Copyright 2017 Yvonne Beattie
All rights reserved.
The right of Yvonne Beattie to be identified as the Author
of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This book is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover Designed by Emma Davidson
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I got my toes in the water, Ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, A cold beer in my hand
Life is good today, Life is good today.
- Zac Brown Band
Chapter 1
“We’re all going on a winter holiday, no more working for a week or two, snow and alcohol on our winter holiday, no more rumpy-pumpy for me or yo-oo-ou… dum dee dummmm, for a year or twooooo…”
I really wish I was good at making up lyrics ad-hoc. You know, like a rapper? I can’t rap either though, which is unfortunate.
“Oh, for fruit sake, would someone shut her up, seriously?” I hear Simon purposely bang his head on the car window behind me.
“I’m quite enjoying her upbeat tunes,” Joel turns to look at me through his big brown eyes from the driver’s seat, and smirks as I shrug at him and start singing, “Winter tiiiiiime, and the weather is drrrreadfulllll... skies are greeeey...”
“Rachel, maybe you could, like, sing them quietly, in your head for a little while?” Bex pulls her dark blonde hair into a ponytail and looks miserably out of her window in the back seat across from Simon with a sigh. “I feel like we’ve been in the car all day, but it’s only been, what, forty minutes?”
“What’s wrong with my singing?” I ask, amused.
“Umm, you could make the words a bit more upbeat? Or, alternatively, sing the actual words of the songs… I mean, just a suggestion…” Joel shrugs, still smirking, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Or, just shut the… fffruit up like any other normal fruiting person,” Simon barks, monotone.
I feel the car start to vibrate and realise its Simon’s leg shaking.
“Come on guys, just trying to keep the mood up,” I squeal, forcing happiness and clapping my hands together twice simultaneously.
“Rach, you don’t have to pretend with us. We’re your friends,” Bex puts her hand on my shoulder.
“What? I’m not pretending. Why would I do that?” I brush her off.
“Because you’re on the rebound,” Simon answers, still monotone. “And I don’t blame the fff…ruit-er for dumping you, but I wish he’d done it after this fff… this trip. OUCH! What was that for?”
“Shut up you imbecile,” Bex whispers loudly. “You promised you’d be on your very best behaviour!”
“I am on my best behaviour, you didn’t have to hit me. I haven’t sworn once,” he whispers loudly back at her.
“She’s still sensitive, we need to be understanding,” Bex answers him. “Not all mean and insensitive. Oh, and I know you haven’t sworn, yet. I’m keeping a tally.”
“Umm, guys, I hate to point this out, but I am actually right here, and I can hear everything you’re saying,” I turn to see Bex looking exasperated, and Simon rather red in the face rubbing his toned upper arm for full effect.
“See? She’s fine,” Simon motions at me.
“It’s a pretence,” Bex folds her arms. “I mean, he only dumped her a few days ago.”
“Gee, thanks guys,” I roll my eyes and turn back to look out the windscreen. It’s started drizzling rain as our elevation into the hills begins toward the Aviemore ski resort.
“Come on you guys, lighten up,” Joel says. “This is supposed to be fun!”
“Yeah, this is going to be a blast,” I roll my eyes and huffily fold my arms too.
“Why don’t we just turn back and head home? It’s not to late,” Simon suggests sounding far too eager.
“Because none of us have family in Aberdeen, and we are not all spending Christmas alone being miserable,” Joel states, factually. “Now, you lot need to buck up. We are going to have fun. Even if it means we are out on that ski slopes every second of the holidays.”
“There’s no fruit-ing snow,” murmurs Simon.
Bex snorts and grumbles something indecipherable.
“Yeah, well, maybe Rachel can conjure up a voodoo snow dance instead of her lovely, yet, somewhat depressing songs,” Joel glances at me and I try not to smile. “They do have dry slopes you know, needs must and all that.”
“Hmm…” I snuggle down into my car seat a bit more.
We booked this trip a few months ago to go skiing over Christmas, but there has been a bit of a drought on the snowfall this year. The Cairngorms usually always have snow by now, long before now actually, but some stupid and unexpected warm front has kept the temperatures unseasonably warm. Just our luck, we should’ve gone to Tenerife instead. I think about the warm sun sitting on my skin, cocktails by the pool, swimming, reading, chilling. No one else wanted a warm holiday.
We all settle back into our seats in mutual silence while Joel finds a radio station with a decent signal to help eliminate the atmosphere. No one says a word when ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ blasts out, but I see Joel’s dimple in his cheek bursting to stay at bay as he tries not to look too entertained.
I was so looking forward to this trip. I really was. Work has been crazy busy the last few months and a break is exactly what I need. What I did not need was to have an epiphany and come to the realisation that I am not in love with my so-called boyfriend of the last year, three days before we were due to come on holiday. Oh, and exactly ten days before Christmas. We’d been plodding along relatively happily, or so a big part of me wanted to think, but sometimes you just ‘know’, right? I mean, I love the guy, I’m just not ‘in love’ with the guy. It’s the little things that annoyed me in the beginning, and really, they just got worse. For instance, who squeezes the toothpaste tube in the middle and leaves the lid off every single time? Annoying. A-nnoy-ing. Petty, I know, but still, so freaking annoying. And I’m not even what I would consider OCD. It’s common courtesy, put the lid back on and place it back on the shelf where you found it. Who pauses a movie a third in, gets up and makes themselves a drink, then sits back down without even bothering to offer to get you one? (and it’s my place, not his). So unbelievably rude. I mean, yeah, rude. Who takes you out on a date, yet stands at the bar talking to other pretty girls while you stand there crunching on your mojito ice? Yeah, ping off back to jerk-ville. Jerk. Anyway, adding all that and more together plus his undeniable aversion of affection – of any kind, it just had to end.
Just like that.
He had to go.
I’d just had it with him.
Literally.
I’ve washed my hands.
Latterly, he was living with me, in my house. I hadn’t even asked him to move in, his things just little by little appeared in the bathroom, my wardrobe, the kitchen, my shoe rack (yeah, I know). He never once offered to pay for anything, he barely even coughed up for a pint of milk, let alone a gas bill. So, I’d started thinking I’d be better off without him. I guess I should find it humiliating that he told everyone he ditched me, but quite frankly, it actually takes the onus off me for a few days until I get the hang of singledom again. I thought I’d be extremely happy by now, what, only a few days later, but it’s kind of lonely going home to an empty house and more so having no cosy hairy legs to warm my feet against at bedtime. I’m fickle, I know, but there you have it. I’ve invested in a furry hot water bottle, which I made sure I packed for this trip. Maybe I ju
st need to get myself a cat to talk to. I’ll become the clichéd crazy hoarding cat lady everyone is always so quick to pick on. Except, I really do like my place neat and tidy, I wouldn’t be any good at hoarding, and I’m quite allergic to cats. Piriton only lasts for so long. Dogs are just too much work, budgies are annoying, I think they shit everywhere, hamsters keep you up all night on their mini treadmills…
“Here we are my merry man and women,” Joel exclaims, snapping me out of my reverie, as we round the hill and drive down into the scenic town of Aviemore.
I must have been dosing between daydreaming as the rest of the ride up suddenly passed in a flash.
“Hallelujah, man,” Simon perks up.
“And not a moment too soon,” Bex stretches her arms out and smiles sleepily at me as I turn and catch her eye.
“Which way is it to the chalet, Rach?” Joel prompts me, nodding at the folder of information I brought for us, as we go straight across a roundabout.
“Umm, hold on a sec, slow down,” I quickly grab the directions I had printed from Google Maps earlier and tell him where to go. Aviemore isn’t very big so we are at the chalet in just a few minutes.
“Wow!” Bex exclaims, as Joel pulls up to a gorgeous wooden chalet with sloped roofs, huge floor to ceiling windows emitting a warm glow from within and twinkling Christmas lights hung around the roof and decking.
“Well, this ain’t gonna be so shabby,” Joel smiles while taking it all in.
“I love it already,” I blurt out excitedly as I try to open my car door while balancing all the chalet and map details I’d printed out.
It looks extremely picturesque. The only thing missing is snow. It’s like the proverbial Christmas card, missing the ploughed snow piled high around the perimeter of the chalet, and the lopsided snowman (with yellow feet) out front. It’s much colder here than it was in Aberdeen, and pitch black out. The Christmas lights still make it look exceptionally pretty and as I look to the horizon I can see more lights glowing from the main street.
“This is f… fruit-ing pimp!” Simon says as he eyes Bex, then jumps out of the car excitedly and grabs her to go with him for a selfie.
I note that they’ve both cheered up immensely.
Joel pops the car boot and starts unloading our luggage and groceries we had picked up just before we left, while I quickly pull out the paperwork for the chalet and locate the key holder lock so we can get in.
“Here we go, guys. There are two keys, so Bex, here you go and I’ll keep the other one,” I figure us girls are more reliable than the guys. Thankfully, the guys don’t bat an eyelid.
“OK, fine by me,” Simon says excitedly, and grabs Bex tilting her over for a full on, completely inappropriate kiss, in front of Joel and I.
Joel looks at them, then at me, and rolls his eyes.
“Knock it off you two love birds, plenty of time for that behind closed doors,” a no-nonsense Joel grabs a couple of bags and hauls them up the stairs to the front door.
“Ooh, you jealous, Joely?” Simon digs at him.
“Erm, no, dickwad. Just have a little thought for others,” I feel Joel nod in my direction and I quickly duck inside not wanting to have any part of that conversation.
“Wow, this place most definitely is pimp,” I grin happily to myself while looking around and feeling appreciative that the heating was left on for us.
It’s a nice open plan sociable set-up, it’s going to be a cosy couple of weeks up here. The whole place seems to have a safari theme to it. It’s all muted colours, with wooden African animal statues, faux giraffe, leopard and tiger skin cushions, a zebra rug. It’s beautiful and somehow, not in the slightest bit tacky. A beautiful Christmas tree has been erected in the corner and is decorated with white lights and red bows. The owner has really made it a proper holiday home-away-from-home.
I turn as the others clamber in after me.
“Check out the box,” Simon grabs the TV remote control and flicks it immediately onto the sports channel.
There is a super sized TV hung on the wall above a very grand looking fireplace. Old Saint Nic will have no trouble squeezing his butt out of that thing.
“I am not spending the next two weeks watching sport, boyo,” Bex throws herself down into the oversized bucket seat, but then gets straight back up heading to the open plan kitchen.
“Aww, come on,” Simon whines. “You chicks are no fun.”
“Stop your whining, Si, or you’ll be sleeping in the bath tonight,” Bex pops a bottle of Prosecco and starts raking through the kitchen cupboards for glasses.
“You wish, Beccy,” he laughs easily. “I know you’re gagging for it, I ain’t going in no bath tub unless it’s with you in your birthday suit,” he smiles suggestively.
“Simon Cox! It’s not my birthday for months!” Bex pretends she’s horrified and throws the bottle cork at him.
He laughs as it bounces off his shoulder while he hauls himself off the sofa. He grabs a couple of bottles of beer, pops the screw tops on them both and hands one to Joel as he reappears from another room looking slightly worried.
“Umm, guys, I thought this place was a three bedroom chalet?” Joel directs his question to Bex as she booked it.
I look at her immediately and question her, “It is… isn’t it?”
She bites her bottom lip but says nothing while looking at each of us guiltily.
“OK, so I maybe told a teeny weeny, ickle, little, very small, smidgeon of a white lie…” she walks over to where Simon has plunked himself down on the sofa again and stands behind him.
“Rebecca…?” I ask warily while I look at the ends of my long brown hair.
“Well… it only has two bedrooms but I figured someone could sleep on the sofa if it’s a huge problem. I mean, it shouldn’t be a problem should it? Joel is my brother and he is like a brother to you, so surely you guys can share a room and not make a big issue of it, right? I mean its single beds, you’re both single, what’s the problem? I just can’t see a problem here…” she rambles so quickly it takes me all my time to digest what she has just said. And also, just what her blatant intentions are.
“That’s not a white lie, Bex,” I look at her with raised eyebrows.
“It’s not single beds either, Bex,” Joel takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes to the ceiling.
“Look guys, this is totally my fault,” I look at Joel. “I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa, Joel. Honestly. It’s so great you were able to come with us seeing as… well, you know… I’m without partner now…”
“Rach, I’m not leaving you on the sofa, I’ll take the couch, I don’t mind,” Joel quickly overrules my offer, always the gentleman. “Honestly, it’s cool. I just wish my brat of a sister had been honest from the beginning.”
“But…” I try.
“No Rach, just leave it. Bex, you should’ve said something sooner,” Joel glares at his sister for a moment but then lets it go.
“I… I’m sorry guys. I just didn’t want either or both of you not to come. I genuinely thought it would be one room with a double bed and the other with singles. These places usually are, you know, for the parents and then the two point four kiddos… I’m sorry…” Bex shrugs trying to look guilty, but I can tell she is not at all feeling remotely bad.
“OK, we’re all grown ups, it’ll be fine,” Simon grabs her hand and pulls her down onto his lap. “It’s gona be A-OK, it’s gona be A-OK,” he starts singing into her ear to the tune of George Harrison’s song ‘I Got My Mind Set On You’, as she slaps him gently away laughing.
I sigh, and look over at Joel who looks deep in thought.
“Are you sure you’re ok on the couch, Joel?” I ask him tentatively.
“Of course I’m sure,” he instantly snaps out of it and perks up. “Don’t give it a second thought, honestly. Mean’s I get to be couch commander all night long,” he smiles and winks at me as he swigs a very long draw on his beer.
Chapter 2
After a
n hour or so of chilling out at the chalet, we all wrapped up in warm layers and made our way into town on foot for some dinner. We found a great all-you-can-eat Italian place and gorged ourselves on way too much pizza and pasta, but it was to die for and I know we will, for sure, go back. Well, if they let us in again. The guys thought it would be fun to see who could eat their own body weight in pizza and I stopped counting at eight slices each. I had two slices and had to unbutton my jeans. I have no idea how they are even still alive.
As we walk up Grampian Road, the main street in Aviemore, we come across a quaint little bar with music and laughter spilling out, so we hastily head in out of the cold and now frost glimmered street. It is bustling and really loud. We meander through the crowded room until Joel eventually stops and announces we have made it to the bar. Being a whole five feet two inches tall, I hadn’t a hope in hell of seeing what is going on nor where anything is situated. All the guys in here seem to be built like bears.
“It’s sweltering in here,” Bex announces and starts stripping out of her multiple layers of clothing just as I notice an extremely good looking guy ogling us and his eyes nearly popping out of his head as she accidentally lifts her t-shirt up too far.
“Bex!” I quickly pull her t-shirt down as she hauls her sweater over her head.
“Oh, God,” she quickly clamps her hands across her chest, looking at me like she’s about to burst.
I start laughing and after a moment she joins me, albeit a bit red in the face.
“So… Hello there,” the good-looking ogler moves to stand with us.
“Umm, hi…” we say simultaneously, while looking up at him, evidentially both unsure what to say to him.
“Can I help you?” a male voice asks loudly from behind us.
Before the ogler can say any more, Simon has appeared beside us and is seriously glowering at him while looking every part the caveman.
I manage to stifle a giggle imagining him saying ‘my woman, not your woman’.
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