neck sweater. On top of this she wears another bright kitchen apron.
‘Long enough,’ Angela says briefly. ‘Me and Estelle go way back.’
‘Really?’
‘I’m sure we’ll tell you all about it sometime. Now, I’ll leave you to get settled in. Lunch will be at one o’clock sharp. It’s homemade chicken soup and freshly baked bread – is that all right with you?’ She looks me up and down thoughtfully. ‘You’re not one of those vegan types, are you?’
