Page 23 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

I straightened my pale-pink pyjama top and explained I’d spoken to my mother and she and Orla were going to take on the lion’s share of duties in Christmas Crackers until its closure. I had also rung Vivian, who sounded almost as delighted as I did about my new role. I think underneath it all, the poor woman felt somehow guilty that she was going to be heading off to the States for a new life, while I wasn’t going to have Christmas Crackers after all and was staring down unemployment. She, too, insisted I accept the ‘wonderful’ job offer and said that she would make sure she was around if needed by Mum and Orla.

I relayed this to Max. ‘That’s excellent,’ he boomed down the line. ‘But we meant what we said earlier, Lottie. If you need to dash off to attend to something important with the shop, just let us know. We don’t want you to feel you are being pulled in two directions. We know how much Christmas Crackers means to you.’

‘Thank you,’ I breathed. ‘That’s much appreciated.’

I caught sight of my reflection in my wardrobe mirrors as I sat on the edge of my bed. Thank goodness this wasn’t a Zoom call. My pyjamas were rumpled and my hair was exploding in a dark-brown mass down my back.

‘So, Lottie, we were wondering if you would be able to attend a meeting at Rowan Moore House on Wednesday morning? It would give you a chance to meet everyone.’

‘That should be fine. Can I just double check with Mum that it’s ok with her and then I’ll call you straight back?’

‘Of course,’ he agreed.

I heard tapping down the line, which I presumed was Max checking his computer. ‘How does 10am sound? Let me know if that is all right with her.’

I ended the call to ring Mum and in a garbled rush explained that I had now accepted the job and would she be ok if I attended a meeting with the Styleses and the rest of the team up at Rowan Moore House at 10am on Wednesday morning.

She ushered me off the phone. ‘Of course it is. I’m so excited and proud of you!’

Grinning like an idiot, I rang Max back. ‘Sorry about that. I’ve just spoken with my mum and 10am on Wednesday morning is all good.’

‘Excellent! Well, we look forward to seeing you then and hearing more about your wonderful ideas for the cabins.’

Then he was gone.

I clicked off my mobile and gawped at my apprehensive image in the mirrors. Today was Sunday. Right. I had three days to pull together more detailed ideas and get prepared for that meeting.

I didn’t want to rock up looking unprofessional.

After jumping in the shower and washing my hair, I threw on my jeans and one of my Christmas jumpers, emblazoned with gold and silver sequinned Christmas trees. Ok, so it was still November, but it was never too early for a Christmas jumper in my opinion.

I hoped that the winking sequins might help me channel some extra inspiration.

I fetched myself two slices of toast smeared with butter and apricot jam, together with a steaming mug of tea and made myself comfortable at my kitchen table. I pulled my notebook and pen towards me, as crisp winter sunshine seeped through the window.

I would jot down more details about my ideas

At least I had the next couple of days in Christmas Crackers to help Mum and Orla out. With the festive season on the horizon and us keen to shift as much stock as we could before 31st December, any extra help would be welcome.

I took a pensive bite of my toast. It was going to be a very hectic time, but I could handle it, especially with Mum’s support.

I tried to quash bubbling resentment inside me, as I thought again about the shop. I had come up with so many plans about what I was going to do, once I had bought it from Vivian next year.

I’d already had a chat with a local artist about producing special Craig Brae Christmas cards to sell, as well as running more promotional competitions and having personalised Christmas stockings for sale.

All the ideas and notions I had been excitedly coming up with… How could I have been so close to owning Christmas Crackers and then have it whisked away from underneath me, just like that?

My mind returned to that horrible conversation Vivian had with me in the office. Her croaky voice and tearful apologies. She had been every bit as distraught about the situation as I had been.

I glanced down at my fingers which were threatening to crush my pen.

Right. Sitting here seething about it all wasn’t helping. I had to focus.

I imagined the four log cabins again. I had to hit the ground running with some great but affordable ideas to transform them in time for Christmas. What would I want in a cosy cabin like those? What would appeal to me?

I doodled random shapes on the empty white page staring back up at me. The cabins weren’t just for Christmas, though. Stephanie and Max were intending on having them occupied throughout the year.

The proposals I had initially suggested to them bounded about in my head. Potential colour schemes and themes rampaged. In that case, if I could make the revamped makeovers cost effective – use colours that could be adapted for other possible themes for the rest of the year – that could prove to be a significant saving. It sounded like Max and Stephanie had spent a great deal of money already on making the cabins environmentally friendly, not to mention all the gadgets and the private water source they had constructed.