Page 7 of Love like the (Real) Reel Thing
“Yeah.” Emily grinned. “I wasn’t sure I’d get away with it, but as long as it’s not purple or something I think I’m good.”
“So, how’s the new job?”
Emily turned to greet a couple of guests who were strolling through the foyer, then waited until they were of earshot.
“It’s everything, Jess.” She gestured to the high-collared white blouse and floor-length navy skirt, which managed to make her look even taller and more slender than she was. “Even the uniform’s a bit of fun! It’s like getting into a role. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for putting in a word for me.”
“Country life isn’t too quiet?” Jess grinned.
Emily hesitated, then shook her head. “I heard you’re gonna be here for a few weeks?”
“Six weeks – just while the film is being made.”
Emily nodded. “Now, Mr Neary said to put you in the Lady Helen suite when you arrived. It’ll only be until Friday, but you might as well enjoy a bit of luxury, right?”
“Wow, nice! Three days in a five-star hotel suite!” And completely on her own. The thought of being able to do whatever she wanted or nothing at all, without having to answer to anyone, made her feel a bit giddy.
“Right, and you don’t believe all that haunted-room stuff, sure you don’t?”
“Haunted-room stuff? You mean it’s the …”
“The Bridal Suite, yeah. We renamed it after the celebrity wedding.” Emily frowned. “Had you forgotten?”
“Jess, lovely to see you!” Anthony Neary’s voice boomed across the foyer.
Jess turned to see him striding towards her. Anthony was in his mid-fifties, He was tall and broad, with just a hint of a belly under his tailor-made, three-piece suit.
“You just got here? Has Emily been telling you about your suite?” He reached her and grasped her hand in his. “Are you hungry? I was just about to have a spot of lunch in the orangery and I took the liberty of ordering enough for two. But there’s no pressure if you’d just prefer a coffee or something”
“Actually ...” Jess glanced at her watch, “lunch sounds great. Just something simple, though.”
Jess said goodbye to Emily and turned to listen to Anthony as they walked towards the east wing.
“We’ve ten rooms occupied at the moment, but the last three parties will check out on Friday. And we’ll have your cottageready by then too. It’s right on the main street – belonged to a relative of one of our staff, would you believe?”
“So I heard,” Jess murmured. “You’re very good to organise this, Anthony, I really appreciate it.”
“Not at all. With Ian in Australia, you’re doing me a favour. I haven’t forgotten how you pulled our celebrity wedding out of the fire last year. Stroke of genius!”
“It was nothing, really.” Jess managed a light laugh. “Anyone would have done the same.” Especially if they’d helped the bride to escape in the first place. She was so grateful to Ian for keeping her secret. He’d saved her reputation and her job.
“I don’t think you’ve been here since we restored our Whispering Gallery?” Anthony said. “We had to replace the floor, but we were careful to replicate it, minus all the creaking joints, of course. You should give it a try – it’s great fun.”
“I will.” Jess could visualise the small, elliptical gallery that ran around the back of Linford’s Great Hall, its unique curvature allowing even whispered conversations at one end to be overheard at the other.
They reached the orangery and Anthony held the door as Jess stepped inside. The late nineteenth-century extension to the castle was as beautiful as she remembered, its high glass ceiling filtering sun onto the wicker chairs and marble-top tables, grouped among carefully cultivated indoor trees and tall, leafy plants in huge, stone pots on a tiled floor.
“We’ve opened some of the skylights for you.” Anthony gestured to the openings all across the domed ceiling. “I remember Ian saying you’ve a bit of a pollen allergy.”
He led her to a table laid out for lunch and rang a discreet bell. Moments later, a young woman – dressed similarly to Emily, but with a long apron over her ankle-length dress – brought out a silver trolley laden with sandwiches and other small savouries,some tiny desserts, pots of tea and coffee, and carafes of still and sparkling water.
Jess blinked. “Holly?”
“Jess!” Holly went bright red. “I mean – ma’am.”
Jess glanced at Anthony, whose only reaction was a raised eyebrow.
“No, please, I asked you to call me Jess, remember?” Nothing wrong with a small white lie. She’d got to know Holly the previous year, and was very fond of her.
