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“He’s helping in the garden. But—”
“He doesn’t want to step on any toes, and I really don’t think he will be,” she cut across him. “He’s thinking of carving a nativity set, and that isn’t something you’ve thought about doing. You have plenty to be getting on with anyway, so, if you can trust yourself to be the kind and friendly person I know you truly are, why don’t you go and talk to him about it?”
Matthew stared at her for a moment, and then, with a sigh and a smile, he nodded. “Sorry. Yes, okay, I will.”
As he left the room, Gwen let out a shaky breath as she sank onto one of the kitchen chairs. The fiery indignation that had lent her the courage to have that conversation left her in a rush, so now she only felt old and tired and very uncertain. At that moment, letting John McCardell into her life seemed like a disconcerting prospect, indeed.
CHAPTER10
ELLIE
“Oh, Ellie, this looks fab.”
Ellie smiled in gratitude at Emma, mum of Josh’s best friend Zach, and one of her close friends. Emma ran her own freelance PR business, and she’d helped Ellie when they’d first planned to relaunch the inn almost two years ago. It made sense to ask for her help now, although Ellie knew Emma’s business had taken off, and she was usually booked up months in advance. She’d invited her over during half-term to have a look at her ideas, and to ask—or evenbeg—if she could help with the publicity. It was halfway through the holiday week, and fortunately a quiet afternoon, since all the families, including Ellie’s, had gone out. The guests, loaded up with maps and picnic baskets, had gone to the Brecon Beacons, and Matthew had taken the kids bowling.
Gwen had gone out, as well, although she hadn’t said where. Ellie half-wondered if she was meeting John, but somehow, over the last few days, he had become something of a no-go area of conversation, as well as a slight source of tension, for both Matthew and Gwen. Ellie didn’t really understand it, but she had enough to be getting on with, without deliberately stirring up a hornet’s nest of emotions.
“Do you really think so?” Ellie asked her friend now. In addition to managing their guests this week, she’d bought quite a few of the decorations from the suppliers Sarah had recommended, and she’d done up the sitting room as best as she could, to give Emma an idea of what she was aiming for. Even without the Christmas tree or roaring log fire—both of which would be present when the photographers came—she thought the room looked nice, indeed—crimson ribbon twisted around pinecones, fresh evergreens on the mantelpiece, and tall, creamy candles standing sentry in crimson and gold holders on the deep windowsill. Looking around, she was starting to feel optimistic that they just might be able to pull all this off.
“Yes, I love the quaintness of everything,” Emma enthused. “Too often, Christmas decorations look so glossy and sterile, everything relentlessly color coordinated. Having a few homemade touches really adds to it, I think.” She nodded toward the bookshelf, where Ellie had, in a reluctant concession to Matthew, stuck that silly miniature LED Christmas tree, half behind a vase. “I love that,” Emma said, and Ellie managed a weak laugh.
Really? Of all the special touches Ellie had worked so hard on, Emma had to point out that tatty old tree?
“Ellie?” Emma asked in concern, and to her horror, Ellie realized she was suddenly near tears.
“Sorry,” she said on what she hoped passed for a laugh. “I’m so glad you like it all. As it happens, there is a story behind that little tree.”
“A story?” Emma raised her eyebrows, looking intrigued. “I’d love to hear it.”
“Well…” Ellie shook her head, glancing around at all herrelentlessly color coordinatedefforts—everything crimson and gold, including a few throw pillows for the sofa she’d splurged on, along with a crimson and gold blanket over the sofa’s back and a crimson and gold bow affixed to the log basket. Was it all too matching, tootwee? Maybe she’d got this really wrong. The thought was dispiriting.
“Did I put my foot in it?” Emma asked, laughing uncertainly. “I was just saying that I like how real you’ve made it, while still looking totally gorgeous. I love those throw pillows, by the way.”
Ellie let out another tired laugh. It was almost as if Emma could read her thoughts.
“Thanks,” she said. “As for the LED tree, well, it belonged—belongs—to Gwen. She wanted me to use some of her old decorations, and so I did.”
“Ah.” Emma nodded knowingly. “A compromise?”
“Of sorts. I admit, I was kind of reluctant. Some of them are quite… homemade.”
“But homemade ones are the best!” Emma exclaimed, before subsiding with a ruefully guilty look. “Sorry. I mean, I get you. For a hotel, you want a slightly more polished look, I suppose.”
“Exactly,” Ellie said on a sigh. The truth was, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. If the one thing Emma had noticed was that silly tree, and not all the little touches and extras she’d worked so hard on… well, what did it say about any of it? Abouther?
“I think you’ve done a really good job here, Ellie, and on such short notice,” Emma told her, her voice warm with sincerity. “Seriously. I only mentioned the tree because I had one as a kid, and it brought back memories. I thought they were the coolest thing, back in the day, with those lights.”
“I suppose they were,” Ellie agreed. Perhaps she could get a few more decorations from Gwen’s boxes. They could be officially labeled as retro, vintage.
“Are you okay?” Emma asked in concern, touching her arm, and Ellie managed a bright smile.
“Yes. Just tired, I think. Guests all week and then the photographers coming on Monday… I’m worried I might have bitten off more than I can chew here.”
“But you’re doing it,” Emma pointed out as she gestured to the room. “This looks ready to be photographed!”
“Yes, once Matt brings the tree in. Anyway”—Ellie turned from the room—“let’s have a cup of tea while I beg for your help with the publicity.”
Emma laughed. “You don’t need to beg, and it sounds as if you’ve managed plenty on your own, what with this newspaper coming. I’m not sure what you need me to do.”
