Christmas in Chamonix
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Acknowledgements
Copyright
For Ben. For the skiing but mostly, for us X
Chapter One
November
Lily Jackson pushed her elbows into her client’s incredibly hairy back and let out a deep sigh. It was more about Lily’s state of mind than part of the treatment, but it seemed to help; her client let out an identically pleasurable sigh and relaxed visibly into the towelling-covered couch.
‘So good,’ he murmured into the face hole.
‘Great,’ Lily said, keeping one hand on the client’s back as she reached for more oil. She was sure it was great for her client, but not so much for her, it had to be said. Massaging someone with such thick hair wasn’t the most fun, however much she generally liked her job. Perhaps it was just that it was a little predictable. Lily was the sort of person who liked to feel safe and secure, but she also didn’t like to stand still. And in her current job, she was definitely standing still.
Find a positive, find a positive, Lily intoned to herself. OK, so she loved the scent of the oil! Yes, she did. It contained juniper berry for detoxifying, rosemary to stimulate the circulation and warming black pepper. Her heart sank slightly. Was that all she could come up with? That she liked the smell of the oil? Good God. Maybe it was time for a change. Not that Lily particularly liked change. She had only had one other job because she hated the disruption and having to adapt to new things.
‘Is this pressure OK?’ she asked, doing her best to fulfil her brief as a calming, professional masseuse.
‘Perfect,’ her client mumbled. ‘My shoulder feels so much better.’
Lily felt gratified by that and momentarily considered her client. Kieran was a professional rugby player and might even be a famous one, but Lily wasn’t really sure because rugby wasn’t her thing. He had the chunky thighs, on reflection, but his face was… meh. And Lily was all about the face. And the eyes. And the voice.
She mentally pulled herself back into the room and accepted his compliment.
‘Fantastic. Just relax into the couch and I’ll make sure all these knots under the shoulder blade disappear.’
Lily focused her attention on the massage. This was a sports massage, meaning the emphasis was on the manipulation of a certain muscle’s soft tissue in order to treat an injury and help prevent any further injury. Unlike a deep tissue massage, which focuses on putting pressure on the layers of tissue in the body, a sports massage relies upon safely and skilfully manipulating the damaged, fragile tissue to heal it. It was complicated, but Lily had been doing this job for ten years, so she was – if not an expert – shit hot. Ish. Totally in her comfort zone.
Thoughts of Jamie drifted into Lily’s head and she allowed herself to indulge in them while the other half of her mind made sure the massage was perfectly executed. Her and Jamie on holiday in the Maldives. A water cottage with its own decking area for meals, a glass floor to watch the fish weaving through the aquamarine water beneath it and… and a curved slide to enter the water with a whoop and a splash! Lily felt a beaming smile spread across her face. Cocktails she’d never heard of because they were so cool and unique, both of them seated on velvet thrones in a swanky Mayfair bar with her favourite canapés. Shellfish-based, if she was allowed to choose. Which she was, because it was her fantasy. What else? Oh yes. A weekend away in a country hotel with a roaring fire and brisk walks with a dog. The French bulldog they had chosen together called Hugo. They would dress Hugo in a bow tie and bowler hat, if the whim took them, and he would ‘complete them’ before they decided to have a gorgeous little baby. Once they were married, natch. And it was about time she got married, or at the very least got together with the man of her dreams, because she was thirty-two. And as everyone knew, being thirty-two was brilliant in many ways, but not if one was single and didn’t have a ‘proper plan’, as Lily’s best friend Imogen called it, for acquiring a man and a future that involved marriage and babies. Which Lily wasn’t entirely sure she wanted, but she would very much like to be in a relationship. She had been single for longer than she cared to remember, even though it was probably actually less than six months.
Lily had had boyfriends. Four serious ones, a few not-so-serious ones and what she felt was an adequate but not slutty number of casual flings. Why hadn’t those relationships worked out? The serious ones, at least. She supposed it was because she had always felt as though something was missing. A special connection. Sizzling chemistry. Friendship. Something.
Lily sighed again, but this time, not so pleasurably. The problem was, none of these delicious thoughts she had about Jamie were memories; they were fantasies.
The actual memories were almost as good, they just didn’t involve Jamie and Lily being a couple. But the memories of hanging out after school listening to music, picnics and rounders in the park, sharing Oreo milkshakes and discussing who they both fancied were still lovely. Jamie had fancied far more girls than Lily had boys and that had always jarred slightly, but still. Lily had always acted chilled about it, no matter who Jamie was fixated on. The point was, Jamie had been a huge part of Lily’s childhood and beyond that. Thinking of their friendship developing into something else almost felt like a natural step. Not to mention how fantastic she assumed the kissing would be. And the sex…
Oh yes, the sex. This was something Lily fantasised about far more than she probably should. It was just so much fun thinking about Jamie and what he’d be like in bed. She had built him up into a veritable sex god, capable of slow, achingly romantic love-making all the way to hot, thrusting quickies and everything in between.
Why hadn’t they ever got together? It was a question Lily had asked herself on and off through the years. They had friendship and a special connection borne out of all of the years they had been close. Was it the lack of chemistry? No, there was chemistry. Timing? Bad timing. Perhaps that was the answer.
Lily relaxed deeply into the massage, making sure all the shoulder knots had gone. Kieran groaned and moaned into his towelling hole as if he was enjoying the massage very much indeed. Lily finished up and walked back into the room some time later with a glass of iced water, finding Kieran wrapped in the fluffy, navy towelling robe all clients were given, seated in one of the small armchairs in the corner of the room. His face was bright red from the massage and he sat with his gigantic thighs spread far apart, clearly unaware that he was showing off all of his rugby tackle. Again.
Lily averted her eyes and wondered if she should mention to her client that his scrotum was on show for the fifteenth time. The spa was very keen to maintain a professional stance at every turn, but Lily felt it might be helpful for Kieran to know that he was displaying his wares every time he came to the spa.
‘Brilliant massage,’ Kieran commented, accepting
the glass of water. He checked out the smooth, navy-hued walls, the piles of thick towels and the on-trend, rose gold cushions and vases as he pushed his feet into navy mules – thus exposing himself even more.
‘Thank you. I’m glad it was beneficial for you,’ Lily replied with a polite smile, keeping her eyes on his gaze and away from his tackle.
‘My favourite thing in the world, massages,’ Kieran commented, looking in no hurry to leave. He scratched his balls and Lily winced.
‘I do really love Christmas, though. And that will be here before we know it! What do you think… er, Lily, is it? Are you excited about Christmas?’
Lily chewed her lip and tried not to smile. She adored Christmas. She could wax lyrical about Christmas for a long time, and she had this fantasy about what she thought the perfect Christmas should be like. A non-commercial, snowy, steeped-in-tradition type of thing.
‘I love it, actually,’ she answered blandly, knowing she had to respond in some fashion. ‘Not that I find it that Christmassy here, to be fair.’ London was so busy in December and full of tourists. It just felt so commercial.
‘Really? Oh, I disagree,’ Kieran enthused, finally getting to his feet and thankfully taking his balls out of sight. ‘I think it’s beautiful in December. All the lights and the decorations.’
Showing Kieran and his premature Christmas musings out, Lily wandered around the health club to while away the last half hour before finishing her shift.
The health club in Wimbledon was essentially a spa with a gym attached to it. The spa was the star attraction, featuring the standard sauna and steam rooms, an impressive plunge pool and a hydrotherapy pool with multiple jets. It also had a Hammam area, with ‘relaxed, heated seating’, an ice fountain and Turkish baths with hot, hotter and hottest rooms. And the massage therapies the spa offered were both extensive and intensive: Bamboo, Deep Tissue, Ayurvedic with Shea Butter, Hot Stone, Swedish, Lava Shell, Himalayan Salt Stone, Indian and Tibetan Head. And Sports, which was Lily’s area of expertise, even though she was also qualified in most of the others as well, not to mention elements of Tui Na, a Chinese massage which was all about releasing the flow of energy around the body.
Lily loved her job. At least, she loved being a massage therapist. She just wasn’t sure she loved working at this particular health club anymore. She often used the facilities, particularly the gym, but for work all she was ever booked to do were sports massages, which became so formulaic after a while. Even the clients seemed formulaic: people who went to the gym a lot, and the odd, genuine sportsman like Kieran. Balls may or may not be included.
The other issue was that the health club also over-booked clients, so Lily carried out massages back to back without much of a break and it could be strenuous work. The workload was heavy and it had become a drudge, carrying out the same massage after the same massage with no challenge or fresh spark whatsoever.
Lily suddenly felt guilty. Who was she to complain? It was a good job and she was lucky to have it. Deep down, Lily knew she was more dissatisfied with other areas of her life than her job, but it was still a super-strict environment and she’d had enough of looking at a stranger’s scrotum.
‘You can go when the clock hits six pm exactly,’ Karen, her boss, said from reception. ‘But only if you’ve folded all the towels and topped all the oils up.’
‘Of course,’ Lily said while thinking about placing a large custard tart on Karen’s head so all the gooey stuff oozed all over her uniform. Lily kept her mouth shut, knowing she’d already completed all of her tasks, but she headed back to her area to make sure everything was in place. Mostly just for something to do.
‘Go if you like,’ her co-worker Libby said. ‘I’ll make sure everything is ship-shape.’
Libby was Lily’s one and only friend at the spa because she was the only like-minded one there. She was younger than the others, but it wasn’t really about age. Libby just seemed more sociable and more understanding about other things going on outside of work. She was Karen’s supervisor, so she had responsibility at the spa, but Libby seemed more relaxed about everything in general. She also had a boyfriend she fancied the fuck out of and couldn’t stop telling Lily all the sordid details every time she got a chance. It was a quid pro quo situation; Lily listened to Libby’s fruity tales and Libby let her out early on occasion.
‘Are you sure?’ Lily immediately went to unbutton her navy uniform, but feeling rude, stopped herself.
Libby smiled. ‘Yes, of course. It’s Friday. Go have a cocktail – or ten. I’d come with you, but I’m meeting my fella tonight. Ooh, I can’t wait! I’m going to try and tantric him up tonight. Sting will have nothing on us by the end of the weekend!’
Lily quickly headed to the changing area and grabbed her clothes. The health spa felt especially claustrophobic today for some reason. She removed her uniform, folded it neatly and placed it in her locker. Quickly shimmying into skinny jeans, short brown suede boots and a cream off-the-shoulder top, Lily grabbed her brown, fur-trimmed jacket and made her way out of the spa. She felt that she looked pretty good. Classy and sexy – her favourite vibe.
Taking a deep breath of chilly November air, she started walking and texting simultaneously. She texted Ivy so she knew to meet her earlier, her text crossing with one from good-friend-and-provider-of-fantasy-relationship-scenarios-Jamie at the same time. It said:
‘Hey you. How’s work? Need a catch up with my bestie. Miss ya!’
Lily sent a quick text back. ‘Miss you too. Work is a bit pants. Meeting my sis tonight but fancy drinks next week?’
Jamie responded immediately. ‘Yussssss! I’m in, Red. Text me the location and I’ll be there x.’
Jamie was the only person who ever called her Red. Lily wasn’t sure she’d like it if anyone else called her that because she was auburn rather than ‘red’ as such, but it was Jamie and she loved that he had a nickname for her. ‘Red’ made her feel cool and sexy and like she was special, as stupid as that might sound.
Fifteen minutes later, Lily found herself outside the cosy French bistro she had booked a week ago, the bistro that reminded her of her parents – well, her mum and stepdad, to be precise – and their love of France. They still hopped across to Le Touquet on occasion and hired a farmhouse in the Loire valley every year, so French food was very ‘second home’ to herself and Ivy. Heading inside the restaurant with its familiar brick walls and scrubbed oak tables, Lily looked around for her sister and soon caught sight of her waving from a corner table. Ivy was wearing a black, fitted suit with a pencil skirt, a cute belted jacket and shiny, high-heeled pumps.
‘Sis!’ Ivy stood up and gave Lily a hug. ‘How come you’re out early?’
‘Karen wanted me to stay until the last minute, but Libby took pity on me.’ Lily shrugged her arms out of her jacket and slid into a chair. ‘I managed to escape before she launched into a detailed description of the tantric sex she has planned for the weekend.’
‘Yikes. Sounds awful. Still fed up with your job then?’ Ivy asked, sitting down again.
Lily sighed. ‘I guess so. Although I’m not even sure it’s about the job as such. I mean, the staff never want to go out for coffee or drinks or anything, but I don’t know… I don’t know if it’s even that.’
Ivy pushed an espresso martini across the table. ‘I ordered these for us. I know they’re not French, strictly speaking – and the look they gave me in here when I ordered them, honestly – but I figured you might need one.’
‘I really do. Thank you.’ Lily sipped the martini. ‘Oh, that’s so good. Just the right mixture of bitter and creamy.’
‘So what’s going on in your life?’ Ivy sat back.
Lily regarded her sister fondly as she enjoyed her drink. Ivy was three years older and, like Lily, had long, auburn hair, but that was where the similarity ended. Lily had slanting, jade-green eyes, freckles and a laid-back dress style, whereas Ivy had wide eyes that resembled olives, pale, freckle-free skin and she dresse
d like the smart business woman she was, even on her days off. Ivy was the CEO of a trendy, online meal plan company, the headquarters of which were in Kensington. She spent most of her time at the office or travelling around the country promoting the business elsewhere and she had been particularly busy of late.
Lily did always feel rather pale in comparison to Ivy who was such a high flyer. Lily was in control of herself most of the time and as such, she supposed she rarely stepped out of her comfort zone. Whereas Ivy seemed to do it on a regular basis.
‘Tell me all the goss,’ Ivy prompted supportively. ‘We haven’t caught up properly in months.’
Lily smiled. It was true. She and Ivy were close, but not close-close. They chatted every few days and stayed in touch with one another, but they didn’t necessarily put the world to rights or go into intimate detail about anything. Which was why Lily hadn’t ever confided in her about Jamie.
Jamie Miller. Lily’s hand paused on the stem of her martini glass. He had been her friend for, what, more than twenty years? His parents had moved into the area when they were in year eight. He had joined her senior school and they had been allocated as partners in science class. From that point on, they had become firm friends, finding themselves in the same classes on and off and making sure they spent plenty of time together outside of school too. In a purely platonic fashion, of course. Jamie had nursed Lily through her break ups and vice versa and they had remained friends throughout. Mostly Lily hadn’t ever seen Jamie as anything but a good friend because she knew that he was a bit of a tart.
Recently, Lily had begun to see Jamie differently and she had no idea why. He had always been fun and funny and impulsive, but lately, Lily had started to see him as attractive. And that had been a very surprising turn of events. She wondered if he had perhaps changed and grown up a little, and that she was sensing it. Lily assumed Jamie had no idea her feelings had changed, but maybe it was about time Lily told him. The thought of it made her stomach flip over, but if she didn’t tell him, he might never know and life would pass them by and they wouldn’t ever get to kiss or do the sex thing or get tantric like Sting…
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