It was a few weeks following the expedition to get the dress. Cally had risen at the crack of dawn for chatbot work and made her way to the manor, not as Logan’s girlfriend but working for Nina’s company, A Lovely Organised Life. She had wanted the job for the financial reward, but, to be frank, she hadn’t quite fancied bumping into Logan’s mum or his aunt Cecilia as she went about her business. Bottom line, she was basically doing their dirty work for them and it was rather tricky all around. Cleaning out the stuff of over-indulged people who lived a very different life to her had its downsides. As she arrived at the manor, she felt a pang of awkwardness. There was a glaring contrast between her role as a worker at the manor and her occasional presence in its social settings. She again felt doubt about her place as if there was a huge elephant in the room that would only be amplified a millionfold at the races. Determined not to jump down that rabbit hole, she stuck her nose in the air and clutched her new confidence tightly to her chest.
Just as she was checking her phone for the code to punch into the pad on the door of the east wing, Doreen, the housekeeper, with a huge trug of hydrangeas in her arms, came the other way.
Doreen smiled. ‘Hey, our Cally, how are you?’
‘Great, thanks. You?’
‘Yeah, good, thanks. Coffee?’ Doreen asked.
‘Love one before I get going.’
‘Good to see you.’
‘You too.’
‘How do you think you’ll get on with the storage rooms?’ Doreen asked as Cally fell into step beside her and they made their way to the old, original part of the manor house.
‘Not too bad as long as we crack on.’
As they entered the huge old kitchen, the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air. Doreen bustled around and inhaled. ‘Nothing beats the smell of fresh bread, don't you think?’
Cally smiled, inhaling deeply. ‘It smells heavenly. You’re so clever.’ She looked up at the gleaming copper pots hanging from a rack above the large, central kitchen table and the huge old Aga on the far wall. Sunlight streamed through the windows, landing in a puddle on the well-worn wooden floorboards and loads of bunches of lavender scented the room.
'Sit yourself down. I'll put the kettle on,' Doreen said, gesturing to the large, farmhouse-style table.
Cally sank into one of the chairs and chatted as Doreen filled the kettle and put it on the Aga.
‘What time will Nina arrive?’ Doreen asked.
Cally checked her phone. ‘Not sure.’
‘Will I make her a coffee?’
‘Yep, she might just need to warm it up.’
‘She’ll need coffee for her work this week. That's a big job, that is. Those rooms haven't been touched in years, as far as I can remember.’
Cally nodded, watching as Doreen gathered mugs from a cupboard. ‘I think there is a lot of history over there, just waiting to be discovered.’
Doreen smiled. 'Oh, I'm sure there are plenty of secrets hidden away in this old house. If these walls could talk, they'd have stories to tell. You don’t know what you might find…'
‘Hopefully nothing bad.’ Cally chuckled.
Doreen set two mugs of coffee down on the table with a clink. 'Now, what's this I hear about you going to the races with the family? That's quite the occasion.'
Cally’s stomach turned over and steam curled up into the air as she took her coffee. 'Oh, yes. It's a bit overwhelming, to be honest.'
'Ah, well, it's the highlight of the social calendar around here. Not long now. All the posh folks come out in their finest, sipping champagne and showing off for the Lovely races.’ Doreen chuckled.
Cally hoped her face didn’t show as much alarm as she felt. She couldn’t think of anything to say. ‘Right.’
Doreen clearly read her thoughts. 'Don't you worry. You'll fit right in. Just be yourself, and they'll love you just as much as we do.'
Cally felt grateful for Doreen’s words, but nerves fluttered in her stomach. She lowered her voice. 'It’s so different from anything I've ever experienced. I don't know the first thing about horse racing, or what to wear, or how to act.'
‘You’ll be fine,’ Doreen said as she moved to the large farmhouse sink, where the bunch of hydrangeas from the garden sat in a bucket of water. ‘Just follow your nose.'
Cally was reminded of her grandma as Doreen started to pull the bottom leaves off the hydrangeas and deep purples, soft pinks, and vibrant blues swirled in front of her eyes. ‘I don’t havemuch choice. Gosh, those hydrangeas are so pretty. They remind me of my grandma.’
