Christmas at the Beach Hut

by Veronica Henry

  Amanda looked away. Lizzy could almost see her brain ticking over, looking for a new angle.

  When she looked back, there were tears swimming in her eyes.

  ‘This is my chance to get it right,’ she said. ‘I thought marriage was for ever when I married first time around. It turned out that my husband had other ideas …’

  ‘Oh,’ said Lizzy, not entirely convinced by Amanda’s performance.

  ‘It’s pretty awful,’ said Amanda, ‘when you find out the father of your two children has been cheating on you.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ murmured Lizzy, even though she couldn’t help feeling Amanda was laying it on a bit thick to get what she wanted.

  ‘Luckily Fabio is very strong. Very moral.’

  Very rich, thought Lizzy, who had seen his penis extension of a car.

  ‘That’s why I want everything to be perfect,’ Amanda reiterated.

  ‘I understand,’ said Lizzy. ‘Everything will be perfect. I’ll make sure of that. But the price is the price.’

  Two days later the manager of Craven Court called Lizzy into his office.

  ‘Amanda Kingham says she offered you her wedding photographs and you turned them down?’

  ‘I didn’t think it was appropriate.’

  ‘Of course it’s appropriate. The two of them met here. We’ll get great coverage. Give her fifty per cent off whatever she wants. We can’t let this opportunity slip through our fingers.’

  Lizzy didn’t think she had ever been so angry. She felt manipulated and outmanoeuvred and humiliated. Amanda had gone over her head and the manager had pulled rank.

  ‘No problem,’ she said, her fingers tightening round her pen. Was a Bic ballpoint an offensive weapon?

  Why everybody was in thrall to Amanda and Fabio she couldn’t fathom. They were hardly Posh and Becks. Lizzy demurred graciously and resolved to make the wedding as fabulous as she possibly could. She knew Amanda would be poised ready to catch her out and pull her up on anything that wasn’t exactly to her liking. So she went above and beyond the call of duty, sourcing the most dew-drenched and lusciously scented flowers, ordering the most spectacular cake (three foot of hand-carved chocolate), devising an unforgettable menu with the chef and quite literally rolling out the red carpet for the happy pair to walk down on their arrival from the registry office.

  If Amanda wanted to be splashed all over the local papers, Lizzy was going to make sure Craven Court was the star.

  Everything was set fair on Amanda’s wedding day. It was April at her most inviting; soft and gently warm. Lizzy stood in the centre of the marquee that the hotel put up for larger weddings and drank it all in. Everything was a symphony of cream and deep red, the colour of Fabio’s team. There were scarlet satin bows on the backs of the gold chairs, crimson roses wrapped in ivy trailing over the tables and an arch of red balloons in the shape of a heart for them to walk through on arrival. None of it was to Lizzy’s taste but she had to admit it looked pretty stunning. Amanda would be delighted.

  She frowned as she tweaked the snow-white linen tablecloth on the top table. Why was it that she wanted to please Amanda when she couldn’t bear her? Was it fear or was it to prove a point? It really was most extraordinary, how she got everyone to do her bidding. Even her ex-husband was coming to the wedding. Lizzy was baffled by this until she realised he was going to be unpaid childcare.

  ‘Simon’s going to look after the children,’ Amanda told her. ‘It’s very important for me that Mo and Lexi are there, and for Fabio of course. As of today he’ll be their father too. But obviously I can’t look after them.’ She flashed a smile and Lizzy saw that her teeth were several shades whiter than they had been at their last meeting. ‘And Simon and I are totally amicable for the children’s sake, so it seemed to make sense. I didn’t want to have to leave them with a nanny on such an emotional day.’

  Or pay for one, thought Lizzy shrewdly.

  Lizzy was expecting Amanda’s first husband to be a smooth operator, a little bit flashy. She certainly wasn’t expecting to like him. But she warmed to him at first sight when he turned up at the reception in a very well-cut grey suit, a child in each hand. He wasn’t classically handsome, but had dark brown hair swept back from his forehead, kind brown eyes and a smile that would make you drop what you were doing to help him. She wouldn’t have put him and Amanda together at all: he was far too charming and polite, and Lizzy had expected someone brash. No doubt he’d had something that Amanda wanted at the time. Stability, perhaps?

  Today, he wore a slightly exhausted, put-upon expression that he tried to disguise. He was clearly finding the wedding torture: having to explain his presence to surprised mutual friends and be introduced to Amanda’s new social circle while keeping the two little ones under control. Mo and Lexi were the only children invited, two-year-old Mo dressed up in a little suit and four-year-old Lexi in a white lace dress that was a copy of her mother’s. Everyone ooh-ed and aah-ed over them, and Amanda posed for endless photos before shooing them back to Simon.

  Lizzy made a point of making sure he was all right.

  ‘Just order anything you want from the bar for them. And if it gets too noisy there’s the hotel lounge – there’s a big television and lots of board games in the cupboard.’

  Simon gave a wintry smile of thanks.

  ‘They should be fine. They’re good kids. I’ve only got to stay here until eight.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘At least, those are my instructions.’

  Lizzy put a hand on his shoulder. ‘It must be hard for you.’

  Simon didn’t answer for a moment. ‘As long as she’s happy,’ he said. ‘When Amanda’s happy, everyone’s happy.’

  And it seemed as if Amanda was happy. She posed in front of the balloon arch with Fabio and all his teammates while the photographer popped his bulbs in a frenzy of excitement. Dinner was seamless, the bride and groom cut the cake and then joined each other on the dance floor for the first dance, ‘How Deep is your Love?’

  How deep are your pockets, more like, thought Lizzy, and felt a momentary twinge of sympathy for Fabio, who was gazing into his bride’s eyes, totally under her spell.

  ‘I’m off now,’ said the photographer. ‘I’ve got the money shots. I’m going to get back to the darkroom and get them to the papers as quickly as I can.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Lizzy.

  Later, she watched Simon on the dance floor, carrying Mo and holding Lexi’s hand while they jiggled along to ‘Dancing Queen’. Amanda was on the other side of the dance floor, arms high, slinking and shimmying with her bridesmaid cohorts while Fabio stood on the sidelines nursing a glass of champagne and eyeing his new wife with Italianate jealousy.

  Lizzy thought how brave Simon was, and how wonderful of him to have the grace to put his children first when he could so easily have refused to play ball. He was being so gallant looking after them both. Little Mo had obviously had enough, his head drooping onto Simon’s shoulder. What a lovely father he was—

  Suddenly Mo’s head snapped up. He arched his back, opened his mouth and vomited out a stream of purple liquid all over Simon’s shirt and jacket. Simon froze in horror, clasping Mo as tightly to him as he could to avoid the sick getting everywhere.

  Lizzy ran straight over. She could see, out of the corner of her eye, someone pointing out the drama to Amanda, who shrugged and melted away from the dance floor before anyone got any bright ideas about including her in a rescue mission.

  ‘Oh my goodness, you poor thing,’ Lizzy said to Simon. ‘And poor Mo. Poor little boy.’

  Mo, by now, was crying. Simon looked utterly shell-shocked.

  ‘I’m so sorry. It’s so hot in here – he gulped down one of those drinks a bit too quickly. I hope it’s not all over the floor …’

  ‘Only a tiny bit. Don’t worry about the floor. We can get that cleaned up.’ Lizzy signalled over to
the bar staff to come and deal with it. ‘Come with me,’ she said to Simon, holding out her hand to Lexi, who was staring up at everyone with wide eyes. ‘Come on, Lexi. Let’s go and see if we can find a room, eh?’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Simon again, mortified.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Lizzy.

  She led him to a spare bedroom she had put aside for any guests who decided they might like to stay over at the last minute. Simon strode beside her along the softly carpeted corridor.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough. This is a complete nightmare. Luckily I brought some spare clothes for the kids …’

  Simon managed an anguished smile over the top of Mo’s head as she put her pass key into the lock and opened the door to let them inside. It was a small double bedroom with an en suite, all done out in the hotel’s signature chintz, with lots of frills and flounces and cushions. Lexi bounced onto the bed with glee.

  ‘Lexi – don’t jump. This isn’t our room,’ her father told her, looking panic-stricken.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said Lizzy. ‘She probably needs to let off some steam. They’ve both been so good.’

  ‘Apart from the projectile vomiting.’

  ‘It wasn’t his fault, poor lamb.’ Lizzy smiled at Mo, who was snuggled into Simon’s shoulder, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. He had his father’s long eyelashes, noted Lizzy. ‘Come into the bathroom. If you strip Mo off and give him a quick blast in the shower then you can get cleaned up while I look after him and Lexi.’

  ‘You’re an angel.’

  ‘It has been said.’ Lizzy grinned.

  ‘I’ve got clean clothes for the kids in this bag.’ Simon indicated a holdall he was carrying on his other arm. ‘But I’m not sure what I’m going to wear. I think my trousers have escaped but no way can I put my shirt or jacket back on.’ He looked down at his stained clothes and made a face.

  ‘I’ll go and look in lost property for you. We get lots of things left behind. If you don’t mind wearing a stranger’s shirt?’

  ‘It’s better than a shirt drenched in Fruit Shoot vomit.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘We send the clothes to the laundry so they’ll be clean.’

  ‘You’re an absolute star.’

  He looked at her with gratitude in his eyes, but also something else Lizzy couldn’t identify. Whatever it was, it made her blush. She grabbed the remote control from the bedside table.

  ‘Come on, Lexi,’ she said, feeling a bit flustered. ‘Let’s see if we can find the children’s channel.’

  She turned the television on and started to flip through the stations. Simon headed for the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and Lizzy gulped.

  Oh God, she thought. He’s absolutely bloody lovely.

  For a moment she wished she wasn’t looking so buttoned up in her dull hotel uniform, with its flared navy knee-length skirt and boxy jacket that managed to disguise any hint of femininity. But then she reminded herself he wouldn’t be interested in her. He’d been married to Amanda – he obviously went for high maintenance and glamour. Lizzy’s curly hair was tied back in a scrunchie and the make-up she had put on first thing this morning had long worn off. She was too busy keeping the wedding guests happy to touch up her lip gloss.

  Five minutes later Simon posted a pink and clean Mo out of the bathroom door wrapped in a white towel. Lizzy scooped him up and plonked him on the bed next to Lexi, then rummaged in the bag Simon had left on the floor for clean clothes.

  ‘Right, you two. Shall I get you some food?’

  ‘Chipth,’ said Mo.

  ‘Pizza,’ said Lexi.

  ‘I think we could get a pizza and chips here pretty quickly.’ Lizzy picked up the phone and called room service. Scooby Doo was blaring out but she could still hear the shower in the bathroom. She made herself go a bit pink thinking about Simon standing in it.

  Ten minutes later he came out, dressed in one of the white towelling dressing gowns the hotel supplied. It was a little small for him, stretching over his broad shoulders and only just done up.

  ‘I’ve ordered pizza,’ squeaked Lizzy, noticing his shapely calves. ‘If you hang on here I’ll go and see what clothes I can lay my hands on for you.’

  When she came back he was lying on the bed in between Lexi and Mo, watching Scooby Doo. She arrived at the same time as the food.

  She handed him a pair of jeans, a checked shirt and a sweater.

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Thank you so, so much.’

  He really was pathetically grateful, as if he was unused to people being kind or helpful.

  She laughed.

  ‘It’s not a problem at all. Nip into the bathroom and get dressed and I’ll look after these two.’

  As the bathroom door closed, she sat down in between Mo and Lexi.

  ‘It must be nearly your bedtime,’ she said to Lexi.

  Lexi shook her head. ‘We’re staying till the end.’

  ‘I don’t think so, surely? It’ll be midnight before it ends.’

  Lexi considered this.

  ‘What does midnight look like?’

  Lizzy thought about it. ‘Well, it can be very dark. But it’s quite special. You know the story of Cinderella? When the clock struck midnight, she had to leave the ball?’

  Lexi nodded. ‘She lost her shoe.’

  ‘She did. But she found her shoe eventually. And her prince.’

  Shoes and princes, thought Lizzy. That pretty much summed up her job. People finding the man or woman of their dreams. Then spending as much money as they could in one day to celebrate the fact. It was ironic that she spent her life making people’s dreams come true, yet she had no prince of her own. She was too busy. Too … unsure of what she wanted. And if she was honest, still not over Tom—

  The bathroom door opened. Simon stood in the doorway, looking even more attractive now he was in casual clothes.

  ‘I’m not sure about the blue …’ He grinned, holding his arms out for inspection as if he had just come out of a changing room.

  ‘I think it suits you.’ Lizzy genuinely did.

  ‘Listen, I better get these two home. It’s way past their bedtime. I should have taken them at six but Amanda wanted them to stay for the cake and the first dance.’

  ‘Do you need a cab?’

  ‘No – I’m fine to drive. I made a decision not to drink today. Self-preservation.’ He made a face. ‘Drink always makes you feel vulnerable, don’t you think?’

  Lizzy wasn’t really a big drinker. She started talking nonsense after one glass then fell asleep after two. But she knew she was unusual. ‘It must have been a strain for you.’

  He shrugged. ‘Yeah, well. It was my own fault.’

  Lizzy frowned. ‘Was it?’

  Simon’s eyes flickered over to the children, who were paying him no attention whatsoever, mesmerised by Scooby Doo.

  ‘I … um … got a bit distracted by someone else when I was married to Amanda. There wasn’t anything really going on but …’ He shrugged. ‘Amanda didn’t take very kindly to me taking another woman out for dinner. She found the receipt. It’s the most expensive pizza I’ve ever eaten.’

  ‘Oh.’ Lizzy was surprised by his confession. Amanda had been telling the truth after all. Although she had implied more than just a pizza had been shared.

  There was a bit of an awkward pause. For a moment Simon looked as if he wished he hadn’t said anything. He pulled the sleeves of his jumper down nervously, then looked at her.

  ‘I wanted you to know that,’ said Simon. ‘In case you thought I was some sort of saint.’

  Lizzy privately thought that anyone who could put up with Amanda for any length of time was definitely a saint, but it wasn’t her place to comment when Amanda was paying the bill.

  ‘Nobody’s a saint, are they?�
�� she managed finally. ‘We all make mistakes.’

  Simon nodded. ‘Mine cost me my marriage. And I can’t forgive myself, because of the children. I broke up the family.’

  He looked desolate.

  ‘She could have forgiven you. Taking someone out for a pizza doesn’t sound like such a huge crime.’

  Simon’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Amanda – forgive?’ He laughed a hollow laugh. ‘Now that is an interesting concept. Let’s not talk about it any more. It depresses me.’

  Was he still in love with Amanda, Lizzy wondered? Was that the root of his regret?

  He held out his hand for her to shake. ‘Listen – I owe you big time. Thank you. I’ll get the clothes back to you.’

  Lizzy took his hand. It was warm and dry and her hand felt just right in his clasp. ‘Don’t worry about the clothes – they’ve been in lost property for weeks.’

  ‘You’ve been really kind.’

  He still didn’t let go of her. They looked at each other. Lizzy gulped. What she was feeling was not very professional. By the look on Simon’s face, he was feeling something too. But she needed to get back to the wedding party. She’d been away long enough. It would be just her luck for something to have gone wrong and for Amanda to be on the warpath.

  She drew her hand out of his. If they held on to each other any longer it would be odd.

  ‘It’s all part of the service,’ she managed with a shaky laugh. ‘I better go.’ She ruffled Mo and Lexi’s hair. ‘You be good for your daddy, you two.’

  They could barely tear their eyes from the telly. Simon laughed. ‘Don’t take it personally. Scooby Doo always wins.’

  ‘I’ll try not to,’ said Lizzy. She slipped out of the room and closed the door gently, then leaned against the wall in the corridor outside. Get a grip, Lizzy, she told herself. Simon was the sort of man who made every woman feel like the centre of the universe when his attention was on them, be they waitress or paramour. He had natural charm and warmth: she mustn’t mistake it for anything meaningful.

  She put her hands to her mouth and breathed in and out. Her heart was tripping over itself. What was the matter with her? She’d never felt like this before …