by Sue Watson
‘Oh my God, Jen, what are you doing?’ she was saying – like I’d been partaking in some kind of kitchen sport.
‘Lola’s pants… dangerous,’ was all I could say.
‘Lola’s pants? Have you lost it? Can you hear me, Jen?’ Jody was now shouting in my face while checking my pulse, before making a panicked phone call to resort reception shouting down the phone for medical help. Meanwhile Kate was sobbing saying, ‘She’ll never walk again,’ and Lola was asking if I could feel her sharp pinchings all over my legs (which I could!). Jody was in nurse mode now, ordering first-aid equipment. Reception said they’d send equipment as soon as someone was free, but if my life was in danger they’d call the emergency services for us.
‘Is her life in danger?’ Kate asked.
‘I’ve twisted my ankle… ooh and cricked my neck,’ I said, trying to diffuse the drama, as they lifted me onto the sofa.
Within minutes there was a sharp knocking on the chalet door and Jody rushed to answer it. She came back in with a smile on her face, followed by Jon, who I was delighted to see looked rather concerned.
‘Hi, Jenny, I was in reception when the call came through. I have brought the first aid… again. What happened?’
‘I hurt my neck,’ I said, trying to position myself elegantly on the sofa where the girls had dumped me like a bag of washing.
‘They’re not mine… these bed shorts,’ I said, like it even mattered to him. It mattered to me, though, because they were Jody’s and they had ‘KISS IT’ emblazoned across the bum region in sequins.
‘Why do you tell me all the time you are wearing clothes belonging to other women?’ He laughed and sat down next to me. He was easy, open, smiling, and the girls watched open-mouthed as he hugged me hello. ‘I think you like the crazy clothes…’
We both laughed and the girls seemed to disappear into their rooms.
‘Anyway, where are you hurt?’ he said, looking into my eyes and making my heart skid across the shiny floor.
‘Let me see,’ he said, looking closely now at my ankle then my neck and causing my knees to feel weak. I leaned towards him slightly as he moved closer, and as his strong, gentle fingers caressed my neck, I caught his eye and for a few moments the world stood still.
Then he took off his jacket and opened up his first-aid kit.
‘I enjoyed the other day,’ I said. ‘It was fun… the cake was fantastic.’ I thought of how Lola said I should be bolder, and I rested my hand on his knee. I was clever – I did this in such a way that I could pretend it was more of a balance thing than a sign of anything more. At the same time I was hoping he’d get the message.
‘Yes. What were you doing?’
‘Nothing, I wasn’t doing anything,’ I said, guiltily snatching my hand off his knee.
‘No… I didn’t mean that,’ he said, taking my hand and putting it back on his knee without taking his eyes from my neck. ‘I mean, what were you doing to cause the injury?’ He was still stroking my neck.
‘I slipped on Lola’s pants.’
‘Were you wearing the shorts at the time?’
I nodded. And he smiled again, like he wanted to laugh but was trying to be businesslike. I kept my hand on his knee as he continued caressing my neck. I could feel his breath at the side of my face and, turning slightly, my lips met his. It was so much better than even the wonderful kiss at Saas Fee – this was deeper and more passionate. His hands moved around my back, round my waist, and he opened my mouth with his tongue, pushing me gently into the sofa. Then in the middle of this pure bliss, this tidal wave of ecstasy, I heard a giggle coming from Jody and Kate’s bedroom and remembered we weren’t alone.
I pulled away.
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I am not in the position to be kissing you.’
‘No, it’s fine, your position is… fine. It’s just that my friends are here and I would hate for them to walk in and…’
‘Ahhh, I see. Yes, then I will go. You can stand on your ankle and your neck is good, yes?’
‘Yes,’ I said, working out how to stop him leaving, just disappearing into the snow forever. The girls were right. You couldn’t just rely on fate – you had to go for it.
‘I was wondering if I could perhaps buy you a coffee? To thank you for the lovely time we had in Saas Fee?’ I heard myself say.
‘That would be… nice,’ he said. It wasn’t quite the overwhelming response I was hoping for, but perhaps the staff weren’t allowed to fraternise with each other?
‘Later today?’ I suggested.
‘I can’t today, I am, er… busy today…’
I wanted to die. All the signals had been there, hadn’t they? Or was I just naïve like Jody said I was and because I wanted a big love affair, I was creating one in my head? And why did he hesitate before saying he was busy? There was definitely something he wasn’t sharing. Did he have a girlfriend? I’d assumed he was single; he said he’d been in a relationship and it was over. All this was going through my head like a freight train, and as he got up to go, he brushed my hand with his fingers.
‘Tomorrow? Coffee… we can meet tomorrow? We can have drinks and talk and… I like to spend time with you, Jenny.’
I agreed, delighted at this ‘almost date’ but still a niggle in the back of my mind worried that he wasn’t quite what he seemed, or what I’d painted him to be. Perhaps over a coffee in the light of day without neck pain or a hangover I could work out what was actually going on here – in reality as opposed to in my head.
The following day my neck was a little stiff, but fortunately my ankle was fine and my only concern was what little I had to wear, lamenting the fact that somewhere in Europe my perfect pastel-blue cashmere jumper was lying unworn in an airport. ‘That would have been perfect for a casual coffee,’ I said. ‘Not too much, not too suggestive or “I’m on a date-ish”, just a subtle, “It’s only coffee with a friend, but I’m open to more” feel to it.’
I had bought some practical outerwear in Saas Fee but nothing in my current wardrobe said ‘casual coffee with a promise’.
‘What about my new pink padded jacket?’
‘Miss Piggy,’ Kate said absently. ‘No… not Miss Piggy… someone from The Biggest Loser, before they lose all the weight.’ She giggled to herself and I wished she wasn’t quite so honest at times.
‘There’s the dinosaur pyjama top?’ Jody joked.
‘Sadly that’s gone back to its owner, but you can laugh,’ I said. ‘He’s seen me in worse.’
‘There’s my special jumper. I was saving it for a special occasion,’ Kate said, pulling out a lovely coffee-coloured merino-wool jumper from her drawer.
‘That’s so lovely,’ I said. ‘Thank you, Kate, but it’s your special jumper and probably cost a fortune. It’s beautiful, but I would only worry about spilling coffee down it, so thank you but I won’t.’
I was touched she’d offered to lend it to me – that’s what friends did for friends. I hadn’t realised, but I’d missed female friendship in recent years. They were good for the soul.
I arrived at the coffee shop and as Jon hadn’t arrived yet I ordered one for myself and sat outside to watch the snow and the skiing. It was so Christmassy. I could hear ‘Jingle Bells’ coming from inside as I sipped on the hot, strong coffee, which warmed me and soothed my nerves, and I thought how perfect everything seemed at this moment. I had to smile to myself. Jody had been spot on when she said I always wanted the perfect picture – but I knew now that it was what was underneath that mattered.
I was thinking about this when Jon appeared at the table. He seemed so big and handsome and gentle, and he hugged me with both arms and kissed my cheek – it was more continental than sexual, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I offered to buy him a coffee, but he said he’d ordered and once he’d sat down, the waitress arrived with a tray carrying two large glasses of Glühwein.
‘I know it’s a little early for the après ski, but it’s almost Christmas,’ he said and smiled
as the waitress put one of the glasses down in front of me.
‘It’s my favourite,’ I said, holding the warm glass with both hands and breathing in the cinnamon-laced alcohol of Christmas. Sipping it as we chatted, I was filled with a warmth inside and out. I liked his smile, I loved his accent and I enjoyed being with him. He talked animatedly about the skiing as we watched people swooping down the slopes in a rainbow of colours, laughter, shouting, and excited children having snowball fights nearby. The landscape was spectacular, snow falling gently – huge fragile snowdrops floating to the ground and forming a lace curtain in the air that framed the spectacular mountains looming in the distance.
‘I can’t believe I’m here,’ I sighed. ‘This is just pure Christmas. How could anyone be anywhere else this time of year… well, any time of year really.’
‘Yes, she is a beautiful country. Everything is here.’ He smiled. ‘Tell me about your home. I went to London once, with my school… Big Ben… a big clock and a big river – the Thames?’ he asked, making a ‘th’ sound as he said it. ‘You will come with me and see Saas Fee again one day?’
I said I’d love to and he talked about the chair lift that we could take at night, flying over the village and up the slopes. ‘The village, she is like a million stars on the ground,’ he said. And like those fragile snowflakes falling all around me, I just melted.
He asked me about my work and I told him all about the library. ‘It wasn’t my dream job,’ I explained. ‘But once I started I quite enjoyed the idea of neat books all on a shelf and the job involves cataloguing and cross-referencing so it’s okay – but I long to do something else, live another life.’
‘Ah yes. But…’ He looked puzzled. ‘You don’t look like a book lady to me…’
‘Yes, well I think people have a rather limited view of librarians.’ I laughed. ‘Librarians are often considered to be boring and a bit dry… always telling people to shush. I can understand that. I mean we’re stuck inside buildings full of old books all day – what are people expected to think? But it isn’t true. I spent the first few years of my career trying to prove to everyone how interesting I was.’ I smiled. ‘And I may work in a dusty old library, but I have my dreams and dance on tables.’
‘Like the other night? In On the Piste?’
‘Oh no, you were there?’
He nodded and smiled. ‘I was on duty – I am the first aider, and I had to be holding my breath as you danced on the table.’
At first I thought this was because I was dancing so seductively, but he explained he was worried about me having another accident.
‘You should have said hello,’ I said, aware of my face flushing; if I’d known he was there I would have restrained myself – but then again…
‘You were too busy having the fun with your friends. And I worried if I waved you would be waving back and uh oh… on the floor.’
‘Ah, good point. I don’t think I have good coordination.’
‘Your coordination she is beautiful.’
‘Thank you,’ I smiled. No one had said that to me before, not surprisingly. I tried to bat away the horrific images of me singing and staggering and laughing loudly. ‘So, now you’ve seen me at my worst…’
‘Your best.’
He looked at me intently when he said this and made me feel all warm and soft inside. I was still having the odd struggle with enjoying the moment, and it suddenly occurred to me that I might be one of many women he’d kissed at the resort. Perhaps I wasn’t special at all, just another one on his list?
‘Do you often go out for coffee with single ladies?’
‘I’m not what you call the escort – I don’t get paid to be with the single ladies.’ He was shaking his head and laughing.
‘No. I wasn’t suggesting you were some kind of male prostitute,’ I said, thinking, why did I have to say that? When is it ever okay to use the phrase ‘male prostitute’ when you’re on a potential first date?
‘I like you, Jenny. You make me smile with your wacky clothes and your weird dancing.’
I didn’t hear what he said; I just melted again at the way he swapped W for V.
We finished our drinks and he ordered two more and not once did he say, ‘You’re a bit tipsy,’ or, ‘We shouldn’t really be drinking in the daytime,’ the way Tim used to. I was discovering this lovely new-found freedom where I made my own decisions, drank too much, ate cake for breakfast and wore pyjamas on my day off – and after all this time it made me giddy.
‘So, Jenny, do you have a… boyfriend in England?’
‘No. If I did, I wouldn’t be having coffee with you. Not that I see you in that way, I just mean – if I had a boyfriend I’d be here with him now, sitting by a log fire, toasting marshmallows with the man of my dreams.’
He smiled and looked into my eyes and I could almost smell those toasting mallows and see firelight glinting – or perhaps it was just the Glühwein running through my veins.
‘You have the sadness,’ he suddenly said, still looking into my eyes like he was searching for something. ‘I understand… I have it too…’
‘Oh no, I’m great. I’m not sad really. I was a little, but being here seems to have lifted the sadness I was feeling.’
He shook his head while continuing to smile and reaching out his hand to touch mine. ‘You have a sad time, Jenny. I want to make you smile again.’
As the Glühwein flowed so did my conversation and by mid-afternoon I’d told him even more of my life story. He had it all, from my father leaving, to a repeat of the final, festive romantic denouement with Tim and even the aftermath of confined doughnut consumption and self-loathing that followed.
You are lovely, you don’t deserve the sadness,’ he said, looking into my eyes.
‘Don’t be nice to me – I’m just being silly,’ I said. ‘There are lots of women who have had break-ups or who can’t have children, or leave it too late like me… it’s not the end of the world.’ I hated the way he must see me: self-pitying and self-obsessed.
‘Perhaps you still have time… to have a child?’ he said.
For the past twelve months (ironically since Tim and I had broken up) my periods had been coming irregularly, or sometimes not at all. I’d been to the doctor, who said it was probably early menopause and offered me hormones, but Jody said I should try getting through it without medication, so I threw them away.
‘No. I think I have to give up on that dream. Children aren’t going to be part of my life, and I need to accept that,’ I said unconvincingly as I wiped away a tear. ‘I’m so sorry. You must think I’m an awful, self-obsessed person. I keep bursting into tears and going on about myself. You hardly know me and here I am rambling about lost dreams and never-to-be babies.’
‘No, I feel for you. But don’t worry, another dream will come along,’ he said.
I liked his optimism; it filled me with hope and made me think that one day I might just be able to be in a relationship again, with someone like him.
‘Yes, I’ll have to think of another dream.’ I smiled.
‘No – you can’t “think” of a dream,’ he said gently. ‘You must let go and it will find you. We call it Schicksal. I think in English it’s called fate.’
‘Yes, I’m a great believer in fat.’ I smiled, thinking of how we’d met again because he’d been sent to perform first aid on my neck.
He ordered more drinks and I asked him in more detail about his own life and was surprised to learn that he’d been married.
‘It was short – we didn’t last very long.’ He sighed. ‘She lives in Germany now…’ He was about to say something else then seemed to think better of it.
‘What?’ I asked, hoping he’d share it with me. After all, I’d shared everything with him, my whole life until that moment in fact – whether he’d wanted to hear it or not.
‘Nothing, I just… I feel like I failed… I understand you when you say you’re frightened to go into a relationship.’
I
nodded. ‘Are you? Frightened?’
‘I think so, yes. I haven’t had a girlfriend since my marriage ended. I have resigned myself to being single, like you.’
‘Yes, it seems so much easier,’ I said.
‘That is until someone comes along…’
He looked at me across the table and reached his hand towards mine again, brushing my fingers with his.
‘Jenny, I liked you in Saas Fee… a lot.’
‘Oh, do you like me here too?’ I smiled.
‘Very much.’
He leaned forward and so did I, and instinctively our lips met and we kissed, and all I could think was that I never wanted this moment to stop.
I thought about all the books I’d read where the romantic hero is impossibly perfect, which was why I’d given up on finding one – but here he was, straight out of a novel. He had Mr Darcy’s cool, Rhett Butler’s kisses and Heathcliff’s wild, unruly hair – I could only imagine what he was like in bed. I tried not to think too much about this as I was becoming dangerously drunk on Glühwein and any moment now I might clear the table, climb on top and begin a loud rendition of ‘Last Christmas’. I had to be stopped.
I can blame the Glühwein, the music, the setting, the fact that it was close to Christmas and I knew the girls would be après skiing until late. On the other hand I could take full responsibility for what happened next.
Chapter 11
Frosty Skies and Gingerbread Kisses
We wandered back through the snow, passing children’s snowball fights and smiling people in padded suits. ‘Last Christmas’ was playing in one of the chalets, and I was reminded with a frisson that Christmas wasn’t far away. There was snow on the ground, music dancing through the frosty skies and I was going back to a Swiss chalet with a handsome guy who’d just told me he liked me ‘very much’. Did life get any better than this?
I was finally the heroine in my own Christmas story – and everything was perfect, like a well-crafted scene from one of my favourite books.
Back in the chalet we lit the fire and opened a bottle of red, letting it breathe while we lay on the rug just looking at each other. The firelight twinkled in his eyes and I kissed him, pushing my hands under his thick jumper, feeling the warm, hard flesh underneath and the softness of his mouth on mine. We tore at each other’s clothes until we were both naked, rolling around in front of the crackly fire, the dancing flames the only light in the room. He was light and gentle at first, placing soft, tender kisses everywhere and then he was inside me, panting, my cries of ecstasy filling the air and taking me somewhere I’d never been before. And when it was over we just lay there naked and entwined, letting the firelight dance over our bodies.