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They did so quickly, which was a relief.
“Was that really Mrs Delaney?” Lucie could overhear the younger man asking Bob. “I hardly recognised her.”
Bob was already pulling out his phone as they reached the door. Lucie would have put money on him calling Frances.
Looking around, she spotted a bench to the side of the front door. She turned and motioned to Rose. “Come sit for a minute whilst I check it’s safe to go back inside.”
Rose lowered herself carefully onto the seat. “Will I have to leave here?”
“Don’t worry,” Lucie said softly. “Everything will be okay.”
Heading back inside, she found that most of the smoke had dissipated, though the aroma of burnt toast still hung in the air. Some air freshener might help. She opened one of the doors leading off the hallway. It was a bedroom, and by the older feel of it, with countless ornaments, she guessed it was Rose’s. She closed it and opened the one beside it.
A modern, stylish-looking room, which she suspected was Frances’s, greeted her. A familiar vanilla scent wrapped around her, making her inhale deeply; she was right. From the brief look she had allowed herself, the room didn’t appear to have anything masculine within it, nor did the bathroom when she opened the last door. She spotted a can of air freshener and grabbed it, feeling completely weirded out by being in Frances’s personal space.
Having sprayed the sitting room, she led Rose back inside, where she insisted on going to her room for a lie-down. It was for the best; it would smell less of burnt toast in there with the door shut. With Rose settled on her bed and covered by a blanket, Lucie realised she was going to be late for her shift. Again.
Leaving Rose wasn’t an option, and as she was working alone in the adjacent courtyard for the first part of her shift, it would be fairly easy to slip into unnoticed. First, she needed to wait for Frances to get home so she could give her a piece of her mind, which would probably end up with her being fired anyway.
Frances closed the door to her office and fell into her chair. It was time to head home, but she needed a moment to breathe and clear her head before beginning the evening ritual of making dinner and getting her mum to bed. She was already exhausted from the day, and the last thing she needed was repetitive questions.
It had been a week since she'd returned home to find Lucie there, and she'd struggled to keep the moment from replaying in her mind. As it turned out, she was the mysterious Christmas Elf who had been helping her mum. The shock and embarrassment at knowing Lucie was there, in her space, with her mum, had led her to handle the situation badly. Having ushered her out, Frances had denied what Lucie had seen and then threatened her. Lucie had looked as confused as she herself had felt by it all.
An email popped up on her computer. She opened it instinctively. The events manager had emailed the marketing manager, copying her in, asking for a larger sign ASAP, telling people not to use selfie sticks on the ice rink. Why could people not follow simple instructions?
Unable to help herself, she checked another couple of emails that had come in since she’d last been at her desk an hour earlier. One was from Judith, saying the shop’s daily Christmas bauble sales were already higher than this time last year, which had been a record-breaking year. That was at least good news, as were the glowing press write-ups and visitor feedback forms from the first week.
Even if things weren’t likely to improve with her mum, Christmas being a flop would have made everything so much worse. Frances could do without a budget deficit delaying the roof restoration which was planned for two years’ time.
Her mobile phone vibrated on her desk. She wished she could turn it off sometimes, but that wasn’t possible anymore, in case of a mum-related emergency.
“Hi, Frances. It’s Bob.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked quickly, dispensing with the formalities. A call from him usually meant something serious.
“There is an elf at your house burning toast and setting the smoke alarm off... a Lucie Brown.”
That damn elf!
“I’ve opened some windows, but I would check on your mum,” he continued. “She was quite distressed by it. I don’t think she even recognised me, which is odd since she was the one who hired me.”
“I was heading home anyway, Bob. Thanks for letting me know.”
Frances ended the call, grabbed her coat from behind her chair, and hurried out of her office. If Lucie had done something to attract attention to her mum’s condition after all the work she’d done to keep it quiet, she’d scream. What the hell was she doing there anyway, burning toast?
Reaching Holly Court, she opened her front door and stepped into the hall. Lucie stood there, wide-eyed, with her hands on her hips despite being the one who had a lot of explaining to do.
“Why did my head of security call me to tell me an elf burnt toast in my kitchen? If the trustees get wind of any issue, it could have serious implications.” Frances lowered her voice. “I moved her here from our apartment in the hall because I feared she might set fire to something, but I didn’t need to worry, did I, since we have you to do it? Why on earth are you in my house again, not to mention burning toast?”
“I wasn’t,” Lucie snapped.
Frances stiffened. “What?”
“I heard the alarm going off, and I saw your mum come out of the house. I wanted to check she was okay. Then your security dogs turned up asking questions. I thought on my feet and said I was making her some toast and that I burnt it. I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t want anyone to think she had done it.”
Frances shifted uncomfortably before managing, “I see. Well, in that case... erm... thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Lucie replied sharply.