Mistletoe in Manhattan

Chapter 2

‘You said what?’ In the warmth of the house, my parents stared at me in horror. Make-up and costumes off, they’d returned to their usual selves: Mum in her daily outfit of corduroy trousers and patterned knit sweater; Dad clad in faded jeans and the old robe Mum kept trying to throw away. On my weekend visits from university in Leeds, I’d loved that they’d never changed. Now, though, the sameness of their lives and the village threatened to close in. I needed to get out, and this was my chance to do it.

‘Look.’ I paused, straining to think of a reason accepting this job was the right move. Mum and Dad were savvy about their business – even though it remained small-scale, they’d done a great job building up its reputation. ‘Imagine all the new clients we’ll get once we’ve worked for Dean Layton! And there are only a couple parties left to do next week; you can handle them without me. If you need to, I’m sure Lucy’s available to fill in.’ My parents had hired our next-door neighbour’s Labradoodle to help schmooze party-goers when I’d been at university. Apparently she’d been a big hit, especially with her reindeer antlers.

‘Love, are you sure you have the experience to deal with this? Not that we doubt you,’ Mum added quickly. ‘We know you did that fancy marketing degree, but well . . . these celebrities are in a different league than our normal clientele.’

Tell me about it. ‘I’m confident I can pull it off, no problem,’ I said, railroading over the tiny pocket of hesitation. Party-planning isn’t rocket science, I reminded myself. It was all down to logistics, and God knows I could organise those with my eyes shut.

‘If the party’s on the twenty-third, you will be here for Christmas Eve, right?’ Dad looked at me sternly. ‘We can’t have Christmas without our Holly.’

‘Of course.’ A thrill of excitement went through me – they were going to say yes! ‘I’ll be back for sure.’ I’d never spent a Christmas away from home; the thought was close to sacrilege in my parents’ minds. Just once, I’d have loved joining my friends as they lounged on beaches in the Caribbean or took off on cheap chalet skiing holidays, but Mum and Dad wouldn’t hear of it.

‘And you’ll fly out this Monday?’ An expression of alarm crossed Mum’s face. ‘Dear, you’ll have to tell them you’ll go later. You can’t miss the village tree-lighting ceremony!’

Only Mum would think the lighting ceremony was more important than a party for Dean Layton. Little Missington’s Christmas tree was a sorry affair. Donated by the local hardware shop, the owner wasn’t exactly known for his generosity. One year, the tree was barely as tall as Lucy the Labradoodle, and all its needles had fallen off before the big day.

‘I’m sure it’s okay to skip the ceremony this once. Anyway, there’s so much to do, I need to head to Manhattan as soon as possible.’

Mum nodded. ‘I suppose. I’ll get Dad to take a video so you can catch the highlights. Good luck, dear. If anyone can bring the Christmas spirit to New York, it’s our Holly!’

I forced a grin, thinking it’d kill my parents if they knew how ironic that sentiment actually was.

The weekend passed in a blur as I developed the ten-page party prospectus requested by Elsa, listing possible plans for Dean’s bash. It had taken hours, but as I’d emailed off the report, I was proud of the ideas I’d put together. I couldn’t wait to see Dean’s reaction.

I’m going to Manhattan! I’m going to Manhattan! I repeated the phrase over and over, unable to believe it was true. Even now – as the plane descended through grey clouds to make its final approach to LaGuardia airport – the phrase echoed in my mind.

‘Hun, are you okay?’ My seatmate, a large woman stuffed into a mothball-scented fur coat, glanced over at me. Realising I’d been repeating the words aloud, I nodded and clamped my lips shut.