Dreaming of Christmas Read online

  They both smiled back at her as Billy answered.

  ‘I hope you do. As I said, I’ve got to pop down to Salzburg tomorrow, otherwise I’d come skiing with you. The day after, hopefully.’

  ‘Definitely.’

  She turned back towards the others – Grant included – and gave them a little wave.

  ‘Goodnight, everybody. See you in the morning.’ She let her smile broaden. ‘And tomorrow, we’re going skiing! I’ve been dreaming of this for months.’

  Back in her room, she pulled out her laptop and typed a few notes – married, owner of hotel, speaks German, Austrian heritage – just to remind her. However, the more she got to know Billy, and particularly after what he had said about HC magazine, she felt very dubious whether the article would ever be written. One thing was for sure – there was no way she was going to betray his trust, even if she had a feeling her refusal to obey her boss’s orders might end up costing her her job.

  Chapter 6

  Zoë woke up after a wonderful night’s sleep wrapped in her blissfully warm duvet and stretched luxuriously. Although she had only used half of the massive bed, she had ended up rolled snugly into the whole king-size duvet as though it was a cocoon. For a moment she remembered how often Grant had complained at her habit of hogging the covers, but she immediately suppressed the memory, deciding that the thought of Grant and her bed in the same breath was not welcome. Even so, she soon found herself thinking back to what she had seen of him so far, and she had to admit – albeit grudgingly – that her first impression had been remarkably positive. He was looking good, had behaved himself impeccably, and hadn’t drunk too much. In fact, if she didn’t know him of old, she would have been pleasantly impressed by him. But of course, just as underneath Billy’s veneer of sophistication there was still the same timid, nerdy guy from number 23, so she felt sure the real womanising, deceitful, callous Grant was no doubt lying below the surface of this new grown-up incarnation.

  Her phone told her it was seven thirty, so she got up, went across to the window and opened the curtains.

  To her delight, the first rays of early-morning sunshine came flooding in. It was wonderfully warm in her room, no doubt due to the insulating effect of having two sets of windows – an inner pair and an outer pair – with a gap in between. Although familiar with double-glazing, this was the first time she had come across anything so radical as having two complete sets of windows, but there was no doubting their thermal efficiency. In just her pyjamas and bare feet, she was as warm as toast, while outside on the balcony she could see long icicles hanging like stalactites from the wooden handrail. Beyond that, everything was white.

  As predicted, it had snowed in the night. The balcony itself was covered with three or four inches of perfect virginal snow, and a gentle breeze blew individual snowflakes around in the sub-zero air. As she looked out, a snowflake the size of a pea landed on the glass right in front of her and she could clearly see the perfect symmetry of its crystalline design before it gradually melted away into an amorphous droplet. It was a stunning way to start the day.

  Breakfast was already laid out in the dining room, and Zoë was mildly surprised to find that she was not the first person in there, although it was still early. Juliet had beaten her to it and was sitting at a table by the window, a plate of smoked ham and cheese in front of her. Beyond her, standing by a table groaning with food, was a waitress wearing the trademark green and white uniform. She also had a pair of reindeer antlers on her head and Zoë smiled at her across the room as she walked over to Juliet.

  ‘Hi, Jules. Mind if I join you?’

  ‘Please do. Sleep well?’

  ‘Like a log. I didn’t hear a single thing all night.’ She allowed herself a moment of nostalgia. ‘The soundproofing must be very good – I didn’t even hear Grant’s snoring from along the corridor. What about you?’

  ‘Lovely. The rooms are gorgeous, aren’t they? What a place! So… are we going skiing this morning?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  Zoë went across to the food table and helped herself to a bowl of fruit salad containing everything from cherries and blueberries to star fruit and prunes, and a wonderful-smelling warm bread roll with a little pot of honey. Prompted by the waitress, she opted for hot chocolate, and this arrived at her table shortly after she had sat down.

  As the waitress retired, Juliet looked across the table at Zoë with a quizzical expression on her face.

  ‘So, how did your first sight of Grant go?’

  ‘A lot better than I feared. And thank God he’s here on his own. I was dreading being cooped up with his woman. But seeing him last night, I think he was as nervous as I was.’

  ‘He deserved to be!’ Juliet still showed no signs of forgiving Grant for his treatment of Zoë.

  ‘Damn right, but at least I feel pretty sure we’re going to be able to co-exist for a week or so without causing a scene. It’s time I put the past behind me and made a fresh start. I’m going to enjoy every day as it comes, and hopefully by the time we leave I’ll be back to how I used to be. I’m going to do my very best to enjoy this holiday I’ve been dreaming of for so long.’

  ‘Me too. So how about Billy, then?’ There was a tone of wonder in Juliet’s voice.

  ‘I know. Talk about a different man! I genuinely didn’t recognise him at first.’

  ‘He’s looking really good, isn’t he? And Daniela’s gorgeous.’ Juliet sounded seriously impressed. She caught Zoë’s eye. ‘Pity he’s married, eh, Zo?’

  Zoë gave her a stern look. ‘Like I said, I’m not interested in finding myself a man, and neither are you from what you told me. Besides, he is married and you and I aren’t like Grant. I wish Billy and Daniela well.’

  ‘Me too.’

  * * *

  Zoë and Juliet, well wrapped up, and equipped with their new ski passes, met in the hotel lobby at eight thirty and crunched through the fresh snow along the icy drive to the ski shop. It was very slippery underfoot and Zoë was mildly surprised that she managed to get there without falling flat on her face. Ever since childhood she had had a tendency to be a bit accident-prone, as her former housemates knew only too well. The occasion when she had tripped in the lounge and showered Juliet and Lorna with chicken tikka masala would never be forgotten. However, this morning there was no curry in the vicinity, and her feet and her balance were up to the task.

  The air was still absolutely freezing and both of them were glad of their thick clothing. Zoë even pulled up her scarf to cover her cheeks and nose until she got used to the cold. In the ski shop, they found they were expected, and she was impressed – if unsurprised – to find herself kitted out with top-of-the-range skis and boots completely free of charge. Billy’s generosity clearly knew no bounds.

  The guy who fitted them with their skis and boots also gave them pocket-sized maps of the pistes and pointed them in the direction of the main chairlift. This was barely a hundred yards along the road, and when they got there, Zoë was delighted to find there was virtually no queue. No queue down here boded well for a crowd-free day on the slopes.

  They took their seats on the fast four-seater lift, which whisked them up the mountain. The sun had yet to get round to here and it was still very cold, gliding along a few metres above the snow-covered treetops below. Zoë pulled her woolly hat right down to her eyes and both of them hunched into their clothing. She was very glad when the lift reached the top and they could get moving again.

  Up here, they found themselves on a gently sloping plateau with a fine chalet-style restaurant with a wide sun terrace to one side and more lifts away to the right of them at the bottom of the slope. Best of all, by now the sun had reached the lower slopes, so they checked their bindings, pulled down their goggles and set off – slowly at first – down towards the sunshine.

  They both had a wonderful morning. Juliet was pretty good on skis and they skied together for several hours, gradually working their way across the mountainside and down a
few of the more difficult runs. Juliet fell over a few times, but Zoë was pleased – and relieved – to manage the whole morning without incident. Clearly she still remembered how to do it. In fact, as the morning progressed, she felt increasingly secure on her skis and was able to enjoy the scenery as well as the experience. Although they weren’t the only people on the pistes by any means, they were able to ski at their own pace without being held up or, more importantly, dive-bombed by lunatics flying down the slopes out of control. Zoë still preferred to ski without a helmet, although more and more people were taking to them, but here at least it looked as though it shouldn’t be too dangerous. The other surprise was that they heard very few English voices. It looked as though Bad Bergstein was a resort mainly frequented by Austrians. Zoë rather liked the idea of being among the locals.

  She eyed the fresh snow amidst the pine trees away from the pistes longingly, but decided to wait until she had a local – maybe Billy – to show her the way. Although very competent, Juliet said she preferred to stay on the beaten runs, and that suited Zoë fine on her first outing for more than two years. By eleven o’clock they had both definitely warmed up and were in need of refreshment, so they headed back to the restaurant by the top of the first lift – Gasthof zum Wilden Hirsch.

  Zoë seemed to remember that Hirsch meant deer, and her hunch was confirmed as they clomped in through the door in their ski boots and then past the thick thermal blanket screen hanging behind it. Sure enough, the first thing they saw inside was a massive stuffed stag’s head sporting a magnificent set of antlers – definitely not plastic, these – hanging on the wall in front of them. The second thing they saw was a long counter displaying all manner of delicious-looking food. It was spotlessly clean and there was even a man with a mop, wiping up the meltwater by the door where ski boots had brought in snow and ice. The whole room was hung with Christmas decorations and she could hear ‘Jingle Bells’ playing on the PA system. On the far side of the crowded room, French windows led out onto the even more crowded terrace, now bathed in sunlight.

  They went out to see if they could find a table, and it was looking a forlorn hope until they spotted Grant sitting with Fergus. Zoë stopped dead, but then, after a brief internal debate, collected herself and led Juliet across to them.

  ‘Good morning, gentlemen. What are you doing? Skiing or snowboarding?’

  Grant appeared uncharacteristically tongue-tied as Fergus answered for both of them.

  ‘Boarding. We’re both totally hooked on it.’

  Zoë was really surprised. Somehow she had assumed that quiet, reserved, rather formal Fergus would have looked down his nose at a Johnny-come-lately sport like snowboarding. Not at all. He was even wearing a fleece emblazoned with the names of famous boarders. Wonders never ceased.

  ‘Imogen decided not to join you?’

  Fergus shook his head.

  ‘I’ve just been telling Grant. She’s more of a sit-in-the-bar-and-watch-it-happen sort of winter sports girl.’

  ‘She doesn’t know what she’s missing.’

  ‘You two going to join us for a coffee?’ Grant finally found his voice and indicated the empty bench opposite him. ‘I promise I’ll try not to make you spill it this time, Zo.’

  Juliet and Zoë exchanged glances and then sat down as invited. As they did so, Grant jumped to his feet.

  ‘What’s it going to be? Your usual cappuccino and a bottle of mineral water, Zo? What about you, Jules?’

  ‘The same, please, but we’re paying.’

  But Grant disappeared towards the bar before either of them could stop him. After he had left, Fergus surprised Zoë yet again.

  ‘He knows you so well, doesn’t he? Is it a bit weird for you to be here at the same time as your ex?’

  Of course Imogen must have filled him in on her background by now, but this was just about the first personal thing he had said to Zoë. He was looking and sounding far more relaxed and communicative than last night. Whether this was the influence of the fresh mountain air or because he had got away from the controlling presence of his wife was difficult to assess. Zoë answered frankly.

  ‘It feels a bit strange, although, to be honest, Fergus, I’m finding it easier than I expected.’

  ‘As long as he continues to behave himself.’ Juliet’s tone made it clear that she hadn’t forgiven Grant yet. Nor, indeed, had Zoë, but she really was finding being with him far less stressful than she had feared – at least so far. She decided to change the subject.

  ‘And what about you and Imogen, Fergus? All going well?’

  For a moment she distinctly saw him hesitate, but then he nodded.

  ‘It’s all good. This is the first real holiday we’ve had since getting married, and we’ve both been dreaming about it for months.’

  This came as a real surprise to Zoë. She would have imagined that this well-heeled pair would have been off on numerous trips to glamorous destinations, but maybe his job was more demanding on his time than she had thought. Or was there more to it than met the eye?

  ‘We’ve both been dreaming about it too.’ This time, Juliet’s tone was bright. ‘Isn’t Billy an absolute star?’

  ‘He’s amazingly generous.’ Fergus nodded into his beer. ‘I’ve met a lot of stinking-rich people over the years and you’d be amazed how mean many of them can be.’

  ‘I suppose that’s how to get rich and stay rich. Once you’ve got it, don’t give it away. Mind you, Billy must be worth a good few millions, so a few thou here or there is probably small change to him.’

  Fergus shook his head.

  ‘Not millions, Juliet. Billy’s worth billions.’ Seeing the expressions on their faces, he elaborated. ‘Our bank does a lot of business with WF Computer Systems. Without giving away any confidential secrets, you can take it from me he’s got enough money to buy half of Austria – if he hasn’t already done so.’

  ‘Wow.’ Zoë didn’t know what to say. She mentally added this fact to the list for an article on the reclusive Mr Fischer. If it ever happened.

  ‘What are you wowing about?’ Grant reappeared with a tray.

  ‘Billy. Fergus has been telling us just how amazingly wealthy he must be.’

  ‘Billy’s done very well for himself.’

  Grant unloaded the coffees and little bottles of water. He also set a plate on the table containing four slices of what he told them was called Sachertorte – chocolate cake layered with apricot jam and covered in dark chocolate icing.

  ‘It’s pretty damn cold, so we all need a few extra calories.’

  ‘A few? One slice of this probably contains enough calories to keep a family of four going for a week!’

  Zoë complained, but she didn’t refuse her slice and it was predictably excellent.

  As they ate the cake and drank their drinks, the four of them chatted and Zoë was relieved to find that the relative ease with which she had been able to talk to Grant yesterday still continued today. In fact, to an onlooker, it would have sounded like a perfectly normal conversation. Of course, needless to say, it only sounded normal because their former relationship and its abrupt ending were not discussed.

  It was really remarkably warm in the sunshine and Zoë was glad she had protected her face with sun cream before leaving the hotel. She knew all too well how strong the sun could be at altitude and she had no desire to get burnt. She had removed her ski goggles, but she now needed her sunglasses as the light reflecting on the snow was blinding. The views from up here were amazing, and they all took some photos. Zoë even found herself being photographed by, and with, Grant, but she gritted her teeth and put up with it.

  Below them, the ski slopes ran down towards the town, and beyond that, her eyes could follow the valley all the way into the distance, almost as far as Salzburg itself – although that was a bit further around the corner. It was a spectacular view, particularly with the massive mountains rising up behind them, their glistening snow-covered peaks contrasting with the intense cerulean
blue of the cloudless sky. Grant or no Grant, Zoë felt good.

  When she and Juliet left the restaurant to resume their progress across the slopes, the two men came out with them and headed off on their snowboards. Neither of them suggested making a foursome of it, and that suited Zoë just fine.

  * * *

  Fortified by their slices of Sachertorte, Zoë and Juliet chose to stay out over lunchtime, and it was almost four o’clock when they finally called it a day and set off back down the hill to home. As the hotel website had predicted, they were able to ski right down to the hotel itself. Since they had left their normal shoes back at the ski shop, they headed back there and dumped their skis and boots ready for the next morning. As they walked back up the snowy drive to the hotel, enjoying the feel of getting away from the rigidity of their ski boots, Zoë massaged her thighs.

  ‘I’m glad I’ve been spending a bit of time in the gym – I ache enough as it is. I wonder how Martin and Bella are getting on.’

  Martin and Bella, along with Mandy, were waiting for them back in their private lounge. Sitting with them were Imogen and Lorna, with a half-empty bottle of champagne on the table between them. Lorna offered them a glass as they walked in, but Zoë shook her head.

  ‘Thanks, Lorn, but I need to go and have a long, hot bath. I’m clearly not as fit as I thought I was.’ She transferred her attention to Mandy’s family. ‘So, Bella, how did your first day’s skiing go?’

  ‘It was fun, but the snow’s cold when you fall on it.’

  ‘Did you fall over a lot?’

  The little girl nodded, looking a bit uncertain, so Zoë decided to give her a bit of positive reinforcement.

  ‘That’s good. Remember, you’ve got to fall over a thousand times before you become a real skier. At least that’s what they told me when I was learning – and I did a lot of falling over.’

  Bella looked relieved and her father patted her head as he groaned theatrically.