Dreaming of Christmas Read online

  ‘Your bags, madam.’

  She hurried across to open the door and a different man in a green waistcoat carried her suitcase in and set it down on a solid bench against one wall. Zoë was still reaching into her handbag for her purse to give him a tip when he retraced his footsteps to the door and disappeared with just two words.

  ‘Goodbye, madam.’

  ‘Auf wiedersehen, danke.’

  It felt good to speak German again. She had done French and German at school and she had particularly liked German. There was something about the rigid mechanical structure of the sentences that appealed to her sense of organisation. She found she was looking forward to a bit of practice – assuming she managed to find an Austrian who didn’t already speak fluent English.

  She hung up her jacket and inspected the bathroom, which was ultra-modern, predictably immaculate, and almost as big as the bedroom she and Grant had shared at number 23. Thick towels were stacked on a rack and a fluffy white bathrobe with the hotel crest on the left breast hung on the back of the door. She checked herself in the mirror, washed her hands and decided to go and look for the others. And among the others, of course, would be Grant and his companion. She took a deep breath as she pulled her door closed behind her and set off down the corridor towards the lounge.

  She was only partway along the corridor when she was almost tripped by a black flash. Looking down, she saw the most adorable young black Labrador scrabbling at her shoes, tail wagging furiously.

  ‘Arnie, come back here.’

  She turned in the direction of the familiar voice and saw a figure coming down the corridor towards her, arms outstretched in welcome. The dog made no attempt to do as ordered and continued to nuzzle Zoë’s feet, scratching at her shoes with his disproportionately large paws.

  ‘Billy, is that you?’

  She realised that she wasn’t totally sure it was him. Billy, Computer Billy, had been recognisable by his unkempt hair and thick black-rimmed glasses, and his habit of always wearing two T-shirts – the inner one with long sleeves and the outer one with short sleeves, normally bearing the image of a superhero on the chest. The man coming towards her with a nervous smile on his lips was wearing a beautiful grey mohair V-neck jumper. He had no glasses, and his brown hair was impeccably styled, just touching the tops of his ears. He also looked altogether taller and quite a lot broader in the shoulders than the nerdy boy she remembered. If this was Billy, he’d had a serious makeover.

  ‘Zoë, how wonderful to see you.’

  It really was him.

  ‘And it’s great to see you, too, Billy.’

  It was patently obvious that her theory that he might be keeping a low public profile because he was still a scruffy nerd had just been blown out of the water. She stepped towards him, tripped over the dog, who had by now stretched himself across her feet, and literally fell into Billy’s arms. As he caught her, she couldn’t help feeling how strong his biceps had become. He’d obviously been working out.

  ‘Arnie, you little bugger, get out of the way.’

  Billy gave her a peck on both cheeks and then stepped back, studying her closely, the slightly nervous smile still on his face.

  ‘It really is great to see you.’ He sounded as if he meant it. ‘And you haven’t lost your knack for tripping over things, I see.’

  ‘I’m getting better – honest. It’s great to see you too. You’re looking good, Billy.’ And he was. In fact, if she hadn’t been expecting to see him, she would almost certainly have walked past without recognising him. There was genuine surprise in her voice as she asked: ‘What happened to the old Billy?’

  He released his hold on her and bent down to dissuade the dog from tearing her shoes to pieces.

  ‘Sorry about Arnie, he’s going through the chewing phase at the moment. He’s got a thing about shoes.’

  He straightened up again, his smile still a bit uncertain.

  ‘As for the old Billy, he’s still in here, even if the exterior has changed a bit.’ He grinned. ‘Believe me, it’s just a veneer – you’ll see. Underneath the new hairstyle – when I say “new”, I just mean hairstyle. There was no style involved back when we lived at number 23. I waited until the hair got in my eyes and then chopped it off. Anyway, underneath the new hairstyle and the contact lenses, there’s still little old me. But you, Zoë, you look just as beautiful as you did ten years ago – as if nothing has changed.’

  He must have spotted something in her expression.

  ‘But of course lots of things have changed for you, haven’t they? How’re you doing? I heard a rumour that you and Grant had split up, and when you both opted for single rooms, I realised it was true.’

  Zoë felt an immediate sense of relief. It appeared that Grant was not, after all, going to be accompanied by his new partner. Suddenly her whole Christmas looked rosier. She had been dreading having to spend a week in close confines with the other woman, knowing that inevitably her friends would be making comparisons between the two of them. This was the very best news she could have hoped for – apart, of course, from Grant maybe deciding to change his mind about coming at the last minute. But even though he evidently was still coming, the fact that he would be on his own came as a great relief. Fortified by this discovery, she was able to give Billy a big smile and reply in a fairly strong voice.

  ‘You’re right. We’ve split up.’ She wondered idly how he had heard about their break-up. Clearly the bush telegraph must extend all the way to Austria. ‘I’m afraid it all fell apart a year ago. In fact almost exactly a year ago.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘You were together for a long time, weren’t you? I thought it was a relationship that would last.’

  ‘So did I, Billy. So did I.’ As casually as she could, she did a little bit of digging. ‘So, did Grant say why he’s here alone?’

  Billy shook his head. ‘No, not really. He didn’t mention anybody. I’ll have to ask him.’

  ‘Not that it’s of any importance to me any more.’ Determined to stay upbeat, Zoë took his arm and gave it a squeeze. She saw him blush and realised he had been speaking the truth – underneath the well-groomed and, yes, handsome exterior, he was still timid old Billy. Her heart went out to him.

  ‘Anyway, all this is so very, very generous of you, Billy. It’s a fabulous place and I’m so terribly grateful.’

  He brushed away her thanks.

  ‘Don’t even think about it. I’ve had some good luck and the least I can do is share it with my old friends. I’m just delighted you accepted my invitation. Now, let’s go down to the lounge. Imogen and Fergus arrived a couple of hours ago, and Daniela, my wife, will be here a bit later.’

  Zoë glanced up at him in real surprise.

  ‘Congratulations, Billy. I didn’t know you’d got married. That’s fantastic.’

  As she spoke, she reflected that she had never even seen him with a girl when they were living at number 23. He had always had his nose buried in his computer. Mind you, that lifestyle choice certainly appeared to have worked out well for him. And, she thought to herself, this was already a juicy piece of news for her article – as long as Billy didn’t mind. She had decided, even if she felt sure Damien and the Ice Maiden would disapprove, that she would come clean and tell him what her editor had asked and get his approval, before sending anything back to the office. It was only right and proper.

  ‘So tell me about Arnie the dog. Is he yours?’

  As she asked the question, she felt mildly surprised that a luxury hotel like this allowed pets in the rooms.

  ‘He is now, though originally he belonged to my aunt here in Austria. She only got him in the summer, and then she died very unexpectedly three months ago. I said I’d take him for a few days after her death – and look at me now.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear about your aunt. What does your wife think about having a pup in the house to chew up all her lovely shoes?’

  For a moment Billy looked surprised. �
�She doesn’t mind. We’ve both got into the habit of putting everything away. In fact, having Arnie about the place has made me a hell of a lot tidier.’ He led her along the corridor. ‘So, here’s the lounge. Did Erika tell you this floor’s just for our group?’

  Zoë nodded as he pushed the door open and ushered her inside. She took a deep breath as she did so, expecting to see Grant in there. Instead, she only found Imogen and a man who was presumably her husband.

  As soon as Imogen spotted Zoë, she leapt to her feet and came hurrying across.

  ‘Zoë, how lovely to see you again after all this time.’

  She took hold of Zoë’s hands and air-kissed her theatrically before turning to introduce the friendly-looking man beside her. He was maybe a year or two older than them, and he was somewhat overdressed for a skiing holiday, wearing a smart dark suit and a tie bearing some kind of crest on it. Zoë nodded to herself – this was pretty much what she had been expecting. Imogen wasn’t the type to hitch herself to a jeans-and-jumper man. She herself was looking predictably elegant. Zoë knew very little about fashion, but she felt sure the dress Imogen was wearing would prove to have a designer label. Imogen had always been flashy like that – ‘all fur coat and no knickers’, as Zoë’s grandmother would have said.

  ‘And this is Fergus, my husband. We got married three years ago. I would have invited you, but I’ve lost touch a bit.’

  With social media these days, it would have been easy enough for Imogen to contact her, but Zoë made no comment. They hadn’t really been that close at university, so there was no reason she should have been invited to the wedding. She gave Fergus a smile and shook his outstretched hand.

  ‘Zoë, how good to meet you.’ There was a definite Scottish accent there – the sort of accent that inhabits the upper-class areas of Edinburgh rather than the shipyards of the Clyde. ‘Imogen’s told me so much about you.’

  ‘And Grant?’ Imogen was looking beyond Zoë and Billy.

  ‘Zoë and Grant split up a year ago,’ Billy stepped in to explain, and Zoë was grateful to him for his intervention. ‘Grant is here – he arrived on the Manchester flight early this morning – but he went snowboarding this afternoon and he hasn’t come back yet.’

  Yet again, Zoë felt a sense of relief, even though she knew this was merely putting off the inevitable.

  She took a good look round the room. It was a big space, dominated by a magnificent stove in one corner. This was almost the size of a wardrobe and made of decorative blue and white ceramic tiles. The heat coming off it made the room very, very cosy, and she noticed the dog make a beeline straight for the rug laid out in front of it.

  The rest of the room was charming, with fine-looking Persian carpets on the floor and stylish paintings hanging around the walls. There was a delightful Christmas tree, festooned with silver and gold baubles, in the opposite corner, and a sprig of mistletoe hung from the chandelier in the middle of the room. All around were comfortable-looking sofas and armchairs, and two tables against the wall behind them were loaded with cakes and biscuits, with many Austrian specialities. Zoë recognised sugar-sprinkled apple strudel, a delicious-looking Stollen, and a pile of pancakes, but some of the other delights on display were unfamiliar and intriguing.

  ‘Blimey, Billy. I can see that all the hard work I’ve been doing in the gym is going to be undone pretty quickly.’

  ‘It’s Christmas, Zoë. Let yourself go.’

  She looked up to see him smiling shyly at her.

  ‘Besides, if you feel like going out on the ski slopes, you’ll soon burn it off. It’s minus five or six outside in the mornings, and you’ll need a good few calories inside you just to keep out the cold.’

  ‘I certainly intend to do as much skiing as I can. What about you, Billy, do you ski?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, since we set up our centre of operations here in Austria, I’ve been doing quite a bit of it. Besides, I have relatives in Kitzbühel and I used to spend several weeks every year with them.’

  ‘I never knew that.’

  Zoë reflected that really she knew very little about him. Although they had lived under the same roof for a year, she had spoken to him infrequently – not because she didn’t like him, but because of his shyness and the fact that he spent so much of his time in his room, working at the computer. For her own sake, as much as for her article, she set out to find out more.

  ‘Your surname, Fischer with a “c” – does that mean you have Austrian roots?’

  Billy nodded. ‘My grandparents were Austrian, but they moved across to Britain after the war.’

  ‘And did you grow up speaking German?’

  ‘Not much at home, but every time I came here on holiday, I had to speak it.’

  ‘So you honed your German at the same time as your skiing. Good plan.’

  ‘And you’re a good skier too, I believe?’ He caught her eye for a moment. ‘At least, that’s what Grant told me this morning.’

  ‘I’m a bit out of practice, but yes, I do okay.’

  ‘We’ll have to ski together then.’ Billy turned to Imogen and Fergus. ‘What about you two? Do you ski?’

  ‘Fergus does. To be honest, I’d rather sit and watch.’

  Imogen clearly hadn’t changed. She had never been interested in exercise, and indeed, had sneered at anybody who was. This attitude had not endeared her to Grant, who had spent far more of his time playing sport than studying for his finals. The thought of Grant made Zoë glance across at the door, and just as she did so, she saw the handle turn. Her heart leapt – whether in anticipation or apprehension she didn’t have time to decide. As she looked on, the door opened and a figure appeared – but it wasn’t Grant.

  Instead, a very tall, slim, athletic-looking girl maybe a year or two younger than the rest of them stepped into the room. She was extremely beautiful, with long dark hair hanging around her shoulders, and she was wearing an expensive top and black yoga pants. When she saw Billy, her face broke into a smile, and she came across to greet him with a tender kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Ciao, Billy.’

  She had more than a hint of an Italian accent. Billy beamed at her and made the introductions.

  ‘Come and say hello to my old university friends. You guys, this is my wife, Daniela.’

  As Daniela did the rounds, shaking hands with everybody, Zoë checked her out. Apart from being very beautiful, it was clear that she thought the world of her husband, draping herself across him once she had said hello to them all. The expression on her face when she looked at him was brimming with love, and Zoë felt a twinge of envy at their happiness. Of course, she thought to herself rather cattily, the fact that Billy was a multimillionaire probably helped. Doing her best to put aside such churlish thoughts, she engaged Daniela in conversation.

  ‘So, how long have you two been married?’ She grinned. ‘And why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?’

  Daniela blushed and deferred to her husband.

  Billy shook his head. ‘Nobody was invited to the wedding, Zoë. We wanted to keep it a big secret. The trouble with being in the public eye is that once the paparazzi latch onto you, they never let you alone. I didn’t want to put Daniela through that.’ He smiled. ‘A little bird tells me you work for HC magazine. You won’t spill the beans, will you? I’ve worked really hard to try to maintain my privacy. You haven’t been sent to spy on me, have you?’

  Zoë blushed. ‘No, of course not…’

  ‘I’m just messing with you, Zoë. I know you’d never do anything like that. To be honest, though, I’m surprised that you’re working for a bunch like that. You’ve always been such a principled sort of person.’

  Zoë gulped. ‘And I still am, Billy. It’s a stopgap – I lost my previous job as a real journalist back in the spring.’ She did her best not to let the colour rush to her cheeks. Luckily, Imogen took over the questioning.

  ‘And how did you two meet?’

  This time Daniela answered, and from the way she
spoke, it was clear this wasn’t the first time she had told the story.

  ‘Billy gave me a job first, and proposed marriage afterwards.’ She smiled at their mystification. ‘He employed me as his personal trainer, and the more time we spent together, the closer we became.’

  ‘By the time she’d got my abs and my pecs into shape, I’d fallen in love with her.’ Billy kissed her gently on the cheek. ‘We got married three months ago in a secret location.’ He grinned. ‘But I can tell you guys – it was here in this very room.’

  ‘I thought Erika at the reception desk seemed to know you well,’ Zoë smiled at him. ‘You must be a regular visitor.’

  For a moment, there was a glimpse of the old bashful Billy as he answered.

  ‘To be quite honest, I actually own the hotel.’ Seeing their expressions of incredulity, he hastened to explain. ‘My accountants told me I should diversify my portfolio, so, seeing as our European base is now in Austria and I like skiing, it seemed like a good idea.’

  Here was yet another gem for Zoë’s article – if he ever approved her writing it.

  ‘So do you live here?’

  ‘I keep the suite at the end of the corridor for myself, but I’ve got a house down in Salzburg, which is where our offices are.’

  ‘Fancy owning a hotel…’ Imogen’s tone was awestruck. ‘It’s such a gorgeous place.’

  ‘I’m glad you like it.’

  Zoë was unsurprised to see Imogen gazing covetously across at Billy – or rather at his money. She cast a surreptitious glance at Imogen’s husband and caught a look of discomfort and maybe even annoyance on his face. She shook her head slowly. At least, she thought to herself, if Imogen and Fergus started having marital problems, it would divert attention from her own relationship issues with Grant.

  A few minutes later, Juliet arrived with Martin, Mandy and Bella. Not surprisingly, the little girl was immediately drawn first to the pup and then to the cakes and biscuits, and they all followed suit – including the Labrador. As they did so, Lorna arrived, freshly changed into remarkably conservative clothes, rather than the more outrageous outfits Zoë remembered her wearing back at number 23. She wondered if Lorna was planning to maintain her high-octane private life, or if a change was due. None of them was getting any younger, after all. Even Zoë herself, in spite of her protestations that she wasn’t interested in another man after the Grant debacle, had spent long hours wondering if she was somehow destined to end up on her own. It was an uncomfortable thought.