Emily and Mrs Fenwick embraced and giggled together conspiratorially like schoolgirls.
Holly smiled to herself as she carried the surplus packaging from the vase into the back office. Emily didn’t have a clue that this afternoon she’d kindly provided her with a masterclass in how to sell the most expensive items.
She pushed the box and bubble wrap into the waste materials corner of the small room, ready for collection by the warehouse staff.
When she turned to leave, a handwritten list on the desk caught her attention.
It was a breakdown of bottom-line sales prices for all the items currently on display in the store. Josh had shown her a similar list on her first day.
‘You can check here how far you can discount the more expensive items to give our regular customers the best deal,’ he’d explained.
Holly shook her head in disbelief when she read the top line:
Haus of Rome feather boa lamps – ￡1,250 the pair.
The Fenwicks had just paid ￡350 over the odds for their lamps, and yet they’d been made to feel they’d been given a very special one-off deal to reward their loyalty to Kellington’s.
Emily had added a very nice fifteen per cent boost – at the higher price – to her commission total for the month.
The following day, Holly witnessed her colleague using exactly the same method on different customers when she sold a pricey mirrored coffee table for twenty per cent higher than the back-room list price.
You had to hand it to her. She knew exactly how to sell to Kellington’s wealthiest customers, each time securing herself a very generous bonus in the process.
They all thought they were her special VIP clients, receiving a preferential service from Kellington’s top saleswoman, but of course, the last laugh was always on them, as they fell for Emily’s flattery hook, line and sinker.
Holly got the distinct feeling that when it came to boosting her own salary, there was much to be learned from her colleague.
Emily appeared to have an instinctive sense of what made people tick.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Holly
On arriving home from work each day, Holly walked down the side of the house and used the back door, which led directly into the kitchen.
It was a large room, with mismatched, dated units. No work island or breakfast bar; just a small wooden table in the centre of the room that now, thanks to David, had two chairs pulled up to it.
‘Hello?’ she called out to Cora, as was her habit upon stepping into the house. ‘Oh!’
She stopped and closed the door softly behind her. Cora sat at the table with a man who looked to be in his mid forties. There were two mugs on the table, and some paperwork.
Cora looked up and smiled.
‘Holly, this is Mr Brown. He lives two doors down; it’s the house with the green front door and the mature weeping willow in the garden.’
‘You make it sound very grand, Cora.’ Mr Brown grinned. ‘Hello, Holly.’
‘Hello,’ Holly said shyly.
He was a good-looking man in an outdoors type of way, with a ruddy complexion and light-brown hair. He wore a checked shirt and khaki combats that somehow held the suggestion of toned muscle lying below them.
He stood up and inspected his hand before extending it to her. ‘Just checking I’m not covered in soil. It’s the gardener’s curse.’
They smiled at each other and Holly felt Cora’s eyes on her.
‘Mr Brown is here to do the garden,’ Cora said from behind him.
‘My name’s Nick, by the way.’ He sat back down. ‘Mr Brown makes me sound a bit like a bank manager.’
Holly laughed.
‘Well, I wouldn’t presume to introduce you so informally on your first meeting with my visitor, Nicholas,’ Cora said with a tight smile. ‘One has to at least try and preserve a few manners these days, wouldn’t you agree?’
It hadn’t escaped Holly’s notice that Cora always introduced her to other people by her first name.
‘I was just showing Cora a few sketches of some plans for the garden,’ Nick said, turning a couple of sheets around on the tabletop so Holly could see.
‘It all seems very modern,’ Holly said, surprised that Cora approved of such a lack of traditional features. ‘Decking and a pond. Lovely.’
‘Nicholas is very talented.’ Cora beamed.
‘You’re making me blush now.’ He glanced at the wall clock. ‘Oh well, I’d better get on. Thanks for the tea and the chat, Cora.’
‘Any time, Nicholas.’ Cora smiled. ‘You know that.’
‘Are you starting it soon… the landscaping work?’ Holly asked.
‘Oh no, we’re still at the planning stage,’ Nick said. ‘I’m just here to mow the lawns today.’
‘I’ll take another look at the sketches and let you know which one I prefer next week,’ Cora said, gathering up the paperwork. She looked at Holly. ‘I’ve just a few bits to finish off upstairs and then we can have tea together, dear.’
After the long day at work on her feet, Holly’s heart sank at the thought of another long night ahead filled with Cora’s endless nostalgia. She hadn’t been sleeping that well, so felt doubly exhausted.
Last night she’d sat up in bed for ages, sifting through what felt like thousands of Facebook profiles, trying and failing to find the right ones.
She seemed to be able to drop off to sleep no problem, but then regrets and unresolved pain from her past tended to resurface with a vengeance in the early hours and savage her with the ferocity of a terrier until dawn finally broke.
Nick went outside and Holly heard Cora’s heavy footfall ascending the stairs. Still clutching her handbag, and with her shoes and short rain mac on, she stood at the kitchen window and watched as Nick wrestled Cora’s antiquated mower out of the shed.
He’d slipped off his fleecy checked shirt and now worked in a pale green T-shirt. As he pulled the mower out, his back muscles rippled under the thin fabric. When he turned, his toned biceps grew taut.
To her horror, he looked up sharply and grinned at her.
She took a step back, but it was too late. He knew she’d been watching him.
He beckoned to her, and as it would be rude to ignore him, she opened the door and stepped down onto the paved patio area.
Her attention was diverted when a ruddy-faced man leaned over David’s side of the fence.
‘Alright love? Just wanted to say hello, with you being new and all that. I’m Brian.’
He leaned his forearms over the fence and she saw that they were heavily tattooed.
‘Hello,’ she said tentatively. ‘I’m Holly. Pleased to meet you.’
‘On your own, are you?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Moved in here on your own? No boyfriend or anything.’
Her flesh crawled.
‘Oh, yes… sorry, I just have to have a word with…’ she pointed to Nick and fortunately, he turned off the mower and came over.
A few long strides and he was next to her and the man drifted back up the garden.
‘How are you finding it then, life on Baker Crescent?’ Nick said.
‘I… well, everyone seems very nice,’ she stammered, willing the heat in her face to do one. ‘Cora has been very good to me.’
‘Hmm. She can be an eccentric old bat at times. Goes on a bit with her stories, but I’m very fond of her.’ He nodded. ‘Have you had the misfortune of meeting your other neighbours yet?’
He nodded to the house next door.
‘You mean David? Yes, we’ve met.’
He watched her steadily but didn’t comment. She felt he somehow wanted more from her, and so she began babbling to allay her embarrassment.
‘I met his mum, Pat, briefly too. They seem very nice. In fact, I’m working at Kellington’s in town, where David is a parking attendant.’
‘Watch him,’ Nick hissed.
‘Sorry?’ She swallowed.
‘David.’ He kept his voice low. ‘Watch him. That’s all I’m saying.’
She felt a flush rise from her neck. ‘I… I’m not sure what…’
‘Some people pretend to be one thing when really they’re something else altogether… if you get my drift.’
‘I’m not sure I do,’ she said slowly. ‘Do I need to be worried?’