A Perfect Paris Christmas - Mandy Baggot Page 0,74
– but they were somehow the largest strides she had made since the accident. It was acknowledgement that she was here and she wanted to embrace the life she had, for however long it lasted. Because no one knew, did they? She might already know that the longevity of the current oldest person in the world might not be hers to grasp but, just like everyone else, she didn’t have a date in the calendar to plan to. All anyone had was the here and now and the hope of a later.
‘I’ve almost wasted the last year,’ Keeley admitted suddenly. ‘Worrying.’
‘Well…’ Rach began. ‘We all do that sometimes. Look at me, worrying about how to trump Jamie in the overtime stakes and the buying Roland gifts stakes, all because I know that bribery and corruption will get me ahead at House 2 Home.’
‘Well, I’ve let everyone tell me what to do. My mum, the woman in Asda who told me burnt-orange was this season’s colour… I even asked one of Mr Peterson’s dead stoats for advice the last time I was there. What kind of insanity is that?’
‘I’ve tried to tell you what to do,’ Rach said, somehow seeming affronted. ‘And you didn’t listen to me. Now you’re telling me you favoured a dead stoat over your alive best friend?’
‘Why can’t I start my business over again?’ Keeley asked herself as much as Rach. ‘Why did I let my mum make me give up that dream?’
‘Why don’t I just apply for a senior negotiator job at another firm where I might be respected for my skills in negotiating rather than my short skirts and coffee-making?’
‘Rach,’ Keeley gasped. ‘You are appreciated for your skills… aren’t you?’
Rach shrugged. ‘I want more too. I don’t shop at Price Squash because I prefer it to Harrods, you know.’
There was a Christmas tree in a cobbled pedestrian section now, its decorated fronds swaying gently with the breeze and as they approached it, Keeley marvelled at the multi-coloured décor. There were CDs with writing and drawings on them, like the local children had added wishes for Santa. Wishes and dreams. She deserved them, didn’t she? Rach deserved them too.
Rach stood next to her. ‘Talking about you… I think we all just thought you probably wanted to do something simpler now. Not have the worries of a business-owner. Let Roland take care of public liability and all that.’
‘But why did I do that?’ Now Keeley was almost calling out to the universe for answers. A passer-by gave her an odd look then hurried into an ivy-covered brasserie. ‘Bea would have hated the fact that I’d given up on my dream.’ Her sister had been her biggest supporter, always giving her opinion on fabric and pattern. Bea might have been all the practical and mechanical by nature, but she had also loved a quirky print and the feel of silk under her fingertips. ‘And I hate it too. It’s stupid and… ridiculous.’
Wherever this wake-up call was coming from, Keeley was embracing it and being mindful in the moment. She grinned at Rach then, suddenly feeling like she could take on the world.
‘Rach, we are going to move in together after Christmas,’ she said with utter determination. ‘Like we talked about. You don’t want to live with Bertram anymore and I don’t want to feel like my every decision has a government five-point plan.’ She drew in a breath. ‘And I am going to start my business again. Maybe I’ll have to start working out of home to begin with, maybe those clients I had lined up originally will have gone with someone else but… the one guarantee is, people will always want nice things to… make them happy.’
And by nice she really didn’t mean expensive. Maybe that could be her USP. Most interior designers she had worked with before, had focused on the elite clients, the ones who wanted slightly mad things like a coffee table combined with an aquarium full of lionhead goldfish or curtains made from their children’s handprints. Perhaps Keeley could focus on her type of ‘nice’. The relaxed and comfortable that made her heart sing, but something a step up from rearranging lounge furniture and choosing travel books as props. Practical, yet beautiful solutions for modern day family living…
When Keeley turned away from the Christmas tree and back to Rach, her best friend was looking at her a little differently.
‘What?’ Keeley asked, following the question up with a nervous swallow. ‘Do you think I’m