Alexandra Brown - Christmas at Carrington’s

Now the initial shock is starting to wear off, I’m devastated. And really hurt if I’m totally honest. I feel like a fool. A fool for thinking that Tom trusted me. Obviously not enough to share this monumental revelation, and it can’t have happened overnight. He must have been ‘in talks’, as he likes to say, with the TV channel for absolutely ages, but he didn’t even think to utter a word about it. And like a fool I fell for his smouldering looks and fun-loving attitude. And I took in Mr Cheeks for him. I even read up on Renaissance art just so I could appear cultured and educated, show an interest in his passion for painting. It just goes to show that you can’t trust anyone these days. And those big hardback arty books don’t come cheap either.

I glance back at the screen in time to hear Kelly talking directly into the camera.

‘Seems these shop girls are more interested in having a good time than serving you. ’ And to emphasise her point, she sticks her index finger out, just like Lord Kitchener in that wartime poster. All she needs is the leather queen moustache.

‘ Awks! ’ Eddie sniggers like a smartarse, making me wish I could reach inside the phone to slap him.

‘Stop it.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, sweetcheeks, really I am. Ignore her. It’s probably all for the cameras. You know how these TV personalities like to mix things up a bit. Honestly, it’s not that bad. Quite exciting, in fact … just think, you’re going to be an actual star – nothing less than you deserve, of course,’ he states. ‘The camera obviously loves you, petal, and one day you’ll look back and laugh too. Promise. It’s just the shock of the surprise, that’s all. I’m your best friend, and as such it’s my job to tell you if you look ridic … but you don’t, you honestly don’t. Quite the opposite. Sassy and magnificent.’ I ignore him.

‘But how dare she?’

Something isn’t right, because we never neglect customers. I don’t understand how they’ve managed to make it look as though we do. Sam squeezes my free hand tightly and gives me a reassuring but tentative grin. ‘And who says, “shop girls” anyway, these days? Talk about old-fashioned!’

‘Don’t worry, lover, I bet you know much more than she does about retail sales. Just focus on the fabulous perks that are going to be surging your way,’ Eddie says. ‘Yep. It’s move over TOWIE and Made In Chelsea and Hello Carringtonnnnn’s! ’ he sings, like he’s about to star in the next West End musical theatre smash hit.

Well, we’ll see about that.

‘I have to go,’ I say in a trance-like state to end the call, and I drop my phone down onto the carpet. I really thought Tom and I had something. Something really special. I had even started to think he might be the real deal. Everyone says you just know when you meet your one, and that’s exactly how I felt right from the very first moment I saw him. I was standing by the help-yourself salad bar in the staff canteen with my cheeks flushing and my mouth actually hanging open. He’s the quintessential tall dark gorgeous guy. Kind. Especially to animals. Calm. Impeccably mannered. Generous. Intelligent. Artistic. Gentle. Sometimes cheeky. Fantastic in bed. But how wrong was I? If he doesn’t even trust me enough to mention something as epic as Carrington’s starring in a reality TV show, then what does that say about our relationship? He obviously doesn’t feel the same way. And I’m so glad I held back on mentioning the L word. I grab my phone back up and punch out his number. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say for himself.

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