Page 32 of Christmas All the Way

The staffroom was empty when she reached it, but the kettle was still hot, suggesting someone had made a cup of tea recently. Piling her coat and bag at the end of one sofa, she padded along to the tiny office at the end of the landing and tapped on the door. There was a long silence, punctuated by the faint rustle of plastic and then by the unmistakeable sound of a nose being blown. Grace frowned. ‘Ivy? Is that you?’

More silence, followed by a loud sniff. ‘Yes,’ a female voice quavered, but it sounded so unlike Ivy that Grace wondered if she had someone in the office with her. ‘Just a moment.’

She waited, concern creasing her forehead. If Ivy was alone then she was upset. ‘Is everything okay? I can come back later, if you like? Or call Raff, if you’re not feeling well.’

The sound of rustling increased, suggesting movement behind the closed door. A moment later, it was pulled back to reveal Ivy, clearly in a state of some distress. Grace eyed her in consternation; her usually neat hair was escaping from its ponytail, as though she had been dragging her fingers through it, and her blue eyes were rimmed with pink. Blotches of crimson stained her cheeks. It looked very much as though she had been crying. ‘What’s wrong?’ Grace said in alarm. ‘Oh my goodness, Ivy, what on earth has happened?’

The older woman pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head. ‘Nothing,’ she said, the word little more than a whisper. With an effort, she gathered herself together enough to offer Grace a watery smile. ‘I’m fine, really. I’ve just had a bit of bad news, that’s all. Nothing for you to trouble yourself about.’

Grace stared at her. ‘Like hell it’s not. You’re crying. Please, tell me what’s wrong, or let me get Raff.’

Again, Ivy shook her head, but this time it was more vehement. ‘No, don’t bother him – he’ll be working. I’ll be perfectly fine in a minute. I just need to – to –’

She broke off, her eyes filling with tears once more. ‘Come and sit down,’ Grace said soothingly, placing a gentle hand beneath Ivy’s elbow and guiding her to the office chair in front of the desk. She lifted a box of tissues and placed it in her unresisting hands. ‘Why don’t I go and make us a cup of camomile tea and then you can tell me what this is about?’

Pulling a tissue from the box, Ivy dabbed at her eyes. ‘Yes, a cup of tea might help. Thank you.’

Eyeing her with concern, Grace returned to the staffroom, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the kettle to boil again. She selected the two largest mugs and dropped the herbal tea bags into them, dousing them in water before carrying them back to the office. Ivy seemed to have herself more under control; her eyes were dry when Grace re-entered, and the blotches in her cheeks had subsided to a rosy pink. ‘I’m sorry you had to see me like that,’ she said, accepting the mug with an embarrassed grimace. ‘Not a good look for an employer, is it?’

‘Don’t you dare apologise,’ Grace said as she settled on the hard wooden chair in the corner. ‘Clearly you’ve had a shock. Is there anything I can do to help?’

Ivy’s eyes fluttered closed, then reopened. ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘I’m not sure anyone can help, to be honest. I suppose I should have seen it coming but, well, sometimes it’s easier to bury one’s head in the sand, isn’t it?’

Grace studied her, a nasty suspicion beginning to form in her mind. ‘This is something to do with Jesse Bairstow, isn’t it? I met him as he was leaving – he’s the one who’s upset you.’

For a moment, she thought Ivy would deny it, but then she sighed again. ‘Yes. He came to tell me he intends to raise the rent I pay here.’ Her eyes met Grace’s and became watery again. ‘By two thousand pounds a month.’

Grace gasped in outrage. ‘What? But that’s ridiculous. Surely you have a contract – he can’t just spring this on you out of the blue.’

‘Obviously I have a contract,’ Ivy replied with quiet dignity. ‘It was negotiated with his father years ago, back when Ruggles really only sold trees and plants and I was looking for somewhere big enough to realise my dream. Jim Bairstow has never been one of those ruthless types – I think he thought our businesses might even complement each other, so he offered me a long-term lease on a peppercorn rent, a nominal amount quite a long way below the market value because he couldn’t see that anyone else would want the barn.’

‘Your businesses do complement each other,’ Grace pointed out, as the penny began to drop. ‘But if this is true, why is Jesse demanding such an enormous increase in rent? You said your lease is long term.’

She puffed out a long breath. ‘It is. But the name on the paperwork is Ruggles Garden Centre and Jesse says he’s restructuring the business to make it more streamlined. All the assets are being transferred to a new company – Ruggles Holdings or something like that – and that means the existing lease will be nullified. Between you and me, I think he’s trying to force me out. He wants the land for something else and I’m afraid his plan is going to succeed. I can’t afford an extra two thousand pounds every month. Not on top of business rates and rising import costs and goodness knows what else.’

Her gaze fell to her lap and she began to shred the tissue she held. Grace felt a burst of fury on her behalf. ‘This is so unfair. Does Jesse’s father know what he’s up to?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ivy admitted. ‘I haven’t seen him much recently as he’s been unwell. But I don’t want to trouble him with this. Times change, after all. Maybe this is a sign it’s time to move on from Santa’s Secret and do something else.’

‘No,’ Grace exclaimed indignantly. ‘This is bullying. I bet Jesse knew you were on your own this morning and picked his moment carefully. I’d like to see him try to pull a stunt like this when Raff is around.’

Ivy managed a faint smile. ‘I’d quite like to see that too,’ she said. ‘But the trouble is, Raff has nothing to do with Santa’s Secret. And while I’m sure he would defend me stoutly, at the end of the day this is my business and my problem. Not his.’

‘But—’ Grace began, picturing Raff’s furious response when he heard what had happened.

‘But nothing,’ Ivy insisted. ‘He has his own business to run. He doesn’t need to worry about mine too.’

The steel in her tone told Grace she would not be convinced otherwise. ‘You are going to tell him, though, aren’t you?’ she said, studying Ivy’s now-composed expression. ‘You’re still his mum – he’ll want to know.’

‘I will tell him,’ Ivy said. ‘In good time, once I’ve worked out what to do for the best. And until I do, I’m afraid I have to ask you not to mention this, Grace. To Raff or anyone else. I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into it but it is a private matter – for now, at least.’

Reluctantly, Grace nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘Thank you. So it’s business as usual, agreed? Which means unpacking the new stock and finding a location for your lovely woodland glade.’

Creating a haven of peace was the last thing Grace felt like doing but, out of deference to Ivy, she dipped her head. ‘Agreed.’

‘Good,’ Ivy said, and took a sip of tea. ‘Why don’t you let me finish this and tidy myself up, and I’ll meet you downstairs in twenty minutes?’