'I know, same here. My mum had a big bush in our garden when I was a girl. I used to pick them for her and bring them inside to brighten up the kitchen. Just like I’m doing now, actually.'
Cally smiled. 'That's a lovely memory.’
Doreen nodded. ‘Funny, isn't it? How a scent or a flower can transport you back in time.' Doreen finished arranging the vase and stepped back to admire her handiwork. 'There. That's better. A bit of colour to liven up the place.'
‘They're beautiful. You’re really good at arranging them too. I just plonk flowers in willy-nilly.’
Doreen waved away the compliment. 'Oh, it's nothing. Just a bit of practice, that's all. You have to turn your hand to everything working here.' Doreen rolled her eyes and then moved to the oven and peeked inside. 'The bread's coming along nicely. Should be ready in a bit. Anyway, back to the races. Have you got your outfit sorted?'
Cally didn’t want to talk about the races. ‘Yes.’
'I remember the first time I went to the races,' Doreen reminisced, a faraway look in her eyes. 'I was just a young thing, barely out of school. My mum had saved up for months to buy me a new dress, and I felt like a princess. Those were the days.' She chuckled, shaking her head. 'Of course, I had no idea what I was doing. I picked the horses based on their names if you can believe it. But I had the time of my life, just soaking up the atmosphere and the excitement. You’ll love it.'
Cally smiled. ‘I hope so.’
‘Just remember to enjoy yourself, and don't get too caught up in trying to impress anyone.'
The Aga oven timer dinged, and Doreen jumped up to retrieve the bread. She pulled the loaves out and set them on a cooling rack. ‘Another coffee?’
Cally looked at the time on her phone. ‘I should get to it.’
Just as Cally was polishing off the last of her coffee, Alastair, Logan's cousin, came hurrying in from the main house. ‘Morning, all,’ he said in his usual posh-boy voice.
‘Morning, Alastair,’ Doreen and Cally said in unison.
‘How are you, Doreen?’ Alastair asked, flashing a charming smile.
‘Yes, good, thank you.’
‘I'm after a coffee, please,’ Alastair said, then turned to Cally. ‘How are you, Cally? All good with you?’
‘Good, thanks. Yep.’
‘What are you doing here? Where's Logan?’ Alastair asked.
‘I'm not with Logan.’
‘No? What are you up to then?’ Alastair probed with a frown.
‘I'm with Nina. I'm doing a job over in the east wing.’
Alastair raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, decluttering, is it? Good luck. That’s quite the task, sorting through all that old junk. You need a medal. Oh, no, actually, you’re getting paid for it, so there’s that.’
Cally felt her cheeks flush. Alastair had a way of putting his foot in it and making her feel bad, even though it was completely unintentional. She didn’t know what to say. ‘It’s a big job.’
Alastair’s voice was not unkind, but to Cally’s ear, it dripped with condescension. ‘A big job of sifting through a load of crap, old newspapers, and broken furniture. As I said, good luck with that. Best of British. Rather you than me. Someone has to do it, though.’
Cally tried to keep her voice steady. ‘Thanks.’
Doreen handed Alastair his coffee. ‘Here you go, Alastair. Freshly brewed.’
‘Thank you, Doreen,’ Alastair said, taking the cup. ‘You always make the best coffee.’
Alastair sipped his coffee, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his words had made Cally feel awkward. ‘So, do you enjoy working here? It must be quite different from, you know, that little job thingy you were doing in the chemist.’
Cally took a deep breath. ‘It’s good. It's given me an appreciation of the manor's history.’
Alastair nodded. ‘Well, I suppose it's good to find joy in the little things. We always say that, don’t we, Doreen?’
