Emma leaned out of her office window and gazed across the lush green valley and glistening river. Below, visitors were rolling through the castle’s ancient iron gates, bumping over the drawbridge by car, coach, and foot excitedly laden with rucksacks and tickets. It was the opening day of the castle’s annual Storytelling Festival.
Emma had been looking forward to this since she’d joined the castle estate’s marketing team six months ago as an assistant. It was her first job since returning to work after having her first child, Benji. She had taken a few years out to look after him before he started primary school.
She loved being a mum, but being out of the workplace for a few years had knocked Emma’s confidence a bit. Landing this part-time creative role set in such beautiful surroundings had definitely been a boost. Emma still felt like something was missing in her work life, though.
She hadn’t quite found that thing that made her heart sing yet. Phones were ringing in the office background; a familiar patter of keypads tapping; the kettle whistling its morning tune as clean coffee mugs clattered in the kitchen; the biscuit tin rattling. Outside, small bright marquees and colourful costumes dotted and dashed between the dark green forest and sun-drenched riverside.
There were face painting stands, refreshment bars, picnic areas, and a market of “ye olde”-style stalls winding down from the castle steps to a vast open green space. Paper lanterns covered in scri.