‘It’s incredible, isn’t it?’ Shayla said with a sigh of awe. ‘Even if I do say so myself.’
Despite the huge challenge ahead, the gloss of owning Firholme clearly hadn’t worn off for Shayla and Lottie didn’t blame her. Steps led up to the grand vestibule where double doors opened onto a drawing room, morning room and a ballroom complete with chandelier and three sets of double doors out onto the terrace. Even on this autumn day, the lake glittered in the valley, its surface reflecting the fells rising up on either side, with dark forests giving way to hills, which were still russet with bracken.
While it didn’t operate as a hotel, the ten bedrooms were perfect for accommodating wedding guests, parties and conferences. The numerous smaller rooms, hidden away at the rear of the building, were used as extra kitchens, and for storage and services. It always amused Lottie that the moment you opened a grand door onto a ‘working’ part of the house, the lavish wall coverings and parquet floors were replaced by the grey plaster and flagstones the servants would have been accustomed to.
Over the years, Firholme had been through various incarnations, including serving as a nursing home and a rather run-down hotel, until Shayla had bought it that summer and injected a load of cash to turn it into a prestige events and wedding venue.
It gave Lottie a good feeling to think that the house now provided jobs for twenty full- and part-time staff and many seasonal workers, plus accommodation for key staff like herself. She also liked to think about how Shayla, a self-made woman, now owned it and was determined to help her justify the investment and hard work that had been poured into restoring it.
Lottie had helped Shayla plan how the space would be used for weddings. Guests would gather for champagne on the terrace if it was warm or the drawing room on cold or wet days. The brides would enter via the vestibule with its elaborate oak staircase, before walking up the ‘aisle’ in the ballroom for the ceremony itself. Later, the space could be transformed for the reception and party.
Shayla raised her eyes to the chandelier hanging from the high ceiling in the ballroom. ‘I do think a photo shoot is a great idea. We could even make it a video,’ she said.
‘Even better. I’ll set it up right away,’ Lottie said enthusiastically. ‘I’ve also been thinking about the Christmas decorations for the house and working on a colour scheme.’
‘Really? Great minds think alike …’ Shayla cut in. ‘So have I! I’m very excited about …’ She opened her large handbag and pulled out a grey object. ‘This! I thought we could have a minimalist theme throughout Firholme this Christmas. Everyone’s doing understated chic these days. Well, what do you think?’
‘Um. It’s definitely very … understated,’ Lottie began, thinking the bauble in Shayla’s hand looked the same colour as the old long johns her grandad kept to clean his shed windows. She couldn’t visualise the drab decorations adorning the Christmas trees of Firholme.
‘Exactly what I thought.’ Shayla clapped her hands together. ‘Now, take a look at these samples I ordered from the web.’ She handed Lottie a black snowflake decoration. ‘They do a complete range in steel, charcoal, gunmetal and if we do think we need a bit of bling, they do a new line of pewter tinsel …’
‘Pewter tinsel?’ Lottie said. ‘That’s um, different.’
‘Yes. I can’t wait to see them on the Christmas trees. How lucky are we to have our own Christmas tree plantation? It was the icing on the cake when I bought the place, a valuable source of revenue at a quiet time of year. And how lovely to tell couples we have our own home-grown trees and greenery for their winter weddings.’
‘We’d need to get the Christmas trees and decorations in place earlier than planned if we want a photo shoot,’ Lottie said. ‘I’ve already arranged to meet Jay Calder up at the plantation this morning to talk about the Christmas tree sales opening day so I’ll ask him about the trees for the house at the same time.’
‘Great.’ Shayla smiled. ‘Have you had much contact with him yet? I expect you two will be chatting over the garden fence already.’
‘We’ve said hello a couple of times and I’ve seen him out walking with his dog, but that’s all.’ She smiled. ‘I expect he’s still settling in. He doesn’t know us yet.’
Lottie was being charitable. Jay had given her the briefest of nods and a polite but brief response to her attempt at conversation.
She’d also received an equally brief reply to her email requesting a meeting about the Christmas tree centre. She’d heard music through the wall and the dog – Trevor – barking from time to time, but there had been no sign of visitors. If he wanted his privacy, she respected that. She guarded her own private life just as keenly after all that had happened to her over the past year.
‘I think he likes to keep himself to himself,’ Lottie said.
‘I’m sure you can draw him out of his shell. He comes with very good references. We were lucky to lure him away from Greythwaite Hall.’
‘I hadn’t realised he’d been working in such a big estate.’ Lottie was impressed. Greythwaite Hall was a large stately home in the northern Lake District with far bigger acreage than Firholme; Jay must surely have been earning more there.
‘Yes, quite a coup to get him – you too, of course,’ Shayla added quickly. ‘I’m gathering a great team around me. I never thought we’d find anyone suitable for estates manager, and they don’t tend to move around once they’ve got a place they like, but Jay said he wanted a fresh challenge and,
