A Winter Affair

by Minna Howard

  He had been surprised at Eloise’s reaction to Aurelia’s gift. He hadn’t thought she’d take offence. Perhaps she felt intimidated by her, she was after all still settling in, but she should have taken Aurelia’s gesture in good grace. Aurelia meant well, in fact she was a great support to him and the running of Jacaranda.

  It was a difficult job being the host to strangers in his own home, for he saw Jacaranda as his home and business now. Having worked in hospitality in a well-known vineyard in France it had been good training, though nothing like what he experienced day to day at Jacaranda.

  Some of the guests were lovely and had become friends, but he was dreading the people coming for Christmas who were mega-rich, and most likely spoilt, and were very disappointed that they had not been able to stay in one of the new, eye-wateringly expensive chalets down in the village, as they’d been booked up for months in advance, so they must ‘make do’ with Jacaranda. He suspected they would be very challenging.

  Amongst the Christmas guests was a mother-in-law in her early sixties who didn’t ski, which meant she would probably stay in for much of the time and expect lunch, which would add extra work for Eloise. He’d confided his fear to Aurelia, who said she’d be more than happy to provide lunch, but that would be an added expense and he needed to conserve his money to pay for the intensive repairs Jacaranda urgently needed.

  Jacaranda needed to be rewired and to have new plumbing, he could not put it off any longer. These old chalets needed to be able to work with modern devices and he would like to put in another shower room and revamp one or two of the other bathrooms. All this had to be done well and not spoil the overall look of Jacaranda – and all of it needed money. He might have to close the chalet during the summer season while the refurbishments were being done, which would mean losing vital income. There was a lot to consider.

  He did not want to burden his father with his worries, he knew how much he loved Jacaranda, it held so many of his precious memories of his beloved partner, Maddy. Desmond had tried to stay on here without her after she’d died, but it had been too hard and he had moved to Antigua to escape the constant reminders of her loss. He understood, and one of the many reasons he was determined to keep Jacaranda going was because it had been Maddy’s idea to open the chalet for holiday guests to help pay for its upkeep, so Desmond and Lawrence could keep it. He remembered her enthusiasm and how planning the business had lifted her up through her months of illness. Her courage kept him focused on making a success of it in her memory. One day he hoped his father would come back and see just how Maddy’s dream had been realized. But he would not push him; he must come when he felt ready.

  His face was tingling with cold now as he increased his speed, his body agile, taking quick turns, slicing down the mountain, and when he reached the end of the slope, he was surging with life and energy. There were only gentle slopes now down to the gondola, and sadly there was no time for him to go up again. He’d ski down to the chalet through the trees and get back to work. There were a few maintenance jobs to be done, and he must get in the drinks and ensure that the tree and a wreath for the front door were in place in time to greet the guests who would be arriving at Jacaranda for Christmas next week.

  He went slower now, eking out the time before he had to go back. He was still annoyed with Denise – the chef he’d employed for the whole season – flying off with that paunchy grey-haired banker in his private helicopter, leaving him in the lurch. She was a brilliant chef, she’d worked for him before and he’d paid over the odds for her. He hadn’t been impressed when he’d discovered she’d just upped and gone, leaving only a scrappy note in her room by way of explanation, ‘Sorry gone with Mike,’ and he’d had to ask Aurelia to produce some of her wildly expensive meals, which had been a help, but he couldn’t afford to splash out so much for long, and though she talked about ‘mates rates’ for things she wanted, she wasn’t prepared to offer them to her ‘mates’ herself. The last two chefs he’d hired were worse than useless, aged chalet girls who thought producing something hot with plenty of ketchup for dinner and bought ice cream with melted chocolate as a pudding was all they needed to do to please the guests, leaving them plenty of time to hit the slopes and the bars.

  Faced with having to shell out for yet more of Aurelia’s ‘Tempting Delights’ (and she put her prices up for Christmas fare), he had taken his father’s advice to contact Eloise, his father’s goddaughter, who he couldn’t remember meeting. She was – according to Desmond – a cordon bleu chef, though in fact she wasn’t, but he didn’t hold his exaggeration of her skills against his father, he always saw the best in people.

  Eloise was doing her best, both dinners she’d produced so far had been good but not spectacular, and he now worried that her best might not be enough, or she’d panic and not be able to cope with the Christmas guests coming next week. He knew this was unfair, she had been honest about her cooking qualifications and his father had no idea of the quality needed today and had recommended her in good faith, but what made it worse was that he was banking on these Christmas guests to bring him continued success. They were his first clients from one of the top letting agencies, where he’d only recently been accepted. If their visit were a success the agency would send other rich clients his way, which would solve the problem of keeping Jacaranda safe.

  Switzerland was expensive, and now there were so many chalets and hotels to stay in and in cheaper resorts in France and Italy, it was getting increasingly difficult to keep the place filled with the sort of clientele he wanted… he needed well-paid adults who loved skiing and were out on the mountains most of the day, expecting only breakfast and dinner and sometimes a cake for tea.

  He didn’t encourage families with young children, he had nothing against small children, but there were too many hazards around the chalet, and if they were not kept a strict eye on they could wander out on the road, which seemed to have more cars each year, or through the trees and even down to the stream. There were always stories, mostly true, of adults as well as children wandering off in the dusk and getting lost; some were not found before it was too late.

  ‘Lawrence, you’re out early,’ Aurelia called to him, disturbing his thoughts. She was standing by the entrance to the gondola. One came up from Medran and stopped here. There was another one that took skiers higher up to the top of the mountain. Aurelia was dressed in baby blue with a pink, no doubt cashmere hat pulled over her ears.

  He was about to answer when an Adonis of a ski guide carrying her skis joined her.

  ‘How’s your little cook?’ she asked.

  ‘Fine thank you,’ he said, wanting to be on his way as he had things to do before Theo brought this week’s guests back to Jacaranda.

  ‘Well you know where to come if she can’t cope, let me know if you want anything she can’t manage.’ There was a touch of mockery in her smile.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll be fine, Eloise knows what’s she’s doing,’ he said, surprising himself by feeling protective towards her. ‘Have a good day.’ He turned and left.

  He made his way through the other skiers, some having just come up from the village, hanging around waiting for friends, others coming out of the restaurant, or about to go up again, and a few, like him, skiing down to the bottom. It amused him that Aurelia who could ski far better than most people usually skied with a private guide. They were always good-looking men, and he wondered what else she expected from them.

  Aurelia was a complicated woman, a beautiful one, but now he thought of it she reminded him of a spoilt little rich girl. She never seemed satisfied with anything or anyone, a misfortune he guessed that came from a deep insecurity. She’d come out here a year ago with Malcolm, an older man, who, rumour had it, was a rich lover helping her start up her business, providing sophisticated takeaways. These were aimed at people who didn’t do their own cooking or were giving parties or just staying in and wanting to enjoy a delicious supper they hadn’t had to cook themselves. They could pick
up a meal from her shop, or if they ordered a meal in advance it would be delivered to their chalet. It was expensive but she used the best ingredients and all they needed to do was to put in the oven. There was no mess and preparing to do, but still, he thought, she charged too much, but then if people were prepared to pay for it, bully for her.

  Malcolm was not here that often, though she often spoke of him, and although she showed an interest in Lawrence and especially Jacaranda, he had steered clear of any romantic entanglements since a relationship he’d had with a French woman had drifted to a close last year.

  Lawrence skied through the dark trees with quick, tight turns. High above him glided the gondoliers. There was no one else about now as he was off-piste and he felt the joy of skiing, the silence in this part of the mountain away from the main runs and above the bustle of the village. He wished he could spend the day outside, go up higher and do one of the longer routes up to Mort Fort or down Tortin, but if he was to keep Jacaranda as his home he had to give the business his time and attention and just snatch days off when it was empty. Theo did a lot, but he needed to be around himself when they had guests, in case there was a drama: a plane ticket lost, a complaint, or an accident. There’d been quite a few of those over the years, and it wasn’t the highlight of the job, trying to deal with fractious guests, often fuelled by tiredness or alcohol.

  He’d reached the bottom of the run now; it opened out to an easier slope used by the ski school for beginners. As he traversed across the well-used snow, the ridges from previous skiers softening in the sun, he thought fondly of his father. Now some time had passed, he might feel comforted to be back where he and Maddy had been so happy. He remembered his father explaining to him after his parents’ divorce how he’d met the love of his life, though he added quickly that he had loved Agnes, his mother, but it had been a young love, full of passion and torment, and they were really so unsuited to settling down, and though they both loved him, they couldn’t stay together without one of them destroying the other.

  Not until he was older had he really understood. He adored his mother but she’d always felt distant, in a world of her own, and when Desmond met Maddy, such a warm and loving person, Lawrence found himself gravitating more towards her, which filled him with guilt, but whenever he was with his mother there were such dramas. Men were always falling in love with her and she, like a child with her toys, picked them up, played with them a little, before becoming bored and discarding them. She’d had two more children, his half-brother Nathan and half-sister Tia, with whom he got on well when he saw them. They lived in the US now, where their fathers – both different – lived. Both his mother and Maddy were dead and, he admitted with a touch of guilt, he missed Maddy far more than he did his own mother.

  Yes, he thought as he came to the path that led to the chalet, he’d encourage Desmond to come here in the summer. He hadn’t seen him since the summer before last when he’d visited him in Antigua. He knew Desmond, hated not being able to ski as he used to any more, but surely he could walk on his beloved mountains among the alpine flowers? Perhaps it would not be too difficult to persuade him to visit, especially as it would give him a chance to see Theo again.

  Thinking of Theo made him think of Georgia. They too had been badly matched. They’d met at university and had a brief but passionate affair that had led to Theo’s arrival. Despite their love for him, they both agreed it wasn’t enough to sustain a marriage.

  Georgia now lived in Italy and she and Lawrence kept in touch about Theo and were always pleased to meet up with each other, though now that Theo was old enough to travel on his own they hadn’t seen each other for over two years. Georgia was happily married with two little daughters, Theo’s half-sisters, who adored their older brother. He liked Fabien, Georgia’s husband, and when they were all together they got on well; such was the mix of modern families.

  He skied across to the chalet as far as he could, then took off his skies, clanking them together to shake off the snow before hoisting them onto his shoulder and walking the last bit. Knowing he wouldn’t be skiing again that day, he put his skis in the shed outside before going in and taking off his boots in the hall. A warm, sweet aroma wrapped itself around him, a scent of fresh baking, oranges and brandy filling him with a feeling of well-being and, absurdly, of being at home.

  Eight

  It was not the Cordon Bleu Foundation course but her grandmother who’d taught Eloise how to cook Christmas pudding. In Granny’s day it would have been thought a disgrace to buy such things ready-made, if you could buy them at all. In contrast, her mother always bought the Christmas puddings as, she said, she had better things to do than boil up a pudding for eight hours.

  Eloise had no idea what the Christmas puddings would be like here, or even if they sold them, as they were a British, not European tradition. After the cake episode she did not want Aurelia turning up with one of hers, which she suspected would probably come in a gold pudding basin stamped with her name and proclaiming Tempting Delight, which sounded more like an aphrodisiac than a homely pudding.

  The guests who’d arrived late last night had finally left the chalet with Theo to go down to the ski shop and get kitted out. The men of the party were up early prowling around like hungry lions impatient to be off, while the women seemed more relaxed and said as it was their first day they’d rather get up there for lunch and ski afterwards. Theo also prowled about, longing to be free of his duties of settling in these guests, keen to get on the slopes himself. Bert too was restless and kept barking to go out.

  ‘Lawrence promised I could go when they have got everything, but it looks like I won’t get there until it’s dark,’ Theo moaned, picking at the raisins and candied fruit marinating in the brandy for the mince pies.

  ‘I expect they are tired after their journey. There’s nothing worse than sitting around for hours waiting for a plane to arrive. Travel stress is exhausting,’ Eloise said, ‘and this lovely air is apt to make one feel soporific as well.’ She wondered how it must feel for Theo, always having to share his home with strangers, new people arriving every week or so.

  ‘S’pose.’ Theo dug his fingers in the mixture again, so she had to move the bowl out of his way. He was just like Kit and Lizzie, hovering round her in the kitchen, sampling her food before it was even ready. Kit said he preferred uncooked cake mixture to cooked so she needn’t bother with putting it in the oven. She thought about them now and hoped they were all right out in the wide world. She realized that she was grateful to be here with lots to occupy her, to take her mind off worrying about her children.

  After a bit of urging the women to hurry up from the men, the party finally left with Theo. They had all skied before so they knew the form, and with luck, Theo said, he hoped he could leave them to it, though he had to hang about until they were all kitted out and ready to go.

  ‘I do remind them, but they often leave their passports or even money behind, or once,’ Theo raised his eyes, ‘a woman forgot to change into her ski boots and had to come back here and fetch them, holding everyone up even more.’

  There seemed to be no such dramas today and at last Eloise and Vera were left in peace in the chalet and sat down to a cup of coffee and a slice of lemon drizzle cake. Aurelia’s show-off chocolate cake would do for tea. Just the sight of the box upset her, not because of the cake but because Lawrence thought she’d been ungrateful for Aurelia’s ‘kind’ deed and slighted this woman, whom she suspected was trying to take her place.

  ‘You good cook.’ Vera took another biscuit. ‘Proper home cooking, not fancy stuff.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Eloise said, ‘it’s what I like best.’ She got up to go and check on the Christmas puddings. She hoped she’d have time to go down to the village and get her boots and skis sorted out and find time to ski tomorrow. She didn’t dare leave the Christmas puddings cooking to go skiing today – though it was so bright and beautiful –she couldn’t risk them boiling dry if she got held up on the mountai
n. No, she would wait at the chalet with Vera. She didn’t want to give Lawrence or Aurelia any more reasons to criticize her.

  She wondered how old Vera was. She could be anything from fifty to seventy, or even older. Despite her small stature, she possessed great strength, she’d seen her heave the heavy furniture away from the wall to sweep behind it, and when she’d offered to help, Vera had waved her away, saying she could manage.

  ‘So how long have you worked for Lawrence?’ Eloise asked with a smile, not wanting to seem too inquisitive but longing to know.

  ‘Four years,’ Vera said, getting up from the table and collecting up their mugs and taking them to the sink to rinse them out. ‘He is a good man,’ she said, ‘I would die for him, in fact I might have died without him.’

  Before Eloise could question her further they heard the back door open and the sound of someone clumping in.

  Lawrence came into the kitchen, his face flushed by the cold, his hair standing up like burnished feathers on his head. ‘I can’t resist the smell of your baking, Eloise,’ he said, ‘hope there is some I can eat. I’m starving.’

  ‘Of course, help yourself.’ Eloise wondered if he was trying to be friendly after their contretemps over Aurelia yesterday.

  ‘I will make you a coffee. Was the skiing good?’ Vera said, drying her hands before grappling with the coffee machine to make more coffee. Eloise pushed the biscuits towards him. Perhaps he’d rather have a slice of Aurelia’s cake, though she wouldn’t draw attention to it and remind him of his reprimand of her ingratitude.

  ‘What else is cooking, smells like Christmas pudding?’ he asked her.

  ‘Yes, I thought I better make them as I didn’t know what kind they sell in the village, or if they sell them at all.’

  ‘Aurelia sells them, she makes all the things the Brits don’t seem to be able to live without,’ he said, smiling at Vera as she handed him his coffee.