Dreaming of Christmas

by Dreaming of Christmas (retail) (epub)

  Chapter 20

  When she got back to the hotel, Zoë went straight to Juliet’s room and knocked on the door, desperate to make things right between the two of them once again. The first thing she did was to give Juliet a warm hug and beg her pardon.

  ‘I’m so, so sorry for thinking the worst of you, Jules. I think it was because I’d just met up with that sleazeball photographer. For a moment my brain was running along the same disgusting lines as his. Please, please forgive me. You’re my very best friend and I feel simply awful.’

  ‘Nothing to forgive, Zo. I should have told you months ago that I’d finally come out, but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. You were already so miserable, I didn’t want to make things worse for you.’

  ‘You’re so sweet. You could have told me. I’d just have said what I’m saying now. I’m really, really happy for you. You look and sound so much more cheerful than you’ve done over the past few years, and that’s great.’

  ‘Can I ask, Zo? Did Billy tell you about his plan?’ Zoë nodded and Juliet looked relieved. ‘Danni told me last night, but she said it was a big secret. Now he’s told you, so that’s fine.’ She caught Zoë’s eye. ‘Him not being married has got to be just about the best possible news you could have, isn’t it?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘You suppose so? You do realise he’s hopelessly in love with you. Danni says you’re all he ever talks about.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what he told me, too.’

  ‘You don’t sound terribly excited. Surely you feel the same way about him, don’t you? I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at him.’

  ‘The way I’ve been looking at him? Have I really been making eyes at him?’ She remembered what Grant had said the previous night. ‘I suppose I must have been – even Grant commented.’

  ‘See? So, what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘What can I do? We’re going home in two days’ time.’

  ‘You can do a lot in two days, Zo.’

  * * *

  Christmas lunch was a real traditional feast – but not an Austrian one. The chef produced a full English Christmas lunch for them, complete with turkey, stuffing, chipolata sausages, sprouts, gravy and all the trimmings. There were even English crackers containing silly hats and even sillier jokes. Zoë had to admit that the food was a damn sight better than the lunch she had prepared the previous year, although, to be honest, she had barely touched her food back then as her whole world disintegrated around her. Now she was able to eat, but the confusion reigning in her head was once again overwhelming – although far less demoralising.

  Predictably, the meal was accompanied by the finest wines and champagne. Billy sat at the head of the table, with Daniela at his right hand. Zoë took a seat in the middle, with Juliet on one side of her and Bella on the other. Throughout the meal the little girl chattered incessantly about all the presents she had received – and the new bike Santa had delivered to her home address, to await her return. Zoë listened with half an ear as she ate her lunch and the others read out the corny jokes from the crackers, all the while turning over in her head everything Billy and Juliet had said to her. Juliet was right, of course. She had been thinking a lot about Billy, but the knowledge that he was married had very firmly dampened down any romantic notions. Now that she suddenly found him no longer forbidden fruit, she had a lot of rethinking to do. From time to time she snatched glances at him and did her best to process the results.

  There was no getting away from the fact that he had morphed into a good-looking, sophisticated man, and of course he was still as kind as ever. Even more appealing was the fact that remnants of his shy former self still lay, barely concealed, beneath a thin covering of hard-won self-confidence. There had definitely been moments – like when they had been skiing together, or when he had held her close as they danced last night – when she had imagined him in a romantic light, but there was a problem. Now that he had declared his love, and she knew him to be unattached, an elephant had just come lumbering, uninvited, into the room.

  He was a billionaire.

  How could she, Zoë Lumsley, possibly fit in with his lifestyle? He divided his time between here and what was no doubt an amazingly expensive house in California. He rubbed shoulders with film stars and cabinet ministers and dealt in millions of dollars. She thought back to her own rented flat, her scruffy old car and her underwear that badly needed replacing. There was an abyss between the two of them, in many ways just as wide as there had been at number 23. Back there, he had been the timid little nerd and she the popular girl sharing a bed with the captain of rugby. Now the roles were reversed, but the abyss between them remained.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a monster Christmas pudding, flambéed and burning with a blue flame. According to Billy, this had been sent over specially for the occasion, along with Devonshire clotted cream and real custard. There were oohs and ahs of appreciation on all sides, but to Zoë, this extravagance further emphasised the gap between her lifestyle and Billy’s.

  After lunch, they all went through to the lounge – led by the excited little girl and the Labrador – to open the rest of the presents around the tree. In fact, just about the first present to be opened was for Arnie from Daniela. It was a squeaky toy convincingly shaped to look like a shoe. As the dog grabbed it with delight, Daniela raised her hands helplessly.

  ‘I know it’s an admission of defeat, but he’s already ruined two pairs of perfectly good shoes.’

  As it turned out, the dog received a number of other chewable toys, and for the rest of the afternoon, all that could be heard from him was a regular chorus of squeaks.

  Zoë’s teddy bear for Bella earned her a hug and a kiss, and the snow globes of Bad Bergstein, decorative candles, mugs and cuddly toys were greeted with appreciation and amusement by the others. She had bought something for everybody, including Georg and Marcel, and even found something for Erika – whose face-slapping episode last night had endeared her to Zoë once more. Billy was delighted with the framed photo and they all took turns to study it, mostly remarking upon how young and skinny they all looked in it. After serious reflection, she had even bought something for Grant – a packet of chocolate Mozartkugeln. As she whispered to Juliet, the ‘balls to you’ message seemed appropriate.

  She received a number of presents, ranging from chocolates to perfume, and even socks. Billy’s presents were the same for everybody – fine-looking pens individually engraved with each person’s name and, simply, Bad Bergstein.

  When all the presents had been opened, they settled down to a lazy afternoon together. Zoë slipped back to her room and phoned her mum and dad. She must have sounded happy, because both her mother and her father commented – with discernible surprise in their voices. Zoë reflected that this past year must have been tough on them as well. She told them all about the hotel, the skiing, the gala ball and the traditional Christmas lunch, as well as her final expulsion of Grant from her life, but she didn’t mention Billy specifically, because she really didn’t know what to say. ‘And by the way, Mum, a billionaire says he’s in love with me’ would have necessitated most of the afternoon to explain. She resolved to talk it through with them once she got back home. Maybe by then she would have managed to sort things out in her own mind.

  Back in the lounge, Bella had opened a new set of coloured pens, and they took turns at drawing and writing on Martin’s plaster cast. Then, after a while, at the little girl’s insistence, they were all cajoled into playing party games, culminating with hide-and-seek. Their individual bedrooms were declared out of bounds, so there were limited places on the top floor for them to hide. When Bella screwed up her eyes and started to count up to twenty, Zoë saw people duck for cover behind sofas and armchairs and under tables in the lounge, so she went out into the corridor. Seeing Grant disappear into the dining room, she decided to try elsewhere and went on along the corridor. Remembering the cupboard she had spotted when in her hid
ing place the previous night, she slipped behind the reception desk and found the narrow door set in the wall. It was still unlocked, and inside she could see stationery, towels and toiletries. She was just squeezing through the low doorway when she heard a whisper from the shadows inside and jumped.

  ‘Mind out for the mop and bucket on the right. The mop’s still wet. Come and join me in the middle of the toilet paper. Over to your left.’

  ‘Is that you, Billy?’

  ‘It’s me all right. I used a bit of local knowledge. How come you thought of hiding here?’

  Zoë squeezed in alongside him and pulled the door closed behind her.

  ‘It’s a long story. Let’s just say I noticed it last night. I’ll tell you all about it sometime.’

  There wasn’t lot of room in the cupboard and she found herself pressed against him so close she could feel his heart beating – and it was beating fast. As she crouched there in the pitch dark, feeling her own heart rate begin to rise, her mind turned over and over, and gradually some sort of revelation began to dawn.

  The fact was that everybody in their group had been pretending to be something they weren’t.

  Lorna had arrived pretending to be her same happy, hedonistic self of old, while all the time, deep inside, she was hankering for a different life, where she could make a fresh start and settle down. Seeing her turn her back on Ron the photographer and, more importantly, initiate what might hopefully develop into a genuine relationship with Big Max had cheered Zoë no end. Things were looking good for Lorna.

  Imogen had been so desperate to give the impression of opulence, she had resorted to trying to trick the others with her borrowed clothes. Whether it was the advice she had received from Zoë, or the shock of fearing something had happened to her husband, she now appeared to have accepted him for what he was – a good man who would make her happy, irrespective of whether he would ever become as rich as Croesus. As the days had gone by, she and Fergus had emerged as a normal, loving couple.

  Mandy, beneath the outward show of happy families, had been nursing a feeling of guilt that threatened to overwhelm her. After finally finding the strength and the courage to tell her husband what had happened, their relationship appeared, once more, to be the stable, loving one it had always been.

  Dear Juliet had been fighting against her natural instincts all her life, and it was only so very recently that she had finally found happiness with the admission to herself that she now knew her true orientation. Giving up the pretence had brought new meaning into her life – and maybe a special someone in the shape of Daniela. Zoë was especially pleased for her that things were working themselves out.

  And then there was Grant. In his case, he had been trying to convince her that he had transformed into a reformed character, no longer predatory and shallow. Instead, he had once more revealed himself in his true colours – with the morals of a tomcat – and Zoë felt sure he was a lost cause. But at least he was no longer her lost cause.

  Finally, of course, this lovely, kind man who was sandwiched between her and a pile of toilet rolls had revealed that he too had been putting on an act. This wonderful Christmas holiday had been an elaborate charade to bring him close to the girl he claimed to have loved for over ten years. It was somehow so very sweet that this apparently sophisticated, successful man with a cosmopolitan lifestyle had been so insecure he had had to resort to such tactics. Her heart went out to him.

  But the fact of the matter, she now realised, was that she too had been pretending – though in her case to herself as much as to other people. It gradually became clearer and clearer in her mind. She had managed to convince herself that after the Grant debacle she wasn’t interested in anything but her career. It had taken a sweet little girl and a kind and generous friend this week to make her realise that she really did want to settle down and find happiness with somebody. What now emerged like a blinding light in spite of the darkened confines of this broom cupboard was that there was no doubt in her mind that the man crushed up against her in the middle of a heap of toilet paper was that somebody. The fact that he was amazingly rich was something with which she would have to learn to come to terms, but it didn’t alter the way she felt about him.

  Suddenly it all became clear in her head and she felt an overpowering urge to kiss him. She raised a hand and reached forward very gently with her fingers, making contact almost immediately with his cheek. She let her hand slide round to the back of his head and then slowly pulled him towards her.

  ‘Billy, there’s something I’ve got to do. I hope you don’t mind.’

  She kissed him.

  It wasn’t a passionate kiss – just a gentle touch of lips upon lips – but the effect it had upon her was overwhelming. As her lips rested against his, she felt that same sense of belonging and happiness she had felt in his arms on the dance floor the previous night. It was a warm, comforting sensation that swept away the hurt and the heartache of the previous twelve months, and she felt tears spring once more to the corners of her eyes. Her precarious composure totally deserted her and a few seconds later, in spite of her best efforts, she was crying her eyes out.

  She felt his arms reach out and cradle her, pulling her tightly towards him and rocking her like a little baby. As she sobbed into his cheek, she heard his voice – hardly more than a breath.

  ‘It’s all right now, Zoë. It’s all right.’

  They stayed like that for probably a couple of minutes, until she gradually began to regain control of her emotions. Finally she raised her head and reached out again, catching hold of his cheeks and leaning forward so that her eyes were only a couple of inches from his. By now she had grown accustomed to the dark, and a narrow ray of light coming through the crack of the door reflected in his eyes. Without blinking, she kissed him again, just to be sure. The sensation was the same as before and she felt a smile forming on her face.

  She shifted slightly on the toilet rolls and was about to speak when a sudden agonising stab of cramp gripped her thigh. She squeaked in pain and kicked her leg out straight ahead, making contact with something. Seconds later, she felt a cold, damp sensation on her foot. However, the good news was that her sudden movement had nipped the cramp in the bud and she was able to relax again. Doing her best to ignore the wet mop on her foot, she looked back up at Billy.

  ‘That was the bucket.’

  ‘I heard.’ She could hear the barely suppressed mirth in his voice. ‘Some things never change, do they, Zo?’

  ‘You’ve changed, Billy.’

  ‘Not in the way I feel about you, Zoë.’ His voice was suddenly serious again.

  Wet foot or no wet foot, she felt herself smiling at him. He pulled her closer, and this time he kissed her and she abandoned herself in his arms. It was a good long while before she felt like talking again. Finally she drew back and rested her cheek against his, whispering into his ear.

  ‘Billy, what you said to me up there on the terrace this morning, I never said thank you. That was the sweetest thing anybody’s ever said to me and I’ll never forget a single word of it.’

  ‘So do you think there’s hope for me?’ His voice was still hesitant and her heart went out to him.

  ‘Oh yes.’

  He kissed her again, and she knew it felt right.

  * * *

  Billy and Zoë won the hide-and-seek competition hands down. Bella took so long to find their hiding place that Zoë was beginning to feel more twinges of cramp by the time the door was pulled open and excited squeaks from the little girl and similar noises from the Labrador’s rubber shoe alerted them to the fact that it was time to stop what they were doing. She climbed out, groaning as she straightened up, doing her best to ignore the ominous squelching sounds from her wet foot, and rewarded Bella with a smile. Behind her, Billy emerged with a broad grin on his face that lasted for the rest of the afternoon.

  At four o’clock, they had a visitor. To everyone’s delight – particularly Lorna’s – it was the big Americ
an. Shouts of ‘Hi, Max!’ went up across the room, and Lorna made sure she timed her greeting to coincide with his head brushing against the mistletoe.

  He came armed with chocolates, cakes and a gorgeous stuffed toy in the shape of a black Labrador for Bella. It was hard to decide who liked it better, Bella or the dog, but Zoë got the feeling the toy’s days would be numbered if the little girl let Arnie get hold of it.

  Marcel arrived shortly afterwards with a Christmas cake, Stollen, and tea for those who wanted it, along with ice cold champagne for those who preferred something stronger. Zoë, now having changed her shoes, had been lolling on the sofa with a silly expression on her face ever since emerging from the broom cupboard. She needed no persuading to accept a glass of champagne from Billy, who sat down beside her. As they sipped their wine, they chatted about random things like snow, skiing and Christmas. If she had been asked later to recall what they had talked about, she would have found it near impossible. All the time, the only thing in her mind was the realisation that something had fundamentally changed in her life. She now knew that she was no longer alone.

  A bit later on, Billy swallowed the last of his champagne and stood up.

  ‘And now Arnie’s got a rendezvous with his favourite tree. He and I had better pop out for a walk.’

  At the sound of the magic W word, Arnie appeared at his master’s feet, tail wagging.

  Zoë immediately leapt to her feet to accompany him. True to form, she forgot she still had half a glass of champagne in her hand, and the next thing she knew, she had tipped it all over the Labrador once more. Arnie jumped back in surprise and then subjected her to the sort of disapproving look Damien reserved for her more outrageous articles. She blushed and dropped to her knees, stroking his ears with one hand while scrabbling for a tissue with the other. As she did so, a huge cheer went up around the room, accompanied by catcalls.