Five Ladies Go Skiing

by Karen Aldous

  ‘Look,’ he continued softly. ‘I’ve never asked anyone since … well, since my wife Cheryl died.’ I saw pain in his eyes as I studied him. ‘I feel you should know that. And your loss is more recent, so I will understand.’

  ‘A year,’ I said fanning myself with my hand. I didn’t really know what was considered recent in terms of dating. I hadn’t thought about it.

  ‘I would hate to make you feel uncomfortable, so please don’t feel you have to answer me now. Maybe you are like me and need some adjusting. Time, I mean. Don’t rush. You can let me know in the morning.’

  I drew a breath, the girls’ words ringing in my ears. ‘No. I mean, yes. Why not?’ I told Neil. Go have fun, Angie and Lou had said. ‘I think I’d like that,’ I added, surprising myself but knowing we couldn’t go far. The girls would be close. ‘Thank you, I’d like to come out with you.’ My tongue felt like it was tying itself in knots. ‘I’m sure the girls won’t mind as long as I tell them where I’m going. Will we go far?’

  Neil sat back and squeezed my fingers, relief washing over his face. ‘Well, I’m chuffed. Thank you. I feel honoured that you’ve agreed. I had Ma Maison in mind – a smaller restaurant just along the road. It would be perfect. It’s quieter and the food is delicious.’

  The excitement in his eyes was enchanting and his expression considerably more relaxed. If he’d waited all this evening just for a refusal, I was syre sure he would have been equally charming. Whether he was telling the truth about not asking anyone since his wife passed wasn’t terribly important. Over the few days I’d known him, he had been the perfect gentleman. There was no reason in my mind to doubt him. Besides, as Angie pointed out, I was a free woman, and on holiday. Near enough to the chalet to get home too, if I became uncomfortable. Mike was never coming back. Why shouldn’t I have a little flutter, live a bit again?

  I scooped my hand through the top of my hair. ‘Sounds perfect. So, shall we say tomorrow?’

  ‘I couldn’t be happier. Tomorrow night it is,’ he said, tapping his thighs with his palms. ‘I’ll book now and come along to your chalet at seven tomorrow if that’s OK?’

  ‘Lovely, Neil. I’ll looking forward to it.’

  ‘Me too,’ he said looking pleased, and considerably less nervous. He drew his hands up from his legs clasping the bottom of his jacket. ‘Right, I’m off to meet the guys at the Trappeurs for dinner. We might walk back up later; if not, I’ll probably see you in the morning.’

  I smiled back at those iridescent eyes surrounded by creases. As we glanced at the girls, they all cheered and clapped.

  ‘Yay, go you two,’ Angie roared, her eyes sharp.

  ‘Woo, woo!’ Lou cheered rolling her fist.

  Kim leaned forward raising her right hand at me and instinctively, I raised mine. We smacked them together. ‘High five, Ginny our blossoming Flower,’ she boomed then smacked Neil’s hand. ‘High five, Neil,’ she hailed.

  He blushed. ‘Thank you, ladies. Being so engrossed, it didn’t occur to me you were all in earshot.

  Cathy swirled her hair where her bob met her ear. ‘Yes, we heard; well, the end of your conversation, and what a wonderful end to a perfect day. Nothing like a bit of romance to provide a happy ending. I think I could use some of this material for my novel. And Anthony will be so delighted for you. I can’t wait to tell him.’

  ‘Oh sweetheart, we haven’t started yet!’ Lou snorted. ‘Let the Champagne flow. This is special, Gin. Terry will be pleased for you too. My shout.’

  ‘See you tomorrow, ladies.’ Neil made his exit as we continued with our celebrations. Inside, I was still stunned, nervously shaking at my spontaneous decision, aware that, had he asked me the same question a day or two ago, I would never have consented. Maybe I was getting carried away in the moment, but it was done. I was going on a date.

  Lucien, the waiter, brought out our first course. A mouth-watering light salad with a mustard dressing and a plated selection of charcuterie. Lou ordered another bottle of fizz as the conversation naturally led to Neil.

  ‘So, where is Prince Charming carrying you off to tomorrow?’ Angie asked, wiggling her eyebrows up and down seductively. She did look the image of Tina Turner tonight with her curls let wildly loose.

  ‘The restaurant’s a short walk that way.’ I pointed. ‘Ma Maison, it’s called.’

  ‘I know it. Fabulous. You’ll love it. It’s very Swiss,’ Angie cheered.

  Lou hugged herself. ‘Ooh, sounds very romantic.’

  ‘He’s such a sweetie,’ Kim said. ‘You seem to get on really well.’

  Licking my lips, I admitted, ‘I’m so nervous. I know he’s really easy to talk to and talking to him is like talking to an old friend, but now we’re going on a proper date, I’m quite scared.’

  ‘Aw, hon. Try not to overthink it,’ Kim said, her slight Aussie drawl getting stronger with alcohol. ‘It’s going to be no different than talking to him here. It’s not like you’re going on a date with a total stranger. He’s a lovely guy, and it must be quite exciting. You like him, right?’

  I blushed, pinching the nobble of my nose. ‘No disrespect to Mike, but I do. Not that I’m thinking anything more than holiday romance here, and even then—’ I looked around me and whispered ‘—I don’t think I could … you know?’

  ‘Shag, darling, the word is shag,’ Angie blared bluntly rolling up her sleeves. ‘Clearly I know because that’s all I’ve wanted to do since we’ve been here. I say go for it!’

  I screwed up my nose. ‘I couldn’t.’ I was so not ready for sex. ‘Baby steps, I think.’

  Kim agreed. ‘Absolutely, go with the flow.’

  Our next course arrived. It was a small dish of pasta ravioli drizzled in oil and sprinkled with fresh herbs.

  ‘This is delicious,’ Lou said swirling it around her mouth.

  ‘Mm, very,’ I agreed with my mouth full.

  Cathy finished a mouthful, pointing her fork in the air. ‘If you really like him, why not—’ she lowered her voice ‘—shag him?’

  I shook my head. ‘One, I don’t feel ready and two, I don’t want to get myself in too deep. What happens if I really fall for him? Or possibly worse, hate myself for doing it and regret it for the rest of my life.’

  ‘Oh, Jeez. Opportunity knocks, and she shuts the ’effin door!’ Angie sprawled her arms on the table, almost knocking over the ice bucket. ‘It’s a bit of fun. No one is going to get hurt. You’re a grown woman. A widow. No sex for God knows how long. Let yourself go, sweetie.’

  I furrowed my brows. ‘Any more Champagne anyone?’ I asked, grabbing the bottle and topping up. However hard I tried I couldn’t separate the old Ginny from the new. I was still Ginny Watts – wife and mother living in our family home in Camfield Bottom. Who was the single Ginny?

  Next in front of us, Lucien placed a tiny sorbet.

  ‘I happen to agree,’ said Kim. ‘Take it for what it is – a bit of fun.’

  ‘But, from what he says, he hasn’t been … or rather he says he hasn’t asked anyone out since he lost his wife. He may not even want to.’

  Angie winced and burst into laughter. ‘You make me laugh, Ginny. If he’s got a pair of bollocks, believe me, he wants it. All men want to do is fuck your brains out.’

  ‘Angie, don’t be so crude,’ Lou said crossly. ‘You’ll put Ginny off. Darling, don’t listen.’

  Instantly my humour sharpened. I was never square. We all burst into boisterous laughter.

  I was wiping the tears rolling down my face when Stefano appeared with another chilled bottle of Champagne and in his other hand a large ceramic dish of curried red cabbage, which he expertly placed down. Then, as he unleashed the next cork, Francesco the chef arrived with a delivery of a huge platter of large butter-fried steaks and crispy noisette potatoes, positioning it in the middle, whilst Lucien removed the cute little empty sorbet pots and replaced them with scorching plates.

  ‘Enjoy ladies,’ Stefan said, and Francesco nodded shyly before t
hey turned to go. It all looked so beautifully cooked. I saw Cathy glance at Ang.

  I picked up my knife and fork and dug my fork into the nearest steak realising there were five. Cathy and Angie were missing their pescatarian options. There was no way these girls would tuck into a steak.

  ‘Oh, Stefan does know, doesn’t he?’ I asked, feeling confident we had told him.

  ‘I’m sure he does,’ Cathy affirmed. ‘They’ll be here separately; they usually are.’

  I wasn’t so sure. ‘Lucien, can you check Stefan has two veggie options?’ I asked.

  Stefano appeared several minutes later with an iron pan sizzling with something alien to me.

  ‘I sorry. I fuck up, ladies,’ he said placing down the pan on the table. ‘Salmon for you ladies.’

  More giggles spouted from our mouths. ‘Ooh, salmon,’ I raved, recognising it among the beansprouts and quinoa. ‘Looks lovely, I wondered what that was.’

  The Champagne was beginning to make us giddy. Lou was pouring it down her throat like it was just about to go on rations.

  ‘Yummy. Looks amazing,’ Angie said as she and Cathy tucked in.

  ‘So, getting back to you and Neil. You go and do what’s right for you,’ Kim said. ‘We only want to see you happy and enjoying yourself.’

  ‘How old is he by the way?’ Lou slurred.

  ‘No idea,’ I said as I shrugged. ‘Can’t be much deviation from us. Possibly a bit younger.’

  ‘Fifty-seven, I asked him,’ Angie said chomping on her salmon. ‘He was only married for ten years before his wife died, but they’d been together about twenty-five. Apparently, Cheryl was a divorcee, and her husband wouldn’t divorce her or something. I’m sure he’ll fill you in on the details. He’ll definitely fill you in.’

  Cathy’s hand went to her mouth as they sniggered. I was beginning to tire of the jokes and smutty comments. They were wearing thin and I guessed I was becoming apprehensive.

  The finale arrived – a succulent mango cheesecake with a miniature pot of crème brûlée beside it. I felt we were being treated like royalty. The food and service exquisite, attentive, and I began to wonder if Neil’s plans for the following evening at Ma Maison could deliver food as fine.

  Resting our palates, we opted for our favourite red Gamay to finish. Then it was time for the pièce de résistance: Lou’s thoughts or, more precisely, what exactly had happened on Facebook. I was sure the others were as eager as I was to know about the previous contact with Jimmy, despite the fact that, even after meeting him for the first time tonight since their break-up, she seemed to have closed the chapter.

  I peered across to her, her cheeks glowing compared to earlier. ‘So, Lou, tell me to mind my own business, but I’m curious. What tempted you to respond when Jimmy first messaged you?’

  Lou licked her lips as she finished her mouthful of steak. ‘Mm, that’s so juicy. Oh, embarrassing but, yes, I’m sure you’re all gagging to know.’ Lou proffered a drunken laugh as Lucien poured more bubbles into her glass. ‘How shall I put this … just to excuse … no, that’s the wrong word, erm … let’s say admit I suppose. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say, because those bubbles have frothed my brain, but anyway, stupid as it sounds, I was keen to see Jimmy again.’ Her voice quickened. ‘I thought, just the once. You know me – act first, ask questions later.’

  ‘Yup. I thought I was crazy,’ Angie said.

  Lou’s face turned stern, as she rolled her eyes at Angie. ‘Oh, I’m not proud. God no. Far from it. I would never have hidden it if I wasn’t ashamed. And there aren’t many things I wouldn’t own up to. As you know.’ She hiccupped, and our sniggers must have infected her as she sniggered too. She hiccupped again, shaking her head with a giggle. ‘Anyway, to say I was surprised is an understatement when I heard from him after so long. And I wrote back admitting that I did regret my decision, and I put that I missed him terribly whilst I was in Spain. Hmm. Yes, it was the worst thing I could have told him, because it only encouraged him. He was going to come to Kent. Gosh, when I think how I could have ruined everything.’ She put down her knife. ‘Then, about two hours later, when I’d calmed down a bit, I wrote and told him no. I was wrong. That what I said was in the past. I was truly happy with Terry and wouldn’t betray him. Ever.’

  Cathy sighed. ‘Oh, darling.’

  ‘No, not oh, darling,’ Lou continued. ‘I was wrong. I’d been a bit pissed off with Terry at the time. When I say pissed off, I mean it was more like I was in a rut. You know when life is a bit humdrum and there are lots of pressures, work pressures. Terry was on the site a lot when we were building at Rye, annoying me with this and that, getting tetchy when I kept on at him about the snagging. Said he had to now prioritise the new site, Rye could wait. I was livid. Clients want their new home finished, looking perfect; they don’t want to wait. And, in my head was: there’s not going to be a next site for me. I’ve had enough. The thought of the next thirty years or so with Terry wasn’t thrilling.’ Lou waved a drunken hand. ‘You know what I mean. Anyway, Jimmy appeared, I had said it, rather admitted it, even wrote saying how pissed off I was,’ she hiccupped, ‘so when I messaged him back again, of course he wasn’t going to accept that. I’d fed him the bait.’

  I cupped the side of my neck as I leaned forward. ‘We all have those shit moments, off days, weeks. Jimmy obviously caught you on a low.’

  ‘Yes, he was probably a tonic and sounded exciting,’ Angie agreed.

  Lou scratched the back of her neck. ‘Oh, he did, believe me. But then I couldn’t get rid of him. I got piles of messages, promising me the earth, offering me anything I wanted if I left Terry. He would look after me, he said. He has a house in southern Spain he said we could live in, but I could choose anywhere I wished to be. He could buy me anything my heart desired. He has his own jet! I could shop in any city, anytime.’

  ‘Urgh, slime bucket,’ Angie slurred, feigning sticking her fingers down her throat. ‘Why would you want a jet when Terry has a very nice van?’

  Our laughter roared through the room.

  Lou looked at Angie with tears streaming down her face. ‘My thoughts exactly. Ha ha! Do you remember that advert years ago, some soap I think it was, where that couple are in a bath in their luxury plane, looking out of the window and she says, “Bermuda looks nice, darling,” and the plane takes an immediate dive towards it?’

  ‘Yes! I remember. Wowzer, what are you missing, Lou?’ Kim said wide-eyed as we glared back at her. ‘Was it Imperial Leather?’

  Lou shrugged. ‘Something like that, I don’t remember but sounds about right – I don’t think I realised what a slippery character Jimmy was.’

  Cathy sniggered. ‘Maybe that’s why his wife left him – she got bored of splashing into resorts, naked.’

  Again, we laughed, the infectious giggling probably irritating other diners. I couldn’t help but think of Mike and what state of mind he was in to deceive me. But I had to stop. I’ve moved on, I told myself.

  Lou composed herself, wriggling into the back of her chair. ‘I’ve never told Terry. But now you know, I hope we can keep it between us. I’m just so glad I saw sense.’

  Kim cleared her throat, wiping her eyes. ‘Of course, Lou. That’s what friends do. And, what is clear is your instinct. You knew in your heart what you wanted. That was key. But, don’t think you’re alone in getting frustrated with Terry. Will irritates me no end at times.’

  ‘Goodness me, if I had a penny for each time Anthony annoyed me, I’d give Bill Gates a run for his money. I thought it was just Anthony. It’s quite a relief to hear you’ve got grumpy old men too.’

  Listening to the girls, I totally empathised. However much I loved Mike, he could still drive me to despair. We regularly came to loggerheads because he would finish his day before me. He was often home by four and it made me cross when he couldn’t take ten minutes of his time even to run the vacuum cleaner round or peel the vegetables for dinner. Men didn’t seem to have that initiative around t
he house. Mike never spotted anything out of place or anything that needed picking up from the floor or taking upstairs. It was no wonder we women nagged. They needed constant reminding. I could understand that frustration Lou was feeling. I wondered now if Mike felt it about me. What is it we women don’t see?

  ‘Lou. Don’t beat yourself up; you bravely told him straight tonight. No messing, no flustering, no flapping,’ I added.

  ‘Oh, absolutely,’ Lou agreed ruffling her collar. ‘It was a fleeting moment of flattery, I think. No, I’m certain of that now.’ She smiled. ‘I was stupid to encourage him. Well, it’s been quite a week for confessions, hasn’t it? Anyone else got any?’

  Still curious about what she had actually said to him, I stretched my legs, stating my claim: ‘I’ve told you mine, Flowers. It was such a release, too. And these revelations are providing some great entertainment, don’t you think?’

  ‘They are,’ Lou said.

  ‘Hmm.’ Angie grimaced, half amused, staring distractedly into space. ‘I’m definitely fired up,’ she claimed, lacking conviction. She may have followed my thoughts but I got the impression her energy was waning, her bodily temple protesting at the toxicity of the alcohol.

  ‘Oh, we’ll be keeping an eye on you, sweetheart,’ Lou said curling her tongue in her cheek. ‘And, believe me, you’d have only regretted it.’

  We chuckled, nodding in agreement.

  Angie narrowed her eyes accusingly. ‘I still don’t know how I’m managing to contain myself. That man is so horny, but I’m trying my best. I’ll convert that lust to lustre for change. I’ve so much buzzing in my head now that it’s imploding.’

  ‘That must be all our fitness programmes and diets you’re organising,’ I said.

  ‘So much to do and think about. But that’s a project for when we’re home. I’ve half a week yet! I’ll just have to steer clear of Christoff.’

  ‘Well, in the meantime, borrow Cath’s vibrator – just make sure you clean it after.’ Lou thrust her finger at Cathy.