‘I will. And I suppose I should say thanks for phoning. I appreciate that it probably wasn’t easy.’
‘Harder than you could know. What are your plans for the day? I could—’
‘No. If you’re thinking of saying we can meet up then I’m sorry but no. I appreciate the sentiment but it’s not going to help. Sorry.’
He was silent for a moment. Then: ‘How about Justin?’
‘Justin?’ Isla repeated.
‘He mentioned that you two had got on pretty well. I think he said he’d offered to take you out to see the chalet.’
‘Actually he didn’t, but he said you might.’
‘Do you want me to?’
‘It’s OK… I know you’re busy with the shop.’
‘Right,’ Ian replied, seeming to understand that what she was really saying was that she wasn’t ready for that yet. ‘Justin did tell me he’d be more than happy to take you over there…’
Isla raked her teeth over her bottom lip, deep in thought. Would it hurt to take a look? She had nothing else to do and it did make sense to her rational brain that she should see just what she’d be giving up. ‘You’re asking on his behalf? I don’t know, maybe he wants to phone me himself if he wants to go.’
Ian let out a sigh. ‘God, I know you don’t want to hear this from me, but you remind me so much of your mother – quick and clever and stubborn as hell.’
‘She taught me everything I know,’ Isla replied with a wry smile.
‘I could see it in you, even as a baby.’
‘Is that why you left us? Because you thought I might be hard work?’ The sentence was out before she’d meant it to be and immediately she wished she could take it back. He was trying, and she was giving him nothing. She just couldn’t help it.
‘It’s complicated—’ he began, but Isla cut across him.
‘Forget it; I don’t need to know and I shouldn’t have said it.’
‘I suppose I’ll have to expect that for a while,’ he said. ‘I understand it’s going to be hard for you and I don’t want to push things.’
‘I’ll be in town all day if Justin wants to get in touch,’ she said.
‘OK – I’ll tell him. Hopefully I’ll speak to you soon then.’
‘Yeah. Bye.’ She went to end the call and then another question occurred to her. ‘Ian…’ she added quickly.
‘Yes?’
‘The first night I arrived in St Martin, were you standing outside my hotel looking up at my window?’
‘Well, I…’ he began, but he sounded flustered, confused and guilty all at the same time.
‘I thought so,’ she said with a slight smile. ‘I just wanted to be sure. Bye, Ian. I’ll let you know what I decide.’
Whenever people told her that anxiety about something or other had stopped them from eating, Isla was mystified. Far from stopping her eating, any sort of anxiety or sour mood had her racing for the fridge to eat everything in there. Her mother had often expressed amazement that she wasn’t the size of Belgium, and Isla didn’t know whether to laugh or feel deeply insulted. So she had no problem tucking away the stack of fluffy pancakes Dahlia put in front of her at breakfast the next morning.
‘I’m going to miss these when I go home,’ she said as Dahlia hovered over her with coffee. ‘Can’t you come and live with me? The hotel will manage, won’t it?’
‘Maybe.’ Dahlia beamed, clearly enjoying the praise. ‘I’m expensive to hire, though.’
‘Worth every penny!’ Isla cut into another pancake and popped a large wedge into her mouth, just to show Dahlia how worth it she thought the money would be.
With a tinkling laugh, Dahlia went to serve at another table while Isla went back to her breakfast. Now that she’d had time to reflect on her conversation with Ian that morning she felt strangely positive about the whole thing. Perhaps it was the syrup-drenched pancakes or the excellent coffee, or perhaps it was just that she’d reached some sort of unconscious decision – as yet unknown even to her. But an unexpected sense of contentment had stolen over her.
It might have been helped by Sebastian’s absence too. She’d entered the breakfast room with some trepidation after the way they’d parted the evening before, knowing that she’d feel awkward about it and he probably would too. Not to mention the guilt she felt for getting it so wrong. But it looked as though he’d taken off on one of his early starts because there was no sign of him.
Her gaze went to the windows and above the hazy blue lines of the mountaintops she could see pockets of cloudless sky. It was probably freezing, but at least the weather was settled enough to go out. She just had to decide where it was she wanted to go. She made a note to pop down to reception after she’d had a post-breakfast freshen-up to take a look at the rack of visitor leaflets next to the desk and ask Dahlia what she would recommend. It wouldn’t hurt to finally get to see a bit more of the town as a tourist; there was the pretty village church to view and the Notre-Dame-de-la-Vie perched on an outcrop that Dahlia had told her about, various walks and husky sledding in the neighbouring resorts. She’d learned from the girl she’d bought her new boots from that there was even a goat farm open to the public. It wasn’t exactly high-octane excitement, but peace and quiet was what she needed right now and it was different to anywhere she’d travelled to before. Not that she’d been far.
As she was taking a slurp of her coffee, the mobile she’d left on the table next to her began to buzz a call. Justin’s number flashed up on the screen and she couldn’t help a small smile. Ian hadn’t taken long to employ his secret weapon.
‘Good morning,’ she said as she swiped to take the call. ‘I take it you’ve been talking to Ian already.’
‘Ian?’ he sounded confused. ‘Not today. Should I have done?’
‘Well, no, but… Then why have you called?’
‘I thought… well, I thought a little persistence might pay off. So I was wondering if you wanted to make that trip out to your grandmother’s chalet. I have a day off, so…’
‘You’re offering to take me?’
‘If you would allow it. It’s not so far, and it’s a good day to walk.’
Isla chewed her lip for a moment as she stared in the direction of the windows again. It was a good day for a walk. Would it be so bad to take that walk with Justin? She’d make sure to tell Dahlia where she was going because… well, you never knew. She had a feeling Justin would be good company, plus, she’d already made the mistake of turning one well-meaning man down because of her stupid suspicious nature. Justin was easy on the eye too, which certainly helped make a day with him a more appealing prospect.
‘Sod it!’ she exclaimed.
‘Is that a good thing or a bad thing? What you just said?’
‘I’ll come. You’re right – I should go and see the chalet. Plus, I still don’t know a lot about my new family and perhaps you can fill me in on a little history.’
‘I’d be glad to. So, what time can you be ready? The weather looks OK now but at this time of the year it may change very suddenly.’
‘Give me an hour? I just need to finish my breakfast.’
‘Great. I will wait outside your hotel in one hour’s time.’
One hour later Isla stepped out of the hotel entrance to find Justin leaning against the wall, staring ahead at the line of distant mountains.
‘Boo!’ she said, and he twisted round with a start, looking sheepish as he realised who it was.
She laughed. ‘I didn’t mean to make you jump.’
‘You know I’m not a tough guy now.’
‘That’s OK – I don’t particularly like tough guys.’ She smiled, unable to help herself. The sun was still shining and although the air was cold, knifing her lungs as she breathed it in, she was now almost excited at the prospect of seeing the chalet her grandmother had gifted to her. Nobody had ever left her anything in a will before, let alone a house. It was probably a tiny shack, hardly worth the wood it was built from, but it could be hers
and it would probably be the only property she’d own for a good many years to come. ‘Do we have far to walk?’ she asked, zipping up her coat.
‘About ten minutes. It is a pleasant day but you would be well to keep your jacket on.’
‘Don’t worry I intend to – it’s freezing.’
‘It is a good jacket… very big…’
Isla’s smile turned into a broad grin. ‘It might not be the most elegant item of clothing, but I’ll have you know this coat represents a good portion of my student loan. I’ll be eating cheap beans for the whole of next term because of this. But at least I’ll be warm.’
He offered his arm. ‘Shall we walk?’
She hesitated for a split second before taking it. And even as she did she glanced up, her breath hitching as she noticed who was emerging from the hotel in her wake. Their eyes met at the same time and blood rushed to her face. Sebastian stood at the step with his perky little bow tie peeking out from beneath a huge coat, his foppish hair dipping over one eye and his freckles stark against his skin in the sunlight. He looked from her to Justin, and then his whole figure seemed to visibly sag. Isla hadn’t counted on the fact that he might have been having a late start, rather than an early one, and she’d assumed she wouldn’t see him at all that day. There couldn’t have been a worse moment to bump into him. Why did he have to come out of the hotel at this precise moment? Now she felt like an absolute bitch for turning down his offer of a day out only to be caught going out with someone else. There was no law against it, but still… He didn’t say a word, only heaved a metal case from the pavement where he’d rested it and turned in the direction of what Isla had to presume was the hire car he’d mentioned the day before.
‘Shit,’ she muttered.
‘Is something wrong?’ Justin asked.
She faltered, torn between calling Sebastian back to explain and just making a run for it. In the end there didn’t seem any point in trying to explain. She didn’t even know what it was she was supposed to be explaining. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, so why did it feel like she was?
She shrugged and shook her head and they began to walk. Knowing she shouldn’t, she risked a glance back to see Sebastian return to the hotel doorway, pick up another metal case and hurry back to his car, head down as he walked.
‘You know that man?’ Justin asked.
Isla turned to him. ‘Huh?’
‘You know him?’
‘Oh, he’s staying at the hotel. British. We got chatting one evening, that’s all.’
‘I could guess he is British. He couldn’t look more British if he stuck a flag in his hat.’
‘He’s harmless enough,’ Isla replied, immediately realising just how patronising she sounded.
‘He has an… interesting sense of fashion. I think somebody should talk to him.’
‘He does,’ Isla said, and she turned to see Justin laughing. It might have been funny, but she didn’t feel like laughing at all. She just felt mean and cruel and thought that right now she probably looked a lot like the girls at school who’d made her own teenage life a misery. It wasn’t a nice feeling. She simply wanted to go before he came back again for the third case she could see on the hotel steps.
‘I wonder what is in those suitcases?’ Justin continued, now deeply interested in Sebastian’s comings and goings.
‘I think it’s his scientific equipment. He studies glaciers.’
Justin gave a low whistle. ‘He is a scientist, or perhaps just boring?’
She forced a smile and tried to look like she didn’t care. ‘So,’ she announced, ‘shall we pay attention to where we’re meant to be going? If we’re going to make the chalet by nightfall maybe we’d better stop worrying about Sebastian’s suitcases.’
He shot her a sideways grin. ‘Of course.’
Isla risked one last glance over her shoulder. Sebastian was making his way back along the pavement, his eyes still trained on the ground. She winced as he nearly walked into a lamppost and then looked up as if shocked to see one there. She glanced at Justin and was inexplicably thankful to see that he hadn’t noticed, his own eyes now on the way ahead. She wanted to look back again to see if Sebastian was OK, but she didn’t dare, and so she looked forward and tried not to dwell on the squirming, uncomfortable feeling in her gut that had nothing to do with her enormous breakfast.
As they trudged along glittering lanes overlooked on either side by the roofs and gables of colourful wooden houses Justin explained that Grandma Sarah had mostly used her holiday home during the summer months. He hadn’t known her that well, not being direct family, but he had met her on one or two extended family occasions. Towards the end of her life she hadn’t been well enough to visit more than once or twice a year, but even when she was ill she still came. She wouldn’t let anyone else use the house when she wasn’t there – not paying guests and not even family. Isla imagined her to be a rather cantankerous old woman and thought it was no wonder young Ian McCoy had been attracted to the beautiful but stubborn Glory.
She listened to Justin carefully as he went over details and descriptions of family members and events, habits and traditions, alliances and enmities, silently trying to get a handle on the family dynamic. She wondered where on earth she might fit in if she did decide to become a part of it, how her mum might take the news, and even how her mum might fit in too. Because whether he’d realised it or not, if Ian was serious about bringing his eldest daughter back into the fold, he was going to have to deal with his ex-wife at some point.
Justin talked and Isla listened; he had an accent like melted chocolate dripping from a spoon, a charming turn of phrase and the most perfectly imperfect words that came from speaking a language not his own. It was soothing, like a water feature or the steady gurgle of a mountain stream, and Isla let it wash over her. They passed through winding streets, beneath the hanging eaves of houses, through snow-snagged alleyways and wider boulevards where the snow had been cleared. Past the church with its stone walls and delicate steeple and a frosting of snow on its roof, receiving friendly nods from passing groups of skiers making their way up to the slopes. Trees and evergreen shrubs were dressed in Christmas glitter, every shop and hotel had decorations and strings of lights in windows and hanging from porches, and every restaurant doorway sent tendrils of sweet and spicy aromas out into the frosty air.
After a time, Justin stopped and smiled, nodding towards a sharp incline. ‘The house is just up there.’
It took another couple of minutes before they could see fully the cluster of chalets at the top and he guided her to one standing apart from the others. Isla glanced at him as she followed. Surely that wasn’t it? She waited for him to realise his mistake, to change course for the actual chalet that was going to be hers. But he slowed to a halt outside it and turned to her with a broad grin.
‘Here it is: Serendipity Sound. You like?’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘Why would I joke?’ He gave a slight frown. ‘This is your grandmother’s house.’
‘It’s incredible! Are you sure I’m not supposed to be looking at some shed or annexe at the back? This is actually it?’
‘It is not what you were expecting?’
Isla gazed up at the building. Like the church, it was built from solid grey stone, with hardwood eaves and a steeply sloping roof, a wooden veranda and balconies at every upstairs window, of which there were many. It was three or four times the size she’d imagined it would be, and instead of looking like a cute log cabin with maybe a bed and a washbasin, it was more like a mansion.
‘Not at all. I was expecting it to be a tiny wooden hut. You know, like the ones you see in horror films all dusty and falling to bits, with moose heads hanging from the walls and people getting chopped up in the cellar.’
‘Mon dieu!’ he laughed. ‘Your imagination is crazy!’ He shot her a wicked grin. ‘You were worried? Did you think I was bringing you here to chop you up in the cellar?’
‘I hope not
because I’d have a devil of a time running away in this snow.’
‘You are quite safe with me. My uncle would not be happy if I chopped you up.’
Isla raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, that makes me feel better.’
‘Come,’ he said, still laughing. ‘Let me show you around.’
She followed him up to the porch where he took some keys from his pocket. ‘Is that the only set?’ Isla asked, angling her head at them.
Justin held the bunch up. ‘There are two sets. One is with Monsieur Rousseau in Scotland – he will keep them until you decide what to do. This set belongs to my uncle, but he has given them to me today so I can bring you here.’
Isla wondered whether Grover Rousseau knew about the spare set. She was pretty sure that the lawyer was supposed to have everything relating to the property if it was part of an as yet un-administered estate. But what did she know about it? And why did she care? The bigger puzzle was still why Grandma Sarah would have left this magnificent house to her. She’d been vaguely determined not to be swayed by anything she was shown today but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold onto that resolve.
She looked up at the weathered hardwood eaves, the delicate lead patterns of the glass in the front door, the loose gathering of trees that shaded it from the worst of the elements and the shadow of the mountains at its back, and already she could feel the house working its magic, could almost picture a life in which she owned it. The air was fresher and cleaner here than any she’d breathed before and it was tranquil like nothing she’d ever experienced. She pictured herself sitting on the porch in the summer, bugs hovering in the long grass as the sunset burnished them gold, the gentle sounds of birdsong and the chirruping of crickets replacing the car horns and engines of her home back in Britain. Grandma Sarah had been canny; whatever her motives, she hadn’t underestimated the power of this place. She must have known it would lure Isla in and persuade her to spend more time here.
Justin twisted the key in the lock of the front door. As it opened wide he stepped back to allow Isla to enter first.
When she looked back on this day, the one thing she’d remember about stepping inside for the first time was the smell of waxed wood – warm and mellow. They walked straight into a cosy living room, almost bigger than her mum’s entire flat back home. The sunlight filtered in through the slats of closed blinds, throwing subtle stripes of light and shade onto the opposite wall. Justin stepped round her to open them up, washing the room in glorious lemon light and revealing detail in every corner: a plump red sofa with soft woven cotton throws, gleaming hardwood floors with patterned rugs in earthy tones dotted around them and modern art prints on the walls. A cavernous stone fireplace dominated the far wall, so large and wide that Isla half expected to find a grizzly bear hibernating in there. A few feet away stood a mahogany piano. Surprisingly nothing was dust-sheeted and it was free from the musty smell of a place neglected. Either the house had been in use recently, or someone had made an effort to go in and air it especially for Isla’s visit. She was betting on the latter, though she still didn’t trust any of this branch of the McCoy family.
A Cosy Candlelit Christmas: A wonderfully festive feel good romance (An Unforgettable Christmas Book 2) Page 9
