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Frances checked her watch. “Ready?” she whispered to Mara. “We don’t want to be late for our afternoon tea.”
Mara beamed. “Yes. I’ve thought about little else all day.”
Frances’s stomach growled; she knew the feeling. “I’ll grab my coat.”
She joined Mara in reception, and they made their way downstairs, finding the corridors of the hall even more packed than before. Negotiating trees, boxes, wooden huts, and endless decorations, they finally made it through the gift shop and out into the stable courtyard.
Although the route through Holly Court offered a direct and unimpeded path from the hall, Frances had designated it as private for the few staff who lived there. Anyone needing access had to go via the gift shop or exit through the main building on the south side and walk around. It also meant people were less likely to disturb her mum.
Frances smiled as they entered the stable courtyard, pleased to find it filled with wooden chalets for the Christmas market. They’d arrived early that morning, but they couldn’t be positioned there until the site closed for the day on health and safety grounds. Frances had wrangled with herself over whether to close the entire site to allow an easy Christmas installation. Leaving the parkland, café, and gift shop open was a mild inconvenience, but vital financially, and it did help create a buzz about what was happening. As long as visitors obeyed the signage, everything would be fine.
She and Mara entered the café to find the place buzzing with people. A member of staff greeted them and led them to a reserved table by the window. Having taken their drinks order, she said, “I’ll let Gary know you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Frances replied with a firm nod.
Her head chef promised to create the best Winter Wonderland afternoon tea that money could buy, but Frances would be the judge of that. A few minutes later, the waitress appeared with a large pot of winter-spiced tea. A tiered stand followed, crammed with sandwiches, scones, and miniature desserts: a chocolate log, a bite-sized Black Forest gateau, and a winter-spiced lebkuchen snowflake.
Frances went straight for the lebkuchen, devouring it in seconds.
“Aren’t you supposed to start with the sandwiches?” Mara chuckled.
“I couldn’t resist,” Frances replied, wiping a few crumbs from her lips.
“It’s so nice to have a bit of downtime,” Mara said, sipping her tea. “It’s relentless at the moment, and our Christmas event hasn’t even begun.”
Frances lifted an eyebrow and reached for a sandwich. “Downtime? May I remind you this is a working lunch?”
Mara grinned as she helped herself to another sandwich. “Oh, of course, boss.”
“Who was that woman you were talking to earlier?” Frances asked as she took a bite.
Mara thought for a moment. “Ah, that would be Lucie Brown. A much-needed last-minute recruit. I’m happy to report that we now have a full complement of elves.”
“Oh,” Frances said, “that’s a relief.”
“You’re telling me. It’s one less thing I have to worry about.”
“She had a lovely tan. Made me quite envious,” Frances said, trying to sound casual as she probed for more information about their new employee.
“She’s been working in Namibia and Botswana for the last ten years.”
“Oh, really? And how did she come to be here?”
Mara shrugged. “The address she gave was in the village, so I’m guessing she has family here. She said she had no plans to return to Africa.”
Frances sighed. “What I wouldn’t do for a bit of sun right now.”
“Same,” Mara groaned. “Steve is off on a stag week in Tenerife over New Year.”
“Lovely,” Frances said, trying not to give away any hint of jealousy as she peeled back the lid on a pot of clotted cream. She couldn’t even contemplate getting away. Holidays were a thing of the past for her, now that she needed to look after her mum. She leant back in her chair and sighed. “Are we foolish for taking on so much this year?”
“We? It was you who said we should go big or go home. The roof restoration is the reason we’re doing it, isn’t it?”
Frances hummed her agreement. “Well, I hope it pays off. After all the work we’ve put in.”
Mara placed her hand on Frances’s arm and patted it. “I’m sure it will.”
Once they’d grazed their way through the three tiers of delicious delights, a short, stout man in a white chef’s gown approached them.
