Opening the opulent silk curtains in her bedroom, Carrie gasped at the beauty of the morning as winter sunlight shone on the garden. With the dusting of frost that had settled on the trees, it looked as if nature had started the Christmas decorating already.
Downstairs, she put the kettle on the giant range and set about making Jim, the gardener, some breakfast. She’d not been working at Granthall Manor long, but she’d soon learnt the ropes.
Jim came in rubbing his hands, his cheeks ruddy from the cold. He grinned as she put a steaming cup of tea and a bacon sarnie in front of him, along with a pot of her homemade ketchup.
‘You’re a diamond,’ he said. ‘This lot don’t deserve you.’
There was a click of heels on expensive stone flooring. ‘I heard that,’ Penny the PA tutted. ‘You’d better watch what you say, Jim, because “this lot”, as you refer to Mr and Mrs Forbes-Fletcher, are arriving this evening.’
Jim grunted and rolled his eyes, but Carrie leapt into action. If the bosses were arriving, she had shopping to do and meals to create.
When Cooks Galore, her agency, had sent her for the interview with Mr Forbes-Fletcher, Carrie had expected him to be just another spoilt City banker. But he had kind eyes that glowed when he talked about his new wife and teenage twins from his previous marriage, so she’d taken the job.
Years earlier, when Carrie had sadly parted from her husband, she’d given up
