‘Lily?’ Ivy leant forward, looking concerned. ‘Are you OK?’
Lily came out of her reverie with a jolt. ‘Sorry! I was just thinking about something.’
‘Something work-related?’
‘Not really. Well, kind of.’ Lily frowned. ‘Work is OK. I feel ungrateful for moaning about it, really, because it’s a good job. The staff are lovely and the clients are all pretty nice, apart from a few constantly showing me their scrotum. It’s just not…’
‘Exciting?’ Ivy offered. ‘All jobs feel like that at times. Even mine.’
Lily scoffed. She couldn’t imagine Ivy feeling that way about her job. She was practically a workaholic. Everything revolved around Ivy’s job, from her early morning gym sessions (spliced with yoga for her ‘emotional well-being’) to the ready-prepared, healthy meals she slotted into her day at the correct intervals. Lily used to wonder if Ivy scheduled in time to have sex with whoever she was seeing at the time the way she did her yoga sessions. Ivy truly was that organised and premediated about certain things, even though she constantly took risks when it came to work.
‘Maybe I need to do something drastic on the job front,’ Lily mused, perusing the menu. She wasn’t sure why she was even looking at it. She always ordered two starters: the spinach and mushroom crêpes (mouth-wateringly delicious and oozing with gruyere cheese) and the baked crottin – warmed goat cheese with walnuts, croutons and golden raisins. Ivy was always going on about Lily stepping out of her comfort zone, but Lily liked what she liked and she felt much safer when she surrounded herself with familiar things.
Ivy’s eyes dropped to her menu and Lily knew she was searching for the most nutritious, low-fat options. ‘Drastic? In what sense? And I’m not sure I can see that happening, but I would love to.’ Ivy turned and spoke to the waiter. ‘I’ll have the asparagus without the hollandaise and the salmon and ratatouille please.’ She handed her menu over and gave Lily her full attention.
Lily didn’t blame her sister for thinking that. When did she do anything that could be described as ‘drastic’? Jamie popped into Lily’s head again and she felt a shiver inside. Could she really be thinking about telling him how she felt? No, that would be insane.
‘I… have some news actually,’ Ivy offered carefully.
Knowing this would be work news, Lily idly wondered what drink to order next. Prosecco? Sauvignon Blanc? A Porn Star Martini, if only to see the look of horror on the waitress’s face? Lily felt disloyal to her sister momentarily. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in Ivy’s work. Lily just wished Ivy would open up a bit more sometimes and perhaps talk about her personal life.
‘So, I’ve met someone,’ Ivy announced.
Lily’s head snapped up, cocktails and wine list forgotten. ‘What?’
Ivy’s cheeks flushed instantly.
‘You’re blushing!’ Lily said.
‘God, am I?’ Openly cringing, Ivy put her hands to her hot cheeks.
Lily was gobsmacked. She had never seen Ivy like this before. Ivy was usually so composed. The last time Lily had seen her sister blush was when they were at school and Ivy had walked through an entire assembly hall with her skirt tucked into the back of her knickers. Understandably, Ivy had turned beetroot and had been utterly mortified and she had been known as ‘Wednesday’ for a long while afterwards, due to the unusual etching of the days of the week on the back of her knickers.
Ivy recovered herself but flapped a hand in front of her face for good measure. ‘Lordy. Don’t let me do that again.’
‘Ivy.’ Lily leant forward. ‘Do you have the feels?’
Ivy pulled a face. ‘What sort of expression is that?’ She gulped down some of her martini. ‘But if you mean do I have feelings for this person? Then… maybe. I mean only “maybe” at this stage. But yes. I like him.’
‘Wow.’ Lily stared at her sister. Ivy was exceptionally pretty and she had men chasing after her constantly. It had been that way since school. But Ivy was famously married to her job and apart from the odd, rather uptight boyfriend over the years, Ivy remained cool in the face of men hotly pursuing her. Lily wondered who had caught Ivy’s attention enough to make her blush and act all flustered.
‘So. Who’s the guy? Anyone I know?’
‘Thank you,’ Ivy said to the waitress as her asparagus arrived. ‘Mmmm, that smells good.’
‘Not as good as mine,’ Lily said, inhaling her spinach and mushroom crêpes. ‘Look at all this gruyere… I’ll have to go for a long gym session after work on Monday.’
‘Hardly,’ Ivy scoffed. ‘You’re lovely and slim. I have to watch my weight far more than you do. As soon as I hit my thirties, I started expanding. You’ll be fine for years before you have to worry about that stuff.’
Lily rolled her eyes and attacked her crêpes. ‘So who’s the guy?’
Ivy look suspiciously like she might be blushing again. ‘Shall we order some Sauvignon Blanc? I… don’t want to say too much at this stage. It’s early days.’
‘How early?’
‘Like… a few months. Three, four…’ Ivy shrugged vaguely. ‘It might come to nothing.’
‘Well, you clearly think it’s something,’ Lily returned swiftly. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t be acting like a big girl’s blouse.’
Ivy recoiled at the accusation but said nothing, focusing herself on the wine order. Lily wondered why Ivy was being so cagey. Was the new man thirty years older? Was he a drug dealer? Did he… God forbid and Lily devoutly prayed not – wear corduroy at the weekends?
‘I’ll tell you about him in due course,’ Ivy said, softening when she saw Lily’s frown. ‘I want to tell you more, really I do. I’m just being cautious. And silly, probably. But you might not… approve.’
‘Approve?’ Lily laughed. Now Ivy really was being silly. ‘Since when do you need my approval for anything? I’m not judgemental. I just want you to be happy.’
‘I’m being so secretive,’ Ivy said apologetically. She reached across the table and squeezed Lily’s hand. ‘And maybe “approval” isn’t the right word. I just haven’t felt this way before and I’m being cautious because… well, I don’t know why really. And once I know it’s serious on both sides, I’ll tell you more. OK?’
‘OK.’ Lily picked up the glass of sauvignon the waitress had just brought them. ‘Well. Cheers. To love.’
‘To… love,’ Ivy agreed.
Lily sipped her wine. Now she felt even more strongly that she should tell Jamie how she felt about him. If Ivy – the devout commitment-phobe – could get herself into a relationship, maybe it was about time Lily took control of her own life and started the ball rolling.
Chapter Two
A Week Later
‘Is this pressure all right for you?’ Lily asked. She sighed, feeling exhausted. It was already the sixth massage of the day and this client was also very hairy – even hairier than Kieran. He was a lovely client, but he was so covered in hair it was like massaging a thick animal pelt. It didn’t put Lily off as such; she was used to such things, but she could barely reach his skin and had to go deeper with her strokes to make sure she was getting the muscles.
Lily also felt distracted. The spa had put all their Christmas decorations up the day before with baubles and tinsel everywhere – all matching, all very tasteful. There was a large Christmas tree in the reception area with fake gift-wrapped presents underneath it and it was beautiful, but Lily ached for something more authentic.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Ivy and her new boyfriend. She really wanted her sister to be happy and Lily wondered who the lucky man was, but Lily also couldn’t stop thinking about Jamie. About telling Jamie how she felt about him. She wasn’t sure she could pluck up the courage, but she knew she simply had to step out of her comfort zone.
God! She was seeing Jamie later tonight. Lily’s hand glided over the thick hair on her client’s back. She really should tell Jamie tonight. I mean, what did she have to lose? He was between girlfriends a
s far as she knew. In fact, he’d been rather quiet on that front for a while, so it might be the perfect time to tell him how she felt.
Lily gulped.
‘Pressure’s great,’ her client mumbled into the couch.
Lily focused herself on the task at hand, using deep pressure and firm strokes. The scent from the warm oil drifted up and relaxed her; a mixture of sweet almond oil, Indian bay, clove bud and lavender. Finishing up, Lily placed a large glass of iced water on the side and left so her client could get dressed in his gown (hopefully with his balls hidden).
After checking him out at reception and showing him to the door, Lily perused the appointments schedule online. She had fifteen minutes before her next client was due to arrive, so she headed out through the back door to check her phone. She was just flipping through her messages when her phone started to ring. It was her best friend, Imogen.
‘Is that Lilian Lil McLilbeth?’
Lily felt herself grin on the inside. Imogen was that kind of best friend – the kind who could always make you laugh even with the way they say hello.
‘Ims. It is so good to hear your voice.’
‘I know, right?’ Imogen laughed. ‘Likewise, my friend.’
Lily checked her watch and settled down on a bench in the calm area reserved for staff. The trees were losing the last of their autumnal leaves and the small, neat square of lawn was almost completely covered with a scattering of orange, yellow and red.
‘How’s the job?’ Imogen asked.
Lily sighed. ‘I mean, it’s good. No, it’s not. But it’s a job and I’m lucky to have it and all that.’
‘God. You really are in a bad way,’ Imogen commented. ‘I get why you don’t want to sound ungrateful for having a job, but still. You should be doing something you love. Like me.’
‘You sound like my sister. She loves her job too. And she has a new boyfriend.’ Lily rolled her eyes. ‘Is this the part where you tell me how amazing your life is and how wonderful your job in Chamonix is?’
‘Yes. Yes, it is. Because it is, actually. Ivy has a boyfriend?’
‘Apparently.’
‘That’s a turn up. Anyway, my job.’
Lily could hear Imogen chuckling happily down the phone.
‘My job is snow and it’s skiing and it’s nights outs and it’s great company and lovely food and a teeny, tiny bit of work and… and it’ll be Christmas here soon as well and that will be heavenly!’
‘Yes, yes. Well, you’ve got me with the Christmas bit. It sounds gorgeous.’
‘It’s gorgeous year-round here, Lil. Even in the summer it’s stunning. But covered in snow, with all the decorations up…’
Lily smiled. ‘It sounds wonderful. I mean, I’ve never skied before, so I have no idea if it’s a good thing or not…’
‘It really is, Lily! And you’d be a natural.’
‘Irrelevant,’ Lily commented. ‘Seeing as I have no desire whatsoever to throw myself down a mountain anytime soon. I don’t get it, but Jamie raves about it all the time. He loves skiing so much. But really, why, for fuck’s sake?’
‘Oh, so many reasons! I’m going to try and change your mind about the whole skiing thing.’
Lily changed the subject. ‘In other news, I might tell Jamie how I feel about him.’
‘What?!’ Imogen was well aware that Lily had feelings for Jamie, but she had been listening to talk of it for months now and wasn’t convinced it was ever going to be a thing. ‘When?’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Lily faltered. ‘Er… soon? Tonight, maybe? I’m seeing him tonight.’
‘Wowzers.’ Imogen was momentarily silenced. ‘Well, it’s about time, isn’t it? You’ve been going on about Jamie for so long now. It’s about time he knew how you felt.’
‘Yes.’ Lily felt excited and scared at the same time. ‘What if he doesn’t feel the same?’
‘Of course he will,’ Imogen scoffed. ‘You two hang out together all the time. You’re those cheesy best friends who love each other and don’t get together for years and then they do.’
Lily felt a smile lighting up her face and mentally slapped herself for being such a sap. ‘We’re not best friends, as such. But we’re good friends.’
‘Details, details. God, you’ll have to stay in touch every half hour tonight so I know what’s happening.’ Imogen paused. ‘Anyway, I had an actual reason for phoning you. Our sports masseuse has just resigned.’
Lily stood up, sure she was being called back into the spa. She could hear Karen’s voice calling her like a shouty school marm.
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, and I wondered if you might fancy the job.’
‘What?’ Lily frowned. ‘What job? The one in Chamonix?’
‘Yes of course, the one in Chamonix!’ Imogen sounded impatient. ‘Come on, Lils. It would be amazing if we were here together. I could teach you to ski and you could do the massage thing and there are some really nice people here… really lovely boys here…’
Lily thought about it seriously for a moment. Snow she could cope with. Snow, she loved. Christmassy. But skiing was an unknown, so she couldn’t comment on that. The Alps? Lily was sure they were beautiful. Chamonix – breathtaking, no doubt. But it was just too much. Too big a change. And there was far too much keeping her here. Lily would miss Jamie too much. And her sister.
She brought herself out of her reverie, certain she could hear her name being called. ‘I have to go. It’s a lovely thought, Ims, and I’d love to see more of you, but maybe I’ll come for a visit? Moving to Chamonix is a bit too drastic, I think. And I have… stuff here I’m kinda attached to…’
‘Boo! OK then. I have a ski lesson, so I’ll let you get on. Tell me what happens with Jamie?’
‘Of course.’
Lily ended the call and felt her stomach lurch again. She’d have to focus on work to take her mind off meeting Jamie tonight. Dashing inside the spa again, Lily put everything out of her mind apart from massages.
* * *
Hours later, Lily was fiddling with her hair in the upmarket toilets of a funky cocktail bar in Covent Garden that was way out, even for one of Jamie’s choices. She had pinned the front of her auburn hair up with some tendrils hanging down and when she had left the spa, it had looked pretty good. A tube journey and some drizzle as she dashed through the cobbled streets later and her sophisticated half-up-do turned into a wet, droopy mess that made her look like a wet spaniel.
Giving up on her hair, Lily nervously checked her make-up. It wasn’t too bad. Her professional Kardashian ‘smoky eye’ was still in place and her up-flick eyeliner was immaculate. Touching up her nude lip gloss, Lily decided it would have to do. She had made an effort with her outfit, but hopefully in a very casual way. Black leather trousers with zips at the ankles teamed with little tasselled suede boots, a cropped white top and a mock leopard skin coat.
Was she too old for a cropped top at her age? Lily thought she just about rocked it. She supposed she would have to lower the length of her tops at some point, but not just yet hopefully. Removing the coat and hanging it over her arm, Lily headed back out to the cocktail bar. It was Jamie’s choice of venue and Lily couldn’t help raising her eyebrows at her surroundings. Floral walls adorned with over-sized blooms clashing haphazardly with banquettes in garish prints and a cocktail list full of classics with some unique new offerings with comedy names and ‘of the moment’ ingredients. It wasn’t quite her fantasy of cocktails in Mayfair on velvet thrones, but maybe it could come close. And at least they hadn’t put their Christmas decorations up yet. Lily couldn’t imagine what decorations wouldn’t clash hideously with the décor in this place. Maybe they just sprayed glitter over everything and called it festive.
Lily looked around for Jamie. He was nowhere to be seen, but he was notoriously late, so she wasn’t too worried. Taking a seat at the bar – inelegantly because it was one of those silly stools no self-respecting person can climb onto with any degree of dignity – she order
ed herself a ‘Smooth Criminal’ for Dutch courage. It was a shot containing chocolate liqueur, hazelnut liqueur, and spiced rum with cardamom seeds scattered on top. Necking it swiftly, Lily took a deep breath. She was doing this. She was actually doing this.
‘Red!’
Turning, Lily felt herself blushing, rather like Ivy had the other week. It was his voice. Jamie had the most sexy, manly, knicker-twanging voice.
‘Jamie!’
She kissed his cheek and found herself enveloped in his effusive hug. He smelt good. Always. Of the woody aftershave he always wore and just something that was so Jamie. Washing powder, hair gel and probably Lynx or something similar. But it all suited him and smells had always been so evocative to Lily. Jamie’s smell reminded her of her youth and of happiness and she always felt at home when he was around her. He had come straight from work, so he was in a navy suit with the tie hanging out of his pocket and his shirt unbuttoned at the neck. To complete the look, Jamie wore pointy, shiny shoes. In short, he wore the uniform of the young and trendy in the City – but he wore it well.
‘Have you started without me?’ he asked, edging onto the chair next to her.
‘Oh that.’ Lily pushed the shot glass away, embarrassed. ‘No, that was just…’ Her voice tailed off. She couldn’t tell him it was to give herself courage to tell him how she felt. She could do with another ten, but still. It was a start.
‘No matter.’ Jamie raked his hand through his dark, floppy hair. ‘Let’s get a bottle of something. Prosecco?’
Lily nodded. She loved that Jamie drank bubbles. Men so rarely did. Accepting a glass some minutes later, she chinked hers against his.
‘To us,’ she said, without thinking. She felt herself flush. What an idiot! ‘Oh, I just meant…’
‘To us!’ Jamie echoed, tapping his glass to hers. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Friends,’ Lily murmured.
‘That’s it.’ He sat back and grinned at her. ‘So, Red. What’s happening with you?’
Christmas in Chamonix Page 2