Page 50 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

Blake scowled out from under his white wig.

‘An hour maximum,’ clarified Mrs Stritch. ‘Thank you so much for this.’

Blake scratched his real beard under his false one and attempted a pained smile. ‘You’re welcome.’

I was still grinning. ‘You do look the part.’

Blake walked over to me and glowered from under his black brows.

‘How are you coping with the double beard thing going on underneath there? It can’t be very comfortable. Must be awful for you.’

Blake ground his teeth together. ‘You wait, Grant. I will have my revenge.’

‘Oh, you mustn’t be tetchy,’ I teased him. ‘Santa is a sweet old gent. The children will love you.’ I took an exaggerated step backwards and looked him up and down. ‘Nobody would recognise you.’

‘I bloody well hope not!’

‘Oh, that reminds me,’ gasped Mrs Stritch. ‘Goodness!’ She hurried over to a passing teacher. ‘With everything going on, I almost forgot. Could you bring me Mrs Shaw’s Christmas elf outfit please, Cara?’

The young woman disappeared, returning moments later with an olive-green felt ensemble, complete with a pointy hat and bell attached to the end of it. Mrs Stritch took it from the other teacher and held it up towards me, as though she were trying to persuade me to buy it.

‘Mrs Shaw always plays Santa’s little helper at our Christmas parties, but she telephoned a short while ago to say she can’t do it today. Her husband is in a lot of discomfort with his sciatica and she didn’t want to leave him.’

What was going on? Why was she holding that ensemble up against me?

She fluttered the outfit, almost striking me in the face with it. ‘The children are so observant. If any of the staff were to do it, they would recognise them straight away.’ She fixed me with her clear, pale gaze. ‘I’m so sorry to spring this on you, Lottie, but I don’t suppose you would…?’

From behind me came a peal of deep laughter. Blake grinned through his flowing white beard. ‘Yes, she would be more than happy to oblige. What is it you always say about being there to help out in the community, Lottie?’

Bugger! I shot him a hot look. The outfit was hideous. I stared with a feeling of dread at the fringed skirt and stripey red and white tights.

‘Mrs Shaw is slim, but on the curvier side like you,’ carried on Mrs Stritch, an imploring desperation creeping into her voice.

I managed a tight smile.

Blake was relishing this turn of events. ‘Go on, Lottie. You don’t want to disappoint all these children, do you?’

I swung around to look at him. His dark eyes danced with amusement from beneath his mane of white wig.

Well, I wasn’t about to let Blake think he was getting one over me, or that I was dreading putting on this awful outfit.

I pushed my pinched mouth into an overly bright smile. ‘Of course I’ll do it, Mrs Stritch. Anything to help. No problem at all.’

‘Wonderful. Thank you so much, dear.’ She thrust the elf outfit at me and I threw it over one arm.

‘The ladies’ teachers’ toilets are through the alcove.’

‘On the left?’ I asked, ignoring Blake, who was still grinning at my evident discomfort.

‘On the left,’ she confirmed with an appreciative smile. ‘Well remembered.’

I made my way around the corner, clutching the garish elf outfit. At least I would be able to wear my snazzy knee-length riding boots with it.

‘Oh, Lottie. Sorry. I meant to give you these.’

Scratch that.

I buried a tragic sigh, as Mrs Stritch hurried towards me with a pair of matching green slippers, tied with red laces.