my grasp of numbers is weak at the best of times. In one ear and out the other. I should know, but I just forget.â
âWeâve sold eighteen thousand,â I said. âWith thirty per cent of those coming from online bookings. Iâll drop him an email. What else?â
âOh, er . . .â He scrunched up his eyes. âHave we made sure there are disabled access ramps in the indoor arena?â
âYes, we have.â I looked back down at my paperwork to hide my smile. That would be the âRoyalâ we.
âOh good.â He nodded. âAnd he wanted to know whether the outdoor seating in the VIP area is shaded.â
âIt is,â I said. âWell, it is now. Iâve just been down this morning and asked them to put a canvas roof over it. It will be a bit like a sail. I didnât want your parentsâ guests keeling over with sunstroke.â
He stared at me and whistled. âHow do you remember this stuff? I bet I could ask you a thousand questions and youâd be able to answer all of them.â
âPlanning. Itâs all in here. Look.â I held up my diary at todayâs page. There was barely any empty space; Iâd written reams of notes all over it.
He shook his head and grinned. âHolly Swift, youâre a marvel. What would I do without you?â
I felt ridiculously pleased and too tongue-tied to come up with a witty answer and was relieved when Sheila inadvertently came to my rescue.
âThere you are!â she announced, panting slightly as she laid a heavy cardboard box down on the table. âIâve been carting these round looking for you.â
âIâm sorry, Sheila, I thought Iâd escape from the perils of sharing an office with an artist.â I smiled, flicking a glance at Ben.
âThe new Wickham Hall calendars are in.â She flipped open the top of the box and handed one to each of us. âI thought you might like to see them before I drop them off at the gift shop.â
âI would, thank you!â I held my breath as I looked at the calendar. This had been my first job on arriving at Wickham Hall, my first chance to prove myself, and I hoped I had succeeded.
The cover photograph of Lord and Lady Fortescue was adorable: instead of a stilted formal pose, Lady Fortescue was sitting on a window seat in the Long Gallery, Lord Fortescue beside her, his arm around her shoulders; the pair were smiling and gazing at a jewellery case containing Lord Fortescueâs grandmotherâs tiara. A lump appeared in my throat as I read the caption:
Lady Fortescueâs Hidden Treasure. A surprise on our wedding day from Hugo, this gift, a family heirloom, more than anything truly made me feel like one of the family
.
Even though Iâd read her words before when we put the calendar together, it still warmed my heart to read it again.
âHolly, this is great. Really great.â Ben reached across and ruffled my hair as though I was a small boy. âAnd different. I donât think the calendar has ever featured people before, has it, Sheila?â
She smiled. âNo, itâs usually flowers or views across the estate or various rooms in the hall.â
âThe team at Wickham Hall, the people, theyâre its beating heart. Good on you, Holly.â Ben gazed at me and I stared back, trying to read his expression, my own heart beating furiously at the compliment.
Sheila picked up the box and walked off to the gift shop and gradually the noise and the movements around me came back into focus.
The door to the café opened very slowly and Jennyâs head appeared through it, followed by the rest of her.
âJust checking Lord Fortescue wasnât around. I want to keep this a surprise. What do you think?â She held out a small dish of tiny eggs skewered onto cocktail sticks that had been decorated with concertinaâd ribbons of Parma ham.
âVery pretty,â I said.