Christmas in Chamonix

by Christmas in Chamonix (retail) (epub)

  ‘Lily? Can you hear me?’

  With difficulty, Lily turned her head to the side and saw Imogen sitting on the bed, staring at her worriedly. She had tears in her eyes and looked as though she’d been sitting there for ages; her black hair was in disarray and there were sooty lines of eyeliner streaking her cheeks.

  ‘Where am I?’

  ‘You’re in your bed. In the hotel room. Boutique Hotel Devereux,’ Imogen added, clutching Lily’s hand.

  ‘I know the name of the hotel, Ims.’ Lily tried to sit up but couldn’t. She wanted to say something about the fact that they all kept saying ‘Boutique’ in front of the Hotel Devereux bit, but she couldn’t seem to form the words properly.

  ‘We thought you had a concussion,’ Imogen said tearfully. ‘You’ve been into hospital and brought back again after lots of tests. And since then, you’ve been asleep and I’ve been so scared, but they told me it was fine and not to worry…’

  She started to cry again, rubbing at her face like a child. It reminded Lily of how Imogen used to look when she got royally pissed and they’d stumble out of nightclubs together when they were younger. She was always crying wretchedly over some man and looking wrecked afterwards.

  Lily touched her head gingerly. There was a large bandage that had tape all around it and she could feel a lump like an egg underneath it.

  ‘Wowzers. That’s a big bump. Do I have bruises?’

  Imogen let out a distressed squeak. ‘Oh, Lils. I don’t even want to show you.’

  Lily felt alarmed. What did Imogen mean? ‘Get me a mirror. Please,’ she asked, feeling anxious.

  Imogen looked upset, but she grabbed her make-up bag and took out a compact. ‘Brace yourself,’ she said, wincing as she handed the mirror over.

  Lily swallowed and opened the compact. Holding it to her face, she gasped. She had two black eyes. Great, big circles of black around her eyes like a panda. But definitely nowhere near as cute as a panda.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ she said, wanting to cry.

  ‘I know,’ Imogen nodded. ‘But I have make-up. Really good make-up. The kind that covers up tattoos, remember? The way I cover my arm up when I go and see my mum?’

  Lily smiled, but even that hurt. ‘Wow. I don’t even know if your tattoo make-up will cover this up. I look ridiculous. And I am in so much pain.’

  ‘Poor Ollie is so upset,’ Imogen told her. ‘He brought those for you this morning.’ She pointed to a large bouquet of pink and white flowers displayed in a vase. ‘He’s been beside himself.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Lily said, struggling to sit up but managing it with Imogen’s help. ‘It’s not his fault. I shouldn’t have gone down that blue run. Luc said not to. But I just wanted to do it, you know? I wanted to see if I could overcome my fear.’

  Imogen pushed her hair out of her face. ‘It was terrifying, Lils. I was so scared you were going to break your neck.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Lily said ruefully.

  ‘Everyone has been into see you, even the Devereuxs.’

  ‘Not Luc, I hope?’ For some strange reason, Lily felt mortified at the thought of Luc seeing her like this.

  ‘Not Luc, no, but he has asked after you several times and those flowers are from him.’ Imogen pointed to a vase of beautiful yellow roses.

  Lily broke into a smile, then made her face sober again when she realised Imogen was watching her with great interest. ‘What? I like roses.’

  About to say something, Imogen was distracted by Lily’s phone ringing. ‘It’s your mum,’ she said, handing it over. ‘Celine phoned them about your accident.’

  ‘Lordy.’ Lily answered the phone. ‘Hey.’

  ‘Lily!’ Sue sounded distraught. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘We’ve been so worried about you! So worried about you!’ Dave called out.

  ‘I’m all right,’ Lily assured them. ‘I look like I’ve been boxing and I think I hate skiing, but I’m OK.’

  ‘Lily, what happened?’ It was Ivy. She sounded calm and in control, but Ivy could appear as cool as a cucumber even when she was in the throes of a panic attack.

  Lily gave them a quick rundown of her accident. ‘And then I don’t remember anything after that,’ she finished. ‘I think I passed out.’

  ‘She had a mild concussion,’ Imogen explained, taking the phone, ‘but she’s recovering well.’ She prudently didn’t mention Lily’s bruises.

  ‘Was someone with you? Like, an instructor?’

  Lily caught Imogen’s eye. It was Jamie’s voice.

  ‘Not an instructor, no. Imogen’s friend Ollie was teaching me.’

  ‘What kind of run were you on?’ Jamie sounded frantic.

  Lily wasn’t sure why he sounded so freaked out. ‘A blue.’

  ‘A blue?’ Jamie was practically shrieking now. ‘You shouldn’t be on a blue this early on! What was this Ollie thinking? No wonder you had a tumble! Blues can have moguls and jumps and oh my GOD. That’s absurd!’

  ‘Calm down, Jamie!’ Ivy sounded cross. ‘It’s done now. It’s not Lily’s fault. She’s new to all this.’

  Sue interrupted. ‘Darling, do you want to come home? I could look after you here. Dave could come and collect you.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ Dave called out.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Lily said firmly. ‘I don’t need to come home. I’ll need to rest up a bit and then I just want to get back to work.’

  ‘And no more skiing without an instructor,’ Jamie cut in. ‘People who ski always think they can teach and they can’t and it’s so bloody dangerous.’

  ‘OK, Dad,’ Lily said, rolling her eyes at Imogen.

  ‘Sorry.’ Jamie went quiet. ‘I’m just worried about you. We all are. Maybe I should come and check the place out. I hate the thought of you having accidents.’

  ‘Jamie.’ It was Ivy. ‘Go over if you want to, but only to ski! Lily is a grown woman. She can take care of herself.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Lily agreed. ‘It’s all fine. I have an excellent instructor called Luc who will be teaching me from now on.’ Lily had no idea if she was ever setting foot on a mountain again, but she felt that she had to reassure everyone. ‘And Ollie is absolutely lovely; he just didn’t realise I had this terrible fear of heights.’

  ‘Let’s let her rest,’ Dave said. Even he sounded jolted and not his usual cheery self. ‘Lily needs rest.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Sue said, still sounding upset. ‘We all love you, Lily, and if you want to come home, we are here for you.’

  ‘Love you all. Bye,’ Lily said, ending the call. ‘Crikey. What a fuss.’

  ‘So Jamie sounded all cut up,’ Imogen commented, clearly intrigued. ‘I wonder how Ivy felt about that?’

  ‘No idea.’

  Lily didn’t want to think about Jamie. All she could think about was being up and about and covering up her awful bruises. But Lily felt a pang in her chest. She missed Jamie. She really, really missed Jamie. He was her friend, a close friend who had almost been a best friend. And not talking to him like they used to – almost on a daily basis – was excruciating. Hearing his voice like that had been heaven. But horrible too.

  Imogen gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I know. It’s shit. Especially since he obviously really cares about you. But you’re going to be all right. You’ll look like a panda for a while, but you’ll be all right.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Lily let out a weighty sigh. ‘I’ll be fine. Gotta stop mooning after him, haven’t I? That’s why I came here, after all.’

  ‘That and to head butt a ski shack,’ Imogen responded. ‘Well, at least you won’t have to be on breakfast duty for a while,’ she added innocently. ‘Not with a face like that.’

  ‘Every cloud,’ Lily said, feeling drowsy again. ‘God, I think I need to sleep again.’

  ‘Go to sleep. I’m not going anywhere,’ Imogen said, taking up her position on the bed again.

  And with that, Lily fell into another long, deep sleep.

  * * *
r />   A few days later, Lily was feeling much more with it. Her headache was gone, the lump on her head had gone down and she was moving about and feeling fairly normal. The only problem now was that the bruises on her face had gone from black to a rainbow of colours ranging from pale green to lemon and brown. And she was due downstairs for some Christmas cocktail party for the guests. She was wearing a cream jumper dress, with black tights and little black ankle boots – but it all clashed with her face. Or her face clashed with her outfit. One of the two.

  ‘Do not stress,’ Imogen said. ‘I am here with my make-up palette. Sit back and let me get your face back to its best.’ She got to work with brushes and sponges, blending away furiously, every so often taking a step back to assess her work.

  ‘There,’ she said, giving Lily’s face a final dab. ‘Check you out.’

  Lily looked in the mirror and her mouth fell open. She looked almost normal! Not completely normal, because it was noticeable that she had a fair amount of make-up on and she was normally fairly fresh-faced, but still. She had left her auburn hair loose in the hope it would cover her face, but she could definitely be seen in public.

  ‘It’s a miracle! Thank you.’

  ‘Least I can do,’ Imogen said, looking shame faced. ‘I’m still having nightmares about you hurtling down that mountain and so is Ollie.’

  Lily shook her head. ‘Stop. Let’s go. I need to get out of this hotel room. What’s a Christmas cocktail party anyway? A cocktail party with a Christmas theme or a party with Christmas cocktails?’

  ‘Good point! Not a clue. Let’s go.’

  They headed downstairs and Lily even enjoyed seeing different walls and views out of the window. She had been going stir-crazy shut away for days like that. Various staff members – even Elodie, who looked as though she might snigger at the state of Lily’s face – had taken it in turns to bring her food. She had dined on daube provençale (braised beef stew with vegetables, wine and garlic), baked salmon fillet with a mouth-watering salsa containing fresh herbs and a tangy vinaigrette, and a clam spaghetti drenched with garlic and chilli that had been to die for. But eating in bed had never been her thing and Lily couldn’t wait to get back to what had become her new normal.

  The hotel looked extremely Christmassy with all the decorations up and pretty snowflakes drifting past the vast windows on each floor. Even the air smelt Christmassy, like fir cones and gingerbread. Lily realised it was coming from the candles that had been placed around the hotel, their lights glowing warmly in dark corners.

  Downstairs in the reception area, guests and staff were milling around, holding cocktails and chatting. Christmas music played in the background. It was mostly English pop music – Wham’s Last Christmas and the like. Lily felt strange, even homesick for a moment, but maybe it was just that she missed Jamie.

  Celine, in ski clothes as always, was talking loudly and passionately about skiing and she smiled brightly at Lily when she caught sight of her. Elodie – and Luc, for that matter – were noticeably absent. Which probably meant something, but Lily didn’t care to think about it.

  Pierre came over immediately, looking like the Milk Tray man in an all-black outfit. His face was concerned, but as ever, there was a level of detachment in his expression. ‘Lily. You poor girl. I do hope you’re feeling better?’

  ‘Much better, thanks,’ she said, touching her face self-consciously.

  Marc, looking equally suave in a smart blue shirt and jeans, joined his father and gave Lily a funny little bow. ‘Sorry to hear of your accident. That particular blue run can be exceptionally fast when it’s icy.’

  A crestfallen Ollie rushed over to give her a hug. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, squeezing her. ‘I feel so awful. I should never have—’

  ‘It’s OK.’ Lily brushed his apology off with a smile, mostly because he looked so crushed and she didn’t want him to feel bad.

  ‘They’ve told me off,’ Ollie said, hanging his head in Pierre and Marc’s direction. ‘Apparently I did the classic move of taking a beginner up to a slope that was too high too soon.’

  Pierre nodded, throwing Ollie a stern glance. ‘Even without a fear of heights, it can destroy someone’s confidence. That’s often it for the beginner for the entire week of skiing.’

  Marc shook his head disparagingly and Lily immediately felt the need to defend Ollie. ‘It’s my fault, not his. I went down it and I shouldn’t have done. Lesson learnt.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Looking unimpressed, Pierre left them to it and started chatting to some nearby guests. Marc also took his leave.

  ‘So it’s a party with Christmas cocktails,’ Imogen informed Lily, pressing a glass into her hand. ‘This is a champagne cocktail with fraise de bois. That’s wild strawberry liqueur to you and me.’

  ‘Wow.’ Lily stared at the cocktail. It was served in a champagne flute, half with champagne and half with a pink-red liquid. Cranberries dipped in sugar, meant to look like snow, hung from the side of the glass. It looked exquisite. And it tasted divine.

  ‘Sylvan has his uses,’ Imogen agreed. She and Lily had always loved cocktails, even when they were young. Dave used to serve them snowballs when they were too young to drink, in cocktail glasses, with a maraschino cherry bobbing in the frothy yellow liquid. When he ran out of Advocaat, he would allow them a tiny drop of Babycham, the bubbles tickling their noses and making them giggle.

  ‘That’s delicious, Lils. There’s a winter spiced pear cocktail with star anise on top and a really alcoholic one with Aperol and chocolate bitters in it with orange rind on the side and a chocolate ball on top. A real chocolate ball!’

  ‘He’s a genius,’ Lily exclaimed. ‘Creating incredible food is one thing, but these are things of great beauty…’

  ‘You like?’ Sylvan suddenly appeared at Lily’s elbow.

  ‘Very much. They are so beautiful too. Really.’

  ‘Your face looks better,’ Sylvan said, getting rather too close.

  Lily took a discreet step backwards. ‘Er… don’t get too close. I look terrible under all this make-up.’

  ‘Not possible,’ Sylvan said gallantly. ‘I hope you will be ready to give me another massage soon?

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Lily said, adopting a professional tone.

  ‘Here, try one of these,’ Sylvan suggested, pressing a delectable-looking pastry into her hands. ‘It’s called a bouchée à la reine. It’s chicken and morel mushrooms in a white wine sauce.’

  It’s a vol-au-vent, Imogen mouthed behind Sylvan’s back, sniggering like a naughty schoolgirl.

  ‘It’s amazing,’ Lily commented, shoving Imogen discreetly. And it was. Regardless of it being a vol-au-vent, it was a fancy one, worthy of far more than being showcased in a hotel next to a ski resort. Stealing another glance at Sylvan, Lily frowned inwardly. No, she still didn’t fancy him. What a shame. Such a fantastic chef. And any man who could make cocktails like that…

  She looked up as Luc arrived, closely followed by Elodie. Lily felt a thud of disappointment, but she didn’t really know why. Luc was wearing a puffer brown jacket with a fur hood and slouchy jeans with boots and Elodie wore a similar puffer jacket in black with black jeans and a sleek, cream jumper with long silver chains around her neck.

  Luc came straight over. ‘Lily. How are you feeling? I’m so sorry I haven’t visited. Imogen wouldn’t allow me in the room.’

  Lily suppressed a smile. Good old Ims. She knew Lily wouldn’t have wanted Luc to visit her with all her horrible bruises.

  ‘That’s OK. Thank you for the roses.’

  ‘De rien,’ Luc waved a hand. ‘You are very welcome. How do you feel about skiing now?’

  ‘Terrified. Like, even more than I was before.’ Lily was grateful that Luc wasn’t saying ‘I told you so’ about her going down a blue run when she shouldn’t have done. ‘But oddly, I don’t want to give up on it.’

  ‘Good. Good for you.’ Luc rubbed his chin. ‘If you want to sort the hypnotherapy out, I’ll come with you.
If you want me to?’

  Lily found herself grinning at him. ‘That’s so nice of you. Yes, OK. I’m definitely willing to give it a go. If I can get my fear of heights under control, I hope I can learn to ski, even if it’s only on green runs.’

  ‘I’m confident we can get you beyond green runs,’ Luc told her.

  ‘I’ll owe you a free massage if you do,’ Lily said without thinking. Since when had she offered massages out as payment for anything?

  Luc’s dark eyes were fixed upon her and Lily felt herself squirming slightly. Was he laughing at her? If she didn’t know better, she might have thought he was smouldering at her. But surely not. Lily must be mistaken.

  ‘I may well take you up on that,’ he replied finally, not taking his eyes off hers. It was disconcerting and rather delicious at the same time.

  At that point, Elodie joined them and slipped her arm through Luc’s. ‘Aah Lily. I heard about your accident. Poor you. Your face looks really, really bad.’

  Lily wanted to laugh out loud. Elodie looked stunning tonight, but she was so bloody offensive.

  Luc frowned at Elodie. ‘Her face looks great. She skied into a shack, Elodie.’

  Elodie shrugged, pursing her beautiful mouth and tightening her grip on Luc’s arm. ‘Will you try to ski again?’ she asked Lily, managing to look completely disinterested.

  ‘Yes,’ Lily replied firmly. ‘Definitely.’

  And in fact, Elodie was spurring her on to do it – and to do it well. So maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that she was a bit of a bitch. She watched Luc and Elodie, trying to work out their body language. Elodie fancied Luc; that much was clear. What Lily couldn’t work out was whether or not Luc fancied Elodie. Equally, it wouldn’t surprise her if they were an item, because there was a relaxed closeness between them which could mean anything from deep friendship to something far more. Not that any of it mattered, of course. Lily was just intrigued.

  ‘Let’s sort out that hypnotherapy,’ Luc said to Lily as Elodie dragged him away. ‘We’ll catch up soon.’