‘Nonsense! Mr Dunwoody here says that you’re the nation’s sweetheart, and a columnist too; I’d say that’s a little more than being just a part-time shop girl. Sooo modest. You really should have told me, my dear.’ I open my mouth to speak, but Mr Dunwoody leaps in first.
‘Please. I may be the Member of Parliament for Mulberry-On-Sea, but no need to stand on ceremony.’ He puffs his beer-belly out a little further. ‘You can call me Dougie,’ he states, with an eager glint in his eye. Oh goody. After wiping a fleshy paw down the side of his cords, he offers it to me. Isabella drops my arm so I can shake Dougie’s hand. ‘And I was just saying that I need you.’
‘You do?’ I ask, raising one eyebrow while trying not to sound too sardonic.
‘That’s right. The town needs a high-profile person, someone in the public eye – I’d do it myself, but I’m not sure my constituents would thank me for it.’ He chuckles while I resist the urge to smirk. ‘No, my work is in Westminster! In London.’ Oh really. Like I didn’t know that already. I smile tightly. ‘But you would be perfect.’
‘Well I’m always happy to help if I can – what is it you’d like me to do?’ I ask tentatively, making sure I keep the smile in place while silently praying it isn’t something cringy or embarrassing: been there, done that, and on national television!
‘Help organise the Mulberry-On-Sea summer regatta, of course.’ It’s the scowly woman. ‘I’m Mr Dunwoody’s personal secretary,’ she says, fixing her beady eyes on me. Hmm, so you don’t have an actual name then …
‘Nice to meet you.’ I smile, but she doesn’t reciprocate.
One of the Carrington’s directors explains instead. ‘Georgie, Carrington’s are going to be sponsoring the summer regatta, in conjunction with the town council, the Mulberry Marina management company and the local radio station, Mulberry FM. It will be organised collaboratively by a number of retailers and community workers, together with the sponsors. Dougie asked if you could be involved, seeing as you grew up here, and you’re such a popular and well-known face in the town.’
‘Um, sure … and thank you.’ I feel flattered, and it sounds as if it might be fun.
‘We hoped you might help organise it on our behalf, be the face of Carrington’s? It’s such a fantastic opportunity for the whole community – to bring the town together, to have some fun, and for all of us retailers and local suppliers to make a bit of money too. It will really put Mulberry on the map if we can pull this off.’ He smiles and nods eagerly. ‘So, what do you say? Are you up for it? And it really would help with our expansion programme – to open a new store; help us to show how “community-spirited” the Carrington’s company is—’
‘What a fantastic idea.’ As if by magic, Tom appears with his dad, Vaughan, following close behind – a tall, robust, bear of man, with a crumpled cream linen suit and a weather-beaten face. ‘Georgie is an excellent organiser, a good team player, and she certainly knows how to look after people. She’s an expert when it comes to customer service. And all our regular customers adore her,’ Tom says, smiling proudly before taking my hand in his and giving it a big squeeze. Vaughan nods heartily in agreement. My heart melts, but the feeling quickly evaporates when I spot Isabella in my peripheral vision – she’s pursing her lips and gazing majestically into the middle distance. What is her problem? One minute she’s schmoozing me, the next she clearly hates me.
‘Wow, well, after that glowing recommendation, how can I refuse?’ I say, feeling thrilled. This could be really exciting – I’ll get to do something new and I love Mulberry, I’ve lived here my whole life, so what a fantastic opportunity to show what this wonderful, pretty, seaside-postcard of a town is made of. ‘When do I start?’ I grin.
‘Bravo!’ shouts Dougie.
‘Thank you. We really need Dunwoody on board if we’re to open another store, he’s heavily involved in planning and building regulations so could make it very difficult for us if he wanted to,’ Tom whispers in my ear as he leans in to give me a hug.
‘I wish you had mentioned it, though,’ I smile and whisper back.
‘Thought it would be a nice surprise, besides, we were kind of busy last night,’ he laughs sexily, standing next to me now and swinging an arm around my shoulders.
‘But Georgie, darling, you really shouldn’t make a snap decision, or feel pressured into helping out – it’s such a huge undertaking,’ Isabella starts, placing a hand on my arm and surreptitiously pulling me away from Tom. ‘Why don’t you have a think about it first? If it’s a little too much for you, then I could always get my events man, Sebastian, involved instead. See what a marvellous job he’s done with today’s spectacular soirée.’ Isabella gestures around the overly opulent deck as if to prove her point. But I’m not sure Mozart and plates of weird-looking canapés will cut it with the residents of Mulberry. Mrs Godfrey, one of Carrington’s regular customers, and a stalwart of the local WI, would definitely complain – ‘far too fussy’, I can hear her now. Oh no no no!
Ideas immediately buzz inside my head. I’m thinking ice cream in cones; donkey rides on the beach (if they’re still allowed, I make a mental note to put it on my ‘regatta things to do’ list and find out). Yes, I’m going to need a massive ‘to do’ list – a bumper pad, in fact. And it’s been years since I went on a donkey; the EU could have put a stop to it, for all I know, and what about a funfair? Everyone loves a carousel. And food! We could have stalls and marquees selling artisan breads – there’s that great new bakery just opened on Bay Street, I bet they’d love to get involved. Exotic cheeses from the local farm shop over in West Mulberry, I know they’d be up for it, and they do assorted olives too. And maybe a special ‘around the world’ tasting experience – the customers loved it when a Japanese chef came instore one time to do a Teppanyaki cooking demonstration. It was amazing – razor-sharp blades slicing and dicing slivers of garlic-infused lamb and vegetable accompaniments before sizzling them on a hot griddle right there on the counter. And Sam could sell her delish cupcakes, macaroons and éclairs. We’d need a live band, of course, and even a mini-film festival, perhaps – something for everyone. I have loads of ideas already and my regular customers are going to love it. It’s so exciting. Isabella pipes up again.
‘Yes, Sebastian is far more accustomed to these things. You know, he was very involved in Elton’s last black-and-white ball.’ This prompts Dougie to let out a long whistle and do big ‘I’m impressed’ eyes.
‘Well, I say we give Georgie a chance. I’m convinced she’ll bring her magic touch to the event,’ Tom steps in.
‘Superb,’ Vaughan interjects, clearly bored by the conversation already. ‘Now that’s settled, I’m off to purloin more refreshments. Anyone for a top-up?’ Vaughan waves his glass in the air and flashes me a cheery smile before wandering off in search of a waiter. Dougie and the directors follow suit while the scowly woman hovers awkwardly.
‘I wonder, Mr Carrington, if you have a moment perhaps to give a quote for Mr Dunwoody’s website. He’s keen to provide a platform for local businesses; might be useful for you, considering your expansion plans,’ she says tightly to Tom, who glances at me. I nod and smile, wondering why she’s being so hostile. It’s clear she doesn’t share Dougie’s enthusiasm for Carrington’s.
‘Sure, why not?’ he says, before steering the woman towards a quieter part of the deck. I turn to Isabella.
‘It’s going to be so amazing,’ I beam, my head still buzzing with all the ideas.
‘I truly hope so, my dear.’ Isabella leans into me and lowers her voice until it’s almost inaudible. ‘Especially after all the effort my son has made for the store. He has worked wonders with Carrington’s, after all, not to mention his plans for expansion. It would be such a shame if you somehow managed to ruin it!’