Page 7 of Winter Magic at Hollybrae Castle

‘I don’t know, when do you want me to start?’

‘As soon as possible. I have a storage room full of decorations, but there will be plenty you need to buy and have delivered and organise. You’re going to have a lot to do. We’ve all got a lot to do.’

Presumably the decorating, not the… wife-ing.

‘Tomorrow?’ It sounds weird coming out of my mouth, but at the same time, what do I have to stay for? I have a new job waiting for me in Scotland – there’s no point milling around here for another few days when I could be up there, making a start on… everything. I’m daunted by the prospect of decorating an entire castle on my own when I’m used to working with a team, so the sooner I get to grips with exactly what it entails and start organising things, the better.

‘Tomorrow works for me.’ His attention is still on the website he’s looking at. ‘The guests are arriving on the 23rd and leaving on the 27th, so I’ll book a return for… the 28th?’

I nod when he looks back into the camera questioningly, and wait while he makes a few more clicks.

‘Right, ticket booked for tomorrow, Euston to Glasgow, from there you want a taxi to the airport, and hold on… I’m going to book you a place on a flight in advance, and then I’ll arrange a taxi to collect you from Campbeltown airport and bring you here.’

‘That’s very kind of you. I can pay for⁠—’

I’m pretty sure I actually couldn’t pay for that kind of travel right now, but he waves the offer away. ‘You’re doing me a massive favour. It’s the least I can do. I didn’t know how to get out of this mess, but then… there you were. The answer I’d been looking for. All expenses will be covered.’

It’s a nice thing to do, something that makes me feel wanted and important, and I watch him in silence as he focuses on whatever travel booking website he’s on. No one could deny that he’s very nice-looking, with a bright smile and an accent that makes him go from handsome to drop-dead gorgeous every time he speaks.

‘All done. I’ll email everything you need over now.’ He clasps his hands together and looks back into the camera. ‘See you tomorrow, internet stranger who’s saving my backside.’

‘See you tomorrow, unexpected stranger and purveyor of the strangest job interview I’ve ever had.’

He’s still laughing as he ends the meeting, and when the screen goes blank, I can feel that excitement buzzing inside me again.

If everything happens for a reason, then maybe Paddington Bear’s demise was not in vain after all. Maybe it was the universe’s way of sending me to the Mull of Kintyre for Christmas, to decorate a castle, pretend to be a stranger’s wife, and whatever else is to come in the next thirty days.

3

‘You’re doing what?’ Mira stands in the doorway of my room as I stare at the open suitcase on the bed and wonder what to put in it. I repeat what I’ve already told her, not stopping to appreciate how truly bizarre it sounds until her face contorts in befuddlement.

‘You’re going to Scotland to pretend to be some guy’s wife for Christmas? Tomorrow?’

‘No, I’m going to Scotland to decorate a castle for Christmas, and there’s a teeny-tiny little sideline in pretending to be some guy’s wife.’

‘Lula, you cannot be serious.’

I grab a couple of pairs of jeans from the wardrobe and fold them into the suitcase rather than answering her.

‘What in the name of jingle bells are you thinking? You can’t just…’ She throws her hands up and huffs in frustration. ‘Look, this whole Calloways thing will blow over. I didn’t realise it had affected you this badly. You’ve lost the plot. You’ve honestly lost it.’

Have I? I turn back to the wardrobe and pull a couple of Christmas jumpers off their hangers. What do you wear for a month of decorating-slash-wifery? Do I need formalwear? Casual wear? ‘Festive pyjamas!’ I say out loud. No one can spend December without festive pyjamas, no matter where they are in the country.

‘I am literally watching my sister have a breakdown.’ Mira throws her hands up again. ‘Lula, please stop this. You’ll get another job. In January, there will be new openings. You don’t need to go to the other end of the country and live with some random guy off the internet who you’ve never met!’

‘He seemed like a really nice guy.’ I stuff make-up that’s scattered across the top of the dresser back into its bag. I’m not much of a make-up person in my day-to-day life, but presumably I’ll need to look presentable at some point over the festive season. ‘Earnest, open, embarrassed and self-deprecating.’

‘Axe-murdery?’

‘No, not murdery at all. Someone who’s dug himself into a hole and is trying to claw his way back out, and we’ve all been there. Did I mention that he’s paying really well and he’s covered all my travel expenses without a second thought? And the castle is beautiful. The kind of place I’ve always dreamed about visiting. And it’s on the Mull of Kinty⁠—’

‘You are going to be murdered. You’re going to be chopped up and dumped in a ditch or chained up in some castle dungeon forevermore, and it’s going to be my fault for not being able to talk sense into you. Are you sure it’s even a real castle? It’s not, like, a ruin with no roof and three crumbling half-walls, is it? If there really is a castle at all. It could all be a ploy to lure his next victim to their demise. There’s no way this is going to end well.’

‘He was charming and professional.’

‘That’s exactly what everyone says about every serial killer that’s ever existed! That’s how they pull their victims in – by being irresistibly charming and not weird at all!’

‘He put an ad on a job site, Mira. If he wanted a murder victim, he’d be more subtle about it.’