‘Lily.’ There was a pause. ‘Shall I get Celine to call you tomorrow morning?’
‘Yes please!’
‘I’m on it,’ Imogen said. No cheap shots like ‘I told you so’ because that was the kind of friend Imogen was. ‘Phone me when you’re home because I want to know EVERYTHING.’
‘Will do,’ Lily said. Hearing ‘Torn’ by Natalie Imbruglia coming on the car stereo, Lily turned it up full blast and surrendered to the angst.
Chapter Four
The next week felt like a whirlwind to Lily. The phone call with Celine on Monday went like this:
‘So, Lily,’ Celine said in a charming French accent. Lily had never heard her name said so prettily. ‘I have read your CV in detail. You have excellent qualifications and you sound perfect for our opportunity here at the Boutique Hotel Devereux.’
‘Thank you so much,’ Lily had replied.
‘Please tell me more about yourself,’ Celine had asked. Her English was excellent, even though she didn’t seem as bothered about perfecting her accent.
Lily had talked about her passion for massage and her previous jobs. Celine had asked a few questions and Lily had answered to the best of her ability.
‘When can you start?’ Celine had asked crisply at the end.
‘Oh, er. Well…’ Lily hadn’t been sure what to say.
‘I am playing with you. Imogen mentioned that you hadn’t resigned yet,’ Celine had said, sounding amused. ‘Within the month would work for us, though, if you could manage that.’
‘I’m sure I can make that happen,’ Lily had replied confidently, even though she didn’t have a clue how leaving the spa was going to pan out. Immediately afterwards, she spoke to Libby about her plans. Libby was disappointed to lose her, but she was also pleased for her. She liaised with Karen, who ranted and fumed and opposed, but finally, she agreed to let Lily leave after two weeks rather than working the full month.
And so, that week, Lily set about wrapping up her life in London and preparing for Chamonix. She managed to rent her flat out to her close friend Helen, who also took on Lily’s red Mini for the time being. Lily sold a designer handbag she wasn’t fond of on eBay as well as some clothes and a pair of shoes that had cost the earth and had only been worn once. She bought some new jumpers and got some mismatched ski outfits from friends, deciding she would sort the rest out when she arrived in Chamonix. She had a black puffer jacket that was warm enough to see her through the first few weeks and, according to Imogen, she could rent the rest when she got to Chamonix, especially ski boots and skis.
Not that Lily was suddenly that keen on the idea of skiing. It still seemed like the most ridiculous idea in the world to throw herself down the side of a steep, snowy mountain with slippery things strapped to her feet. But she would worry about that later. All that mattered was that she was doing something daring. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. Lily wasn’t allowing herself to stop and think about it, otherwise she might change her mind.
She had also successfully managed to avoid talking at any length to Ivy. She had managed to keep all their chats brief and about her new job opportunity. Lily was also pleased with herself that she had avoided Jamie. He had sent her several texts asking to meet up and chat and he had called her five times. She had politely sent back a response thanking him for his messages and assuring him that she would be in touch soon. Which wasn’t a lie. Lily was planning to get in touch, but only once she had sorted out everything for her big move and she was about to leave the country.
Which was right about now, Lily thought to herself, the night before she was due to fly to Geneva, the closest airport to Chamonix. She picked her phone up, biting her lip as she tried to figure out what to say to him, when she heard her doorbell. Pushing past her suitcase and almost tripping over one of Helen’s boxes full of ‘bedding and plates,’ according to the writing scrawled across it.
Squinting through her spyhole, Lily saw Jamie on the other side. Oh, for the love of God. She didn’t want to actually see him. Speaking on the phone would have been more than enough. Wait. Was Ivy with him? Pausing before opening the door, Lily looked through the spyhole again. No, he was alone. She pulled the door open.
‘Jamie.’
She hadn’t called him ‘J’ since she’d found out about him and Ivy. There wasn’t a specific reason. It just felt weird.
‘Lily.’
And he hadn’t called her ‘Red’ since then either. Maybe he called Ivy ‘Red’ now. Oh man. How pathetic did that sound? Jamie wasn’t that crass. He obviously just felt the same as Lily did about their nickname thing.
Lily’s heart clenched as she let Jamie into her flat. Damn. He still looked good. And she still felt all wobbly around him. Her stomach was doing the flip-flop, butterfly thing and she had to fight hard not to touch him. Lily hardened her heart. She was moving to France for at least three months, which was her agreement with Celine. And it was, she was sure, the best decision she’d ever made.
‘Have a seat.’ Lily gestured to the sofa and very deliberately sat in the armchair opposite.
Jamie sat down awkwardly, even though he had thrown himself carelessly onto the very same sofa any number of times before.
‘What can I do for you?’ Lily asked politely, not sure how else to start the conversation.
Jamie rubbed his hands together, something he always did when he was nervous. ‘Erm… I’m… I don’t know…’ he faltered. ‘It’s… listen, Lily, are you really leaving?’
Lily frowned. ‘Yes, I’m really leaving.’ She pointed to her suitcase.
Jamie rubbed his hands together again. ‘OK. But you’re not going… it isn’t…’
‘Because of you?’ She finished, guessing that was where he was going with his questions. She cringed, remembering the lunch at her mum’s house a few weeks back. Lily had to keep reminding herself of that because it was what had propelled her into action and into changing her life.
Jamie shrugged. ‘I guess.’
Lily sighed. She could tell him how arrogant he sounded, asking her that, but she wasn’t sure he was being arrogant. She could deny it. But what was the point? She’d left her dignity behind in a ‘funky’, flower-covered cocktail bar in Covent Garden a few weeks ago and they both knew it.
‘Yes, Jamie,’ Lily confirmed, putting her chin in the air in an attempt to feel dignified and in control. ‘First and foremost, I am mostly leaving London because of you.’ She felt sad saying that out loud.
Jamie looked crestfallen. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.
‘But I had also had enough of my job, I never do anything outside of my comfort zone, and I miss my best friend. Imogen, that is,’ Lily added, in case he thought she meant him. Even though Jamie was almost a best friend and she was going to miss him horrendously. ‘So you’ve done me a favour, really. Not fancying me and all that.’ She swallowed, feeling her heart clench. Not being fancied was really quite shit. Especially not being fancied by Jamie.
Jamie leant forward. ‘Who said I didn’t fancy you?’ He flushed slightly, which was unusual. Lily wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him blush before and she frowned, feeling puzzled. Jamie was far too confident and self-assured for that kind of thing.
Jamie started again. ‘I mean… that’s not the point. I just had no idea you had those kinds of feelings for me. We always talk about loser boyfriends and annoying girlfriends together.’
‘Right.’ Lily couldn’t for the life of her figure out why Jamie was here. What did he want from her? Hadn’t she been embarrassed enough? And what did it matter that he didn’t know she had those feelings for him before now? ‘Listen, I have an early start in the morning…’
‘I’m sorry about Ivy,’ Jamie blurted out suddenly. ‘I’m sorry I kept it from you. You must feel betrayed and…’
‘Rather stupid?’ Lily provided helpfully. ‘Yes, something like that.’
Jamie got up and started pacing. ‘I just didn’t know where it was hea
ded, what it meant. I didn’t want to say anything if it was just a silly fling. Ivy seemed keen to keep it under wraps and not mention anything to you, so I went along with it.’
‘It honestly doesn’t matter,’ Lily said, getting to her feet. It did, of course, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. They obviously had their reasons for hiding their relationship from her, but none of them made any sense to her. She was surprised when, out of the blue, Jamie took her hand.
‘I didn’t mean to hurt you and I don’t want to lose our friendship.’ He looked earnest. Upset.
Lily’s mouth twisted as she glanced down at Jamie’s hand clasping hers. If only the circumstances were different. His hand felt warm and familiar – even though they didn’t hold hands much – and it made her feel even more bleak. She wasn’t sure she could bear Jamie being here much longer.
‘OK,’ she said eventually, feeling that she should respond to Jamie’s plea to remain friends.
‘OK? As in… you’re not hurt and you don’t want to lose our friendship either?’ Jamie bent his head to make her meet his eyes.
‘OK as in… I’m exceptionally hurt and I don’t see how we can stay friends. Not the way we were before, anyway.’ She removed her hand. ‘No more late night calls or any of that. I don’t think Ivy would like it.’
Jamie nodded slowly. ‘No, I guess not. I just wish I’d known about your feelings. Before—’
‘Before what? Before you and Ivy started seeing one another?’ Lily was beginning to feel impatient. What on earth was he on about? What difference would it have made if he’d known before he and Ivy started sharing sushi and hanging out in fancy cocktail bars?
Lily’s phone buzzed on the coffee table and she grabbed it. ‘It’s Ivy,’ she said, pointedly, holding her phone up. ‘Texting to wish me a good journey tomorrow.’
Jamie stared at the phone, then at Lily. And then he turned, decisively. ‘Right. OK. Well, I’ll leave you to your last-minute packing then.’
‘Thanks,’ Lily said, feeling relieved. She didn’t want him to go; it felt like a horrible wrench. But at the same time, this was too painful. Lily showed Jamie to the door.
‘I’ll say goodbye then.’ Jamie turned around in the doorway.
‘Goodbye.’ Lily nodded, feeling something splinter in her chest. A hairline fracture that could turn into a full-on crack if she wasn’t careful.
‘I’ll be in touch soon…?’
‘Uh-uh,’ Lily mumbled.
‘Maybe I could… I mean Ivy and I could come and visit?’ Jamie offered, his face hopeful. ‘I love skiing. I used to go with my family all the time until my dad broke his leg. I’m pretty good. I can still do reds and blacks and off-piste…’
Lily didn’t have a clue what that meant, but the main thing was that she wasn’t sure she wanted Jamie to come to Chamonix. With or without Ivy. As much as she knew she was going to miss him, wasn’t this about going cold turkey?
‘We’ll see,’ she said lamely.
‘OK. Well, let me know once you’re settled.’ Jamie looked crestfallen. ‘Bye, Lily.’
‘Bye, Jamie.’
Lily closed the door and leant against it. God! Did she want Jamie to stay in touch or would it be easier to not hear from him at all? As for visiting… that was a terrible idea. Lily had to mend her heart and stay away from Jamie. Or rather, he had to stay away from her. It wasn’t fair of him to want to stay in touch and visit.
Turning and squinting through the eyehole, she could see Jamie still standing in front of her door as if he wasn’t sure if he should knock again. Lily wouldn’t open the door if he did. After a few agonising minutes, Jamie obviously thought better of it and, moving hesitantly, he left.
Walking away with her head held high, Lily shut all the lights off in her flat and headed for the bedroom. Throwing the duvet over her head, she pushed Jamie firmly out of her thoughts and forced herself to go to sleep. Tomorrow, she was set for a whole new life and Jamie wasn’t going to be in it.
Chapter Five
Sixteen Hours Later
‘Wow.’ Lily set her case down and took in the view. An hour and a half flight from Stansted airport to Geneva and a coach transfer that had taken just over an hour and she was here. Oh God, what had she done? Suddenly, her brave decision seemed like a ridiculous one. Lily felt anxiety circling in her stomach until it felt like a ball of wool wedged in her gut. She had left her job – and her life in London – for a stay in Chamonix. In a ski resort, even though she had never skied in her life.
‘Breathtaking, isn’t it?’ Imogen agreed, mistaking Lily’s expression for one of wonder as she contemplated the snow-capped mountains and the pretty alpine village. ‘Although I’m quite blasé about it now, to be honest.’
‘I don’t think I could ever feel blasé about a view like that,’ Lily breathed in genuine awe as she soaked up her surroundings.
The village was quaint without feeling old-fashioned and the streets were lined with typical French shops. There were bakeries displaying exquisite pastries in stiff, monogrammed cardboard, stuffed with fresh cream and topped with exotic fruit or fancy, tempered chocolate garnishes. There were clothes shops displaying unusual lingerie, accessories and stylish ski wear and tabacs dotted in between the shops, their brightly coloured signs typifying France for Lily. Towards the end of the village, there were groups of charming hotels, some angular, and some with curved windows and quirky, turreted roofs, the grey slate just about visible under a fine dusting of snow. A pretty river ran through the centre, the River Arve, if Lily’s hurried research was accurate. Despite the cold climate, it still bubbled and flowed with some force.
‘Come on, let’s get you to the hotel,’ Imogen said. She stopped, dropped Lily’s luggage and threw her arms around her, her red ski jacket rustling as she hugged her best friend more tightly. ‘I’m so happy you’re here!’ She drew back. ‘I mean, I’m really sorry about Jamie and Ivy, but you know what I mean.’
‘I do,’ Lily gave her a wry smile. ‘And I’m happy to be here too.’ She had missed Imogen badly. Her best friend since school, Imogen was both reliable and fun. She was a party girl at heart, but she was also caring and kind. Lily pulled back and eyed her fondly. Imogen had dyed black hair which suited her, often wearing it slicked back in a ponytail because it was so thick, and bright blue eyes. She always wore red lipstick and winged black eyeliner. Lily believed she either slept in it or had had her distinctive make-up tattooed on by now to save time.
Pushing aside her apprehension over the hugeness of the move, Lily embraced the moment. She was with her best friend in the whole world and she had done something crazy. It would be good for her. She had said she wanted a challenge.
Imogen picked up Lily’s luggage again and started walking. ‘A quick overview for you. Mont Blanc is the highest summit in the alps. That’s the Aiguille du Midi…’ she pointed to a vast mountain above the town, ‘and there is also Pointe Helbronner, which is the mountain between France and Italy with immense glacier fields. That one is named after some French dude… Paul, I think, who pioneered… something.’
‘Hmm, very informative,’ Lily commented sarcastically. ‘Some dude called Paul who pioneered something. Now I know all the deets about Mont Blanc.’
‘Whatever.’ Imogen dismissed the sarcasm.
‘What else…?’ she continued, nonplussed. ‘Chamonix is north of Mont Blanc. It’s one of the oldest ski resort towns in France. You probably came via the Route Blanche, which is the ‘white route,’ so-called because of the snow that usually covers it. The cable car you can see in the distance is one of the highest in the world and it was built in the 1920s and re-built in the 1950s. I can name all five ski resorts in the area too,’ Imogen added. ‘If you want me to.’
‘No thank you,’ Lily said, carefully stepping around a small pile of snow that had been scraped to the side. It looked like a pile of whipped cream. No, ice cream. All that was missing was the cone. ‘OK, OK, I’m impressed, Ims. You know your
stuff about the area. Kind of.’
Imogen pointed to a tall hotel with a slanted blue roof on the edge of town. ‘That’s where we’re headed. We’re nearly there, actually. It’s not as far as it looks.’
‘Good,’ Lily puffed. God. She’d thought she was fit, as well. God knows if she’d be able to cope with skiing down a high mountain. She felt an internal tremor shudder through her. She still wasn’t sure about the skiing lark. She was here for work, to be a sports masseuse. And to forget about Jamie.
‘So what was all that about, Jamie coming over last night?’ Imogen asked.
Lily sighed and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. ‘I have no idea! He was rambling on about not realising I had those feelings for him and all that, but I don’t know where he was going with it.’
Imogen let out a sound rather like a snort. ‘Sounds like he’s realised he picked the wrong sister, if you ask me!’
‘What?’ Lily shook her head and inhaled delicious, cheesy aromas drifting from a nearby restaurant. Fondues and raclette – that distinctive, creamy, salty cheese often melted in little individual grill pans. ‘Ooh, we must have a fondue. You’ve got that wrong about Jamie, Ims. I think it’s just that he wants the same friendship we had before, calling me at all hours of the day and night, but he wants to be with Ivy too.’
‘Well, that’s all kinds of wrong,’ Imogen stated, throwing an unimpressed glance over her shoulder. ‘I really like Jamie, but he can’t expect to be phoning you at midnight anymore. And why does he want to? He should be speaking to Ivy about whatever he speaks to you about. I wouldn’t put up with that if he was my boyfriend.’
Lily shrugged. She could see Imogen’s point, but regardless, she needed to put Jamie behind her, at least for the next few months. He and Ivy deserved the best chance for their relationship to take off. Even if the mere thought of it made Lily feel heartbroken, sick and angry all at once. God, it was all so confusing. Lily wanted to be happy for them, and on some level she was, but jealousy… or was it more like envy? Yes, envy was consuming her and making it hard for her to be magnanimous.
Christmas in Chamonix Page 5