Page 49 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“Well, now I just feel sorry for her,” Harriet harrumphed.
“Don’t. She’s a difficult, spiteful, selfish woman, and I say that as someone who genuinely likes her. There are plenty of people who’ve had it a lot worse than Evaline who have seen their way to be far nicer humans. But her history helps me to understand her, and that in turn enables me to represent my client’s interests to the best of my ability.” He checked his watch. “I have to make a call, but I’d like to join the group afterward if that’s okay?”
She smiled and said that it was. He was a conundrum. His emotional intelligence was very attractive. But his willingness to work for a woman so wholly unpleasant gave her pause. Then again, he was a solicitor, that was his job…and then her phone chimed with a call from a parent, and her contemplations were pushed to the back of the queue.
Fifteen
By Thursday evening, Harriet wasbeginning to feel the pressure. Four weeks from today there would be a theater full of punters expecting to watchA Christmas Carolon the stage. She still hadn’t heard back from Gideon’s Great Foss Players. And her quest for costumes had been a bust; Cornell had got wind that she’d been sweet-talking the drama department technician for wardrobe loans and had sent her a snitty email.
It felt like too much of her time was spent putting out small fires instead of concentrating on the blaze. Today was a case in point: she’d attended four compulsory departmental meetings and proxied for Cornell in three others because he declared them to be a waste of his time. Most often her presence was merely an exercise in box-ticking, and she was always left with a bubbling undercurrent of frustration at having to neglect the more practical elements of her job.
Now she was sitting on a chair on a stage listening to a bunch of teenagers and a grown man bicker like toddlers in a sandpit. She was tired, cold, and hangry. The four cardigans over her pinafore might have been made of chiffon for all the good they were doing, and the fearsome draft around her ankles was making her long for Jane Fonda–style leg warmers.
“I didn’t make the rules,” said James when Ricco threw his arms in the air dramatically. “We’d have to pay a licensing fee for the copyright toA Christmas Carolthe musical, which takes it off the table. End of.”
Thus far he had managed to successfully shoot down all their ideas without a hint of positive reinforcement. He would really benefit from the “unconditional positive regard” workshop she and Ali had arranged for the last professional development day at Foss.
“Let’s not be too hasty,” Harriet interjected. “Ricco, I like your idea of introducing a musical element; I’m sure there must be a way around it. I don’t think we need to take singing off the table entirely.”
James rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. God forbid you agree with me.”
Harriet ignored him and picked up her phone to search theater licenses. The bickering continued around her.
At least Leo was happy. He had spread one of the backcloths out across the freshly mopped stage and was diligently drawing out the images from his sketchbook. He expressed himself via his hair color and his artwork, which was preferable; the last time his emotional dam burst, a chair had gone through a window.
“You’re a lawyer.” Ricco looked accusingly at James. “You must know about loopholes. Isn’t that how you keep rich white people out of prison?”
Oh gawd, here we go again!She scrolled down the government website to the section she needed.
“Dude! Nice burn,” said Billy, holding up his hand, which Ricco gleefully high-fived.
“That is both presumptive and offensive, and I will not dignify it with a response.” James’s tone was condescending.
“I will not dignify that with a response,” Carly mimickedin a voice so laden with snobbery that Harriet had to stifle a snicker behind a cough. She felt James glaring at her.
“Found it!” She held up her phone triumphantly. “Evaline will need to acquire, if she hasn’t already, a public performance license if she wants the theater to be fit for purpose. So, while I don’t think we have the time to get a whole musical under our belts, you could choose a couple of songs that would fit with the play, and we would be covered by the theater’s license.”
Phew! Another crisis averted.Although James was looking at her like she’d just wiped a bogey on his suit trousers.
“Ooh, Kate Winslet sang ‘What If’ for one of the animated versions. I’ve learned all the words to that one already!” Carly was bouncing on her chair. Her mood this evening was the complete opposite to that of the night before.
“Yeah, that’s a good one,” agreed Ricco. “I know it too. Done my Chazzer Dick homework!”
“I’m not sure we should nickname one of Britain’s finest writers Chazzer Dick,” said Harriet.
“Nicknames are affectionate, miss,” offered Isabel.
“I trust that after all this you can actually sing?” James’s tone was snippy; he was clearly still smarting after Ricco’s last remark.
“Oh, I can vouch for that,” Harriet jumped in quickly. “They sang a Taylor Swift duet in the Foss end-of-year talent show, they were incredible.”
“I love that you’re such a Swiftie, miss,” said Leo, looking up from his backcloth.
“I cannot deny that Taylor Swift has my whole heart,” Harriet said, smiling.
“Are you a Swiftie, James?” Isabel asked.
He looked discombobulated. “Um, I’m not sure I know much of her work.”
