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though? This was not a one-man band with an online shop. This was the styling of one of the windows, albeit a very tiny one, of one of the most prestigious shops in the country, possibly the world.

She sat back in her chair and started to rack her brains. Nothing came up. Not a sausage. She couldn't think of a single thing that would put her brand, her feel, the aura of A Christmas Sparkle into the window of Lellery. She started to scroll through her vintage boards on Pinterest. A few things caught her eye and she started a private board for the job, but overall, there was nothing that was grabbing her, and the one thing that Juliette had learnt in all her years of all things Christmas was that something did and would jump out - it was just never very obvious when, and if, it was going to come.

She opened a small notebook she kept on her desk for ideas and leafed through it. A vintage sleigh drowning in the baubles? Already been done many times by many other people. The blackboard theme? Also not very original. A huge wreath completely constructed with the baubles. She put bauble wreath into the search bar, and many had been there and done that.

Juliette closed everything down, got up from her desk, walked out into the kitchen, and called out to Maggie.

β€˜Darling, are you ready for our bike ride? Do you want a snack before we go?’

Maggie came bounding in from the sitting room, Delilah under her arm. β€˜Yes, please.’

β€˜Okay. What would you like?’

β€˜A Marmite sandwich, please.’

β€˜You’re very easy to please, you know that? I might just have to join you in one myself,’ Juliette replied as she took four slices of bread out of the bread bin, smooshed some butter into a small bowl, added a dollop of Marmite, mixed it all up, and then spread it onto the bread.

β€˜Right, let’s sit out in the garden and eat these and then we’ll pop out for our bike ride. We’ll stop at Maisy’s later on the way home if you like. Anywhere else you'd like to go?’

Maggie, who was polishing off the sandwich as if she’d not eaten for days, put her head to the side as if Juliette had asked her a very serious question. β€˜I would like to go to those swings near our old house.’

β€˜Which ones?’

β€˜The one with the round swings.’

β€˜Oh yes. The swings down the end of Seapocket Lane. I’d completely forgotten about those. Too easy, Maggie. We’ll ride over there and make the most of the sunshine.’

***

Juliette sailed along behind Maggie with the breeze coming in off the sea in her hair, and called out, β€˜Yep, stop at the end there and press the button for the crossing.’ She caught up with Maggie and they waited for the green man to go off, crossed the road, and then they started to cycle down Seapocket Lane, veered off at the end towards the beach and stopped at the play park.

Juliette leant their bikes up against a picnic table, sat down on the bench and with her chin on her hands gazed at Maggie swinging wildly back and forth on the swing and the sea glistening in the distance.

Her eyes roved around the small grassy park and then caught sight of the weather vane on the very top of the domed Orangery roof. She sat there thinking about the Orangery and how she’d used to love glimpsing that from the bedroom in the eaves at the top of Seapocket Lane. She thought about the Orangery and when she’d been there with Sallie, how lovely it smelt - that heady mix of earthy smells and botanicals.

And then all of a sudden it came to her. Yes! Simple, effective, and original. She would style her vintage window like the Orangery. She would use the idea she’d had for Sallie and the decorations the Christmas before, and adapt it to her Lellery collaboration baubles. Genius.

Chapter 48

Juliette inhaled the gorgeous smell of the old-fashioned roses trailed all the way around the door of the Orangery, keyed in the number on the keypad, heaved open the huge old door and stepped in. It smelt amazing. Earthy and botanical and somehow floral at the same time.

She stood still and looked at the huge, old arched windows, the tessellated floor, and the beautiful intricate brickwork. It was all very well thinking what a great idea it was to use the look of the Orangery for the window display, but a rather harder job to actually translate that into something tangible she could put into a spreadsheet and into a window in the West End of London. She strolled around and then called her friend Sallie.

β€˜I just don't know how I’d be able to replicate it now that I’m in here. I mean the whole beauty of the place is the building, the uniqueness of it, the vast feel, the scent even. How can I transplant that into a small window looking out onto a busy street in the middle of London?’

β€˜Yeah, I see what you mean. I remember when I first looked at it and stepped in with Shane Pence. It’s almost like you can’t put your finger on what it is in there and that’s why it works.’

β€˜Yes, exactly,’ Juliette said looking up at the domed roof.

β€˜Could you scour around for old arched windows? Somehow prop them up as the backdrop? Work the baubles all through that?’

β€˜Yeah, I did think that. I just had a quick look at online auctions for vintage windows, there are a few...’ Juliette trailed off as she ran a hand along one of the old trestle tables stacked in the corner ready for upcoming weddings.

β€˜I’m trying to think back to the Where the Heck is Pretty Beach? competition and what we did there. Remember? It was magical. I’m just getting it up on my phone.’

β€˜I had a look at those pictures too. The problem with that is

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