Dreaming of Christmas Read online

  ‘I’m sure Bella fell over fewer times than I did. And I’ve got further to fall.’

  Zoë transferred her attention to Imogen.

  ‘We saw Fergus on his snowboard. He’s really good. You should try it, Imogen. I bet you’d enjoy it.’

  She saw Imogen shudder at the thought.

  ‘Rather him than me. I’ve had a lovely day. I’ve been for a walk into town and done a bit of shopping, I’ve read my book, and I’ve eaten far too much. That’s my idea of a really excellent day, and it certainly beats working.’

  ‘What are you doing these days, Imogen?’

  Zoë knew she had studied social science, but had no idea what sort of career she had chosen.

  ‘I’ve got a boutique in Richmond, right in the centre – top-of-the-range designer fashion. I’ve always wanted to be my own boss, and this has turned out to be the best decision I ever made.’

  ‘Apart from marrying Fergus.’ Mandy was quick to point out her omission. For a fraction of a second, Zoë spotted the same slight hesitation she had noted in Fergus, before Imogen nodded her head.

  ‘Yes, of course, apart from Fergus.’

  Maybe sensing some slight tension in the air, Mandy caught Zoë’s eye.

  ‘Why don’t you and Jules stay for a cup of tea and a piece of cake before going off to have your baths? The food’s delicious here.’

  Zoë shook her head.

  ‘I know it is, but I must be strong. I’ve already had a massive great slab of cake today and I’m sure dinner will be wonderful, so I’ll be a good girl and give tea a miss. See you guys later.’

  Chapter 7

  After her bath – during which she very nearly drifted off to sleep – Zoë decided to dress up a bit for dinner. Not, she told herself firmly, that this was for Grant’s sake. Rather, it was as a gesture to Billy, whose wonderful hotel deserved a bit of effort on her part. It took her a while – she had got out of the habit of wearing very smart clothes or using lipstick – but the end result looked fairly reasonable when she studied herself in the mirror. It was so warm in the hotel, she could easily have worn a summer frock if she had brought one, but instead she chose one of the two smart dresses she had packed, along with her only pair of heels. The dress was far from being what Imogen had described as top-of-the-range-designer fashion, but it had been fairly expensive – at least by Zoë’s standards – and she knew she looked pretty good in it.

  She had just about finished when there was a light tap on the door. She went over and opened it, to be greeted by an effusive Labrador and his master. As she crouched down to pet the dog before he could jump up and ladder her tights, she heard Billy’s voice, sounding quite awestruck.

  ‘Wow, Zoë, you look like a million dollars.’

  Remembering what Fergus had said earlier about Billy’s billionaire status, Zoë reflected that a million dollars would probably fall into the category of small change as far as her host was concerned. However, she avoided any mention of money as she straightened up again and smiled at him.

  ‘Thanks, Billy. I’m glad you think so. I thought I’d dress up a bit for your sake.’

  ‘For my sake?’

  For a moment she caught a glimpse of the old, timid Billy, staring blankly at her with an awkward look on his face. She reminded herself she was talking to a married man, so to avoid any misunderstandings, she hastened to explain.

  ‘I mean for the sake of this wonderful hotel. It’s all so smart and perfect. It feels wrong to be wandering around in just jeans and a jumper somehow.’

  As she spoke, she took a closer look at him and saw that this was exactly what he was wearing – jeans and another lovely soft V-neck jumper – this time a chestnut-brown colour that matched his hair. She gave him a smile.

  ‘Naturally you can wear whatever you like, Billy, but I thought I’d make a bit of an effort. Do you realise, I’ve even put on a bit of lippy? This is the first time I’ve dressed up for a year now.’

  She crouched back down again to scratch the Labrador’s tummy as he rolled about on his back, grunting to himself, tail wagging happily.

  ‘It’s been a tough year for you, hasn’t it?’

  Billy’s tone was so caring, so compassionate, that for a moment Zoë felt a stinging in the corners of her eyes as the emotional baggage she had been carrying with her threatened to spill out. She took a couple of deep, calming breaths before replying.

  ‘It has been tough, Billy. It’s very sweet of you to mention it, but I’m doing fine now.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear you sounding so strong. When I heard about your break-up, I was afraid you might have been badly scarred as a result.’

  Zoë stood back up again and touched his arm, enjoying seeing him blush. Then, regretting making fun of such a nice guy, she released him.

  ‘Thanks, Billy. I’m doing a lot better now – and this holiday of yours is exactly what I needed.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad. And just remember, if there’s anything I can do, anything you need, please tell me. You know I’ve always liked you.’

  Zoë almost gave him a kiss for being so sweet, but she restrained herself for fear that he might explode with embarrassment, and just gave his forearm another little squeeze.

  ‘Thanks, Billy. You’re a sweetie. And I’ve always liked you too.’ And she had, but she really had known so little about him back in the scruffy surroundings of number 23.

  There was a slight pause before he spoke again.

  ‘Anyway, Zoë, the reason I knocked on your door was to ask if you felt like coming skiing with Daniela and me tomorrow. I thought I’d ask you quietly first as I imagine you’d prefer not to ski with Grant after everything that’s happened. Maybe Juliet might like to come too? I believe you were with her today – she’s quite good, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes indeed, to everything. And I don’t even care if Grant comes too. I’m finding dealing with him a lot easier than I thought it was going to be. I’d love to come skiing with you and Daniela, and yes, Juliet’s pretty good. She doesn’t like the deep stuff and prefers to stay on the pistes, though.’

  ‘Daniela, too. Perhaps one day this week, if you fancy it, you and I could have a go at the powder – maybe with Grant and Fergus if you really don’t mind. The conditions at the moment are excellent off piste, with more snow forecast tomorrow or the day after – so if you’re up for it, I know the area pretty well by now and I’d love to show you round. There are a few spots to avoid because of the risk of avalanche, but I know those by now and I’ll make sure we stay safe.’

  ‘It’s a date. Fabulous, Billy. So, tomorrow us two with Daniela and Juliet on piste, then one day you and I hit the powder snow.’ It sounded wonderful. Whether it would be so wonderful if Grant came along was another matter, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

  As they walked into the lounge, Zoë noticed a few raised eyebrows, notably on Imogen and Lorna’s faces. Predictably, Lorna was the first to comment.

  ‘Bloody hell, Zoë, that’s not fair. Who said you could dress up like the Queen of Sheba this evening while the rest of us look like a bunch of bums?’

  Beyond her, standing in the corner alongside Fergus, Zoë spotted Grant, his eyes trained on her and an expression on his face with which she had been unfamiliar over the past few years. Unless she was very much mistaken, the expression was desire. Unbidden, she felt a flush spread to her face and hastily dropped her eyes to the dog, who had noticed that she was wearing a new pair of shoes. She bent down and did her best to dissuade him from chewing them. They were the only smart shoes she had brought – and they hadn’t been cheap.

  ‘Arnie, get off. Go and play with somebody else.’ She glanced across to where Mandy and her family were sitting. ‘Bella, why don’t you come and play with the doggy?’

  To her relief, the little girl came running across, and soon she and the pup were happily playing together, and Zoë’s shoes – at least for now – were safe from molestation.

  As Zoë st
ood up again, she felt herself under observation once more, this time by Imogen. As their eyes met, Imogen passed judgement on Zoë’s appearance.

  ‘You look lovely, Zoë. Tell me, where did you get that super little dress?’

  There was no point in trying to pretend. Zoë felt quite sure that Imogen’s eagle eye had already worked out its provenance and probably its price to the nearest 99p. She gave a rueful smile.

  ‘It’s nothing special, Imogen. Certainly not the sort of stuff you sell – or wear. I bought it in the sales a couple of years ago. At least it still fits.’

  ‘It’s quite charming.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I think it looks great.’ It was Fergus.

  Zoë looked at him in surprise. Apart from their conversation up on the slopes this morning, Fergus had hardly spoken a word to her, and certainly not in the presence of his wife. She got the distinct impression that the look Imogen shot him was one of disapproval. Zoë herself gave him a big smile.

  ‘Well, thanks, Fergus. And you’re looking as smart as usual.’ Although, thankfully, he had abandoned his suit tonight and was wearing a crisp white shirt with the collar open. Just then, she heard another voice.

  ‘And I think you look terrific too.’

  Zoë’s eyes flicked across to acknowledge Grant’s comment, but she made no response. Instead, she walked over to the bar and helped herself to a bottle of beer. As she took a sip, she was joined by Juliet, who had also dressed up and was looking very elegant. A few seconds later, Daniela appeared and eclipsed them both – at least in Zoë’s eyes. She was wearing a gorgeous pale pink dress that screamed class and expense. Even a fashion ingénue like Zoë could see that. What was nice, however, was how natural she looked, in spite of being dressed like a Hollywood starlet. It was also lovely to see her go up to her husband and give him a little kiss on the cheek.

  A twinge of envy at their happiness shot through Zoë’s body and she was unable to prevent her eyes from flicking, momentarily, back towards Grant. Taking a firm grip of her emotions, she tore her attention away from him and swallowed a big mouthful of beer. Alas, in so doing, she made the mistake of allowing the bottle to escape her lips, and a splash of foam shot up her nose and set her off in a coughing fit.

  ‘You all right, Zo?’ Juliet handed her a handful of serviettes. ‘Here, wipe yourself off. You’ll ruin that lovely dress.’

  It was a minute or so before Zoë was able to draw breath properly, and she could still feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Beside her she could sense Juliet shaking with barely contained laughter as she heard Lorna’s voice.

  ‘Clumsy Lumsey’s alive and well. Some things never change, folks.’

  As Zoë wiped her eyes and then her face with more of the abundant supply of serviettes, she heard Billy explain to his wife, ‘Zoë had a bit of a reputation at university for being clumsy. Her name’s Lumsley, but it soon became Clumsy Lumsey. I think it’s rather endearing.’

  Zoë managed to regain the power of speech.

  ‘That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one with a nose full of beer.’

  Billy then changed the subject and gave Zoë time to recover.

  ‘Anyway, tonight, rather than having dinner here in the hotel, I’ve booked a table in a restaurant in the old town. How does that sound?’

  That sounded wonderful – although Zoë and Juliet wisely hurried back to their rooms before going out to change into warmer clothes and more suitable shoes. They set off for the short walk to the restaurant at just after seven. Juliet took a firm hold of Zoë’s arm as they made their way through the snowy streets, and Zoë was grateful. It would be the height of irony if she were to fall and break her leg in the town, rather than out on the mountainside. It was very quiet, and she realised what it was she had been missing. Compared to London, there was virtually no traffic – apart from an occasional car or the local bus – and the silence was almost disconcerting.

  The restaurant was very much the opposite. As they came in from the relative peace and quiet and threaded their way through the already crowded room to the table reserved for them, the volume of noise was a real assault on the ears. Apart from the chatter of sixty or seventy guests, there was an accordion player – dressed in leather shorts and jaunty hat with a feather in it – playing some sort of traditional drinking song, and a number of people were singing along to the music. The place was hung with garlands and baubles but still had a very Austrian feel, and it looked as though almost all the guests were Austrian. Zoë shot a glance across at Juliet and saw her smile back.

  ‘I suppose we should be grateful it isn’t a full oompah band.’

  ‘Don’t speak too soon. There might be one waiting in the wings.’

  No doubt as a result of a good bit of forethought and planning on Billy’s part, their table was tucked in the far corner, well away from the music. Zoë made sure she sat at the opposite end of the table from Grant, sandwiched between Juliet and an excited Bella, who was perched on a couple of cushions. As she sat down, Zoë leant towards the little girl.

  ‘Have you ever been to a place like this before?’

  Bella shook her head. ‘No, but it’s fun, isn’t it?’

  Zoë smiled. The little girl’s excitement was infectious, and she felt a wave of happiness – just about the first real happiness for a year – sweep over her. From where she was sitting, she couldn’t see Grant, and he might just as well not have existed. She was here in this magnificent mountain resort with a bunch of old friends, and it felt good to be alive. On impulse, she caught hold of Bella by the shoulders and gave her a hug and a kiss. Then she turned to Juliet and did the same. As she did so, she saw Juliet’s eyes twinkle.

  ‘What was that for, Zo?’

  ‘Just for being a good friend. I’m so glad I’m here, we’re here – in fact, I’m glad we’re all here.’

  ‘All…?’

  ‘Well, almost all.’

  She needed very little persuading to join most of the others in ordering a large beer. She was not, however, expecting what then arrived at the table. A burly waitress in traditional costume arrived with half a dozen huge glass mugs of beer in her powerful hands and distributed them around the table. Zoë shot a look across the table at Daniela.

  ‘Are these pints?’

  Daniela grinned and shook her head.

  ‘No, litres.’ She glanced sideways towards Billy. ‘How much is a litre in your measurements?’

  ‘The best part of two pints.’

  Once she had got over her shock, Zoë picked up the heavy glass, leant forward and dipped her mouth into the frothy beer. It tasted great, even if it gave her a white moustache. Seconds later she was surprised, and impressed, to hear Grant’s voice from the end of the table.

  ‘I’d like to propose a toast to Billy for his tremendous generosity. I’m sure we’re all very, very grateful for your invitation. Bad Bergstein’s a super place, the hotel’s amazing, this restaurant’s great, and you’ve been brilliant. Here’s to you, Billy.’

  ‘To Billy!’

  Everybody echoed Grant’s words as they clinked the heavy mugs against each other. As she did so, Zoë couldn’t help feeling astonished that her ex-boyfriend had behaved so politely – almost like a real grown-up. Maybe he had matured over the past year. It was certainly about time.

  She and Juliet allowed themselves to be persuaded to try that most quintessential of Austrian dishes – a Wiener Schnitzel. When they arrived, they were so huge, Zoë genuinely feared she wouldn’t be able to finish it, but she surprised herself. The meat inside the fried breadcrumbs was thin and the whole thing was remarkably light, the accompaniment just a few potatoes and a mixed salad. She had little difficulty in clearing her plate.

  ‘There’s nothing like a day’s skiing to give you an appetite, eh, Zo?’ Juliet too had polished off her Schnitzel.

  After quenching her thirst with the excellent beer, Zoë nodded in agreement. Setting down the heavy glass, she
wiped away her beer moustache and grinned at her friend.

  ‘And tomorrow we get to do it all again.’

  The inevitable happened on the way home. Whether it was the litre of beer she had drunk or just Zoë’s natural clumsiness, as they made their way back up the road towards home, she slipped on an icy patch and fell sideways into one of the huge piles of snow left by the passage of the snowplough. As she fell, she pulled Juliet down with her and the two of them ended up face-first in the snow. She heard a little cheer go up and then strong hands caught her under the arms and pulled her clear. As she straightened up, wiping freezing snow from her face, she found that her saviour had been none other than Grant, and he was still gripping her shoulders to steady her. She took an unsteady step backwards out of his reach and caught hold of Juliet again – freshly rescued from the snow by Fergus and Martin – feeling rather pleased that there weren’t any street lights round her to reveal her glowing cheeks.

  ‘Thank you, Grant.’ She remembered her manners.

  ‘You all right, Zo?’ He sounded genuinely concerned for her well-being.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. Just embarrassed.’ Whether the embarrassment was as a result of her fall or being picked up by him wasn’t clear to her at this stage. She could still feel the touch of his hands on her body and she wasn’t totally sure how to interpret the sensation.

  ‘It’s a wonder you can stay upright on skis, Zo.’ Lorna was grinning at her in the starlight.

  ‘I was thinking the same thing.’ Juliet was grinning as well, in spite of her excursion into the white stuff. ‘Your balance can’t be that bad after all, Zo.’

  ‘Keep telling yourself that, Jules. We’ve still got a hundred yards to go. You might find yourself on your face in the snow again.’

  ‘Here, Zoë, let me give you a hand.’ Lorna came over and took hold of her arm. ‘I’ve got this side of you and, Jules, if you hang onto the other side of Zoë, the three of us should be solid as a rock.’

  Zoë gripped the two girls and they set off again. Lorna was right. Between them, they managed to return to the hotel without further incident. When they got back upstairs, Zoë thanked Lorna and apologised profusely to Juliet. She almost repeated her thanks to Grant for helping her out of the snow, but decided against it.