Although, she supposed, it might help, of course. Push them over the line. Get lots more punters in, generate a bit of publicity. Every little bit helped.

She messaged Sofia, asking her to announce it on that terrifying mothers grapevine she had, and sighed. Maybe it would be a huge success and he’d give interviews announcing, “Oh, I couldn’t have done it without my Carmen.”

Maybe.

AFTER LUNCH, THE very tall, posh book rep Ramsay came in.

“Hello!” he said, smiling at Carmen, who was still deep in thought and had been too scared to ask Skylar if she’d heard from Blair the previous evening. “Wow, I can’t believe the difference you’ve made to this place!” He glanced back. Outside were two small boys, gripped in fascination by the train set.

“Sorry,” he said. “I had to bring them—baby Hugh is teething and Zoe is up to her eyeballs. They’ve been an absolute pain in the neck all the way down if that helps.”

“That’s okay, bring them in.”

“Are you sure? I’ll try and get them not to turn the place into a nightmare . . .”

“It’s okay,” said Carmen. “I’m used to kids. Actually, there’s lots coming in at about three for a story time.”

“Oh, cool. Hey, look. I dug this out in a house clearance in Kinross—isn’t it beautiful?”

And he showed her hardback editions of the Winter Tales of the Faeries series, stunningly illustrated with bookplates.

“I’ve never even heard of these.”

“Legends from the deep north,” said Ramsay, “to be shared over a yule log, I should think.”

Carmen picked one up entitled The Shining Star, which had the most beautiful raised engraving of a shepherd and a lamb on its leather-bound cover. “Oh, this is gorgeous.”

“Thought you’d like it,” said Ramsay, looking around. “Are you going to skin me again for it? Wow, it’s getting more Christmassy in here every day.”

He beckoned the two boys forward and they stomped in, dinging the bell loudly. The slightly smaller one gasped in awe. The other, who was dressed in a button-down shirt and tie for some reason, looked around in quite a calculating manner.

Mr. McCredie materialized beside Carmen. “Ramsay,” he said, wreathed in smiles. “What have you been foraging for us today?” He looked down. “And is this . . . it isn’t . . . is this Patrick?”

“Well, of course I am Patrick,” said the boy.

Mr. McCredie looked at Ramsay. “You brought him here once when he was a baby! And I have scarcely seen him since.”

“I know,” said Ramsay. “Things got a little hectic.” He smiled.

“Ramsay fell in love with the nanny,” McCredie helpfully supplied to Carmen.

Carmen smiled. “Good money-saving technique.”

To his credit, Ramsay laughed. “You’d think,” he said. “Still skint, though.”