by Minna Howard
‘I’ll ring him now, get you an appointment, he’s near the swimming pool, Sports Aid, you’ll see the sign flashing on and off. You can park there.’ He frowned. ‘Can you drive with it?’
‘Yes,’ she said, wondering how much the appointment would cost.
As if he could read her mind, he said, ‘Tell him to put it down on the Jacaranda account. I’ll ring him now.’ And he swept out of the kitchen.
The appointment was made for mid-afternoon so she spent the morning poring through her recipe books. Bert lay under the table, his head on her foot, every so often sighing mournfully. He often went skiing with Theo, who carried him on his back in a rucksack, but after letting him out for a short run this morning, Theo had gone back to bed and Bert no doubt guessed that he’d be confined to the basement when the new guests arrived.
‘Don’t be sad, Bert.’ She fondled his ears and he snuffled his nose into her hand. ‘We’ll go out for a walk later.’
She planned to buy the non-perishable items now, then at least the bulk of the shopping would be done. The turkey and the meat for the stuffing had been ordered and she could send Theo down for those. She wished he were free today to help her, but he’d come back at dawn and she wouldn’t disturb him. She’d done the same with Kit and Lizzie. There was such a hole in her heart without them now, but she had to set them free and they would come back, she remembered a friend telling her. In her friend’s case, holding a grandchild that had landed her daughter back home.
Eloise drove the jeep down to the village and found Pascal’s practice. The waiting room was small and rather dark, lit by a pinkish glow from a lava lamp with its mesmerizing blobs of oil gently belching shapes. A young woman sitting at a desk confirmed her appointment, telling her Pascal was running a little late but would see her as soon as he could.
If she wasn’t in so much pain she’d leave it and come back another time, but she sat down on one of the straight-backed chairs that discouraged slouching and leafed through some old magazines.
Pascal obviously wasn’t the only practitioner here for there were two other women waiting who were soon called into other rooms. The time ticked past, the outside door opening to let in other people, and just when Eloise thought she really couldn’t wait any longer Pascal’s door opened and a woman dressed in a blue tracksuit came out.
‘Thank you Pascal,’ she drawled, bending back to kiss him, ‘much better now, I’ll come back for another session soon.’
At the same moment the outside door opened and she heard Harvey’s voice, ‘See you later.’ The door closed and a woman in a shocking pink ski jacket came in. Eloise was rooted to her chair, her feelings in turmoil. Pascal had come out of his room and now leant over her, speaking quietly, apologizing for keeping her waiting, asking if she needed help getting up.
She shook her head and struggled up, following him into his consulting room. His voice was soothing in her ear, saying that Lawrence had sent her to him and what bad luck it was to be injured on her first day out. He ushered her into a light peaceful room scented by a large candle that glowed on a table, and she sat down where he showed her, opposite his desk. He shut the door, cutting off the scene outside, of Harvey’s woman.
She realized he was watching her intently and she pulled herself together. He began to question her on her injury and she forced herself to focus on the matter in hand, her injured shoulder that must be cured so that she could cook over Christmas. Harvey and his sexpots were not her concern any more. She concentrated on Pascal.
She imagined he was much older than he appeared; he was lean, with a healthy look about him, his face baby smooth without a line anywhere.
The pain from his manipulation was agony, but it took her mind off the pain in her heart. After a while her shoulder felt looser, and he strapped it up to give her more comfort whilst still ensuring she could use her arm.
He suggested she came to see him again. ‘It’s not so bad, but I’ll give you some painkillers,’ he said, writing a prescription, ‘it shouldn’t keep you off the slopes for long.’
‘That’s a relief.’ She didn’t say that Lawrence was more concerned about her being able to wield heavy pans than skis.
As she left his room, she walked tall, determined to inspect Harvey’s woman, but she was not there. She went out into the street, afraid now of bumping into Harvey. How could he be here just when she was getting over him, doing something different with her life?
She struggled round the shops, wishing she had Theo to carry and heave things for her but relieved she hadn’t bumped into Harvey or his pink lady. At last, with everything in the jeep and feeling slightly woozy from Pascal’s wrestling and the painkillers, she drove back up to Jacaranda.
To her relief she caught Theo, who was on his way out. He told Bert to wait and carried everything inside for her, dumping the boxes on the island in the middle of the kitchen. She took off her boots and headed into the kitchen.
Aurelia was sitting in the window seat, drinking coffee with Lawrence. There was a shiny brochure on the table between them.
‘Why, hello, if it’s not your little cook,’ Aurelia greeted her. ‘Been shopping, what have you bought?’
Her heart fell – first Harvey and now Aurelia. She was looking so… smug, at home, whatever. Saskia’s words – ‘it’s Jacaranda she’s after’ – buzzed in her brain.
‘Just stuff for Christmas,’ she muttered.
‘I hope Pascal sorted you out.’ Lawrence eyed her intently as if he were worried she’d tell him she’d been forbidden to cook.
‘Why, what’s wrong?’ Aurelia perked up as if she hoped that something serious had happened to prevent Eloise cooking so Lawrence could order his whole Christmas banquet from her.
‘I’m fine now, thank you so much for suggesting the appointment,’ Eloise smiled at him.
‘Good, now don’t get knocked down again,’ Lawrence sounded relieved, ‘we need you here and next week will be a hard one.’
‘Do you really think you can manage?’ Aurelia’s tone of voice suggested that she thought she could not and that she was surely the better choice to ensure these exclusive guests were served the kind of food they were accustomed to. She leant closer to Lawrence, her hair brushing his face as she pushed the shiny brochure towards him. Eloise had a glimpse of luscious photographs of succulent meats and colourful vegetables all beautifully arranged on silver dishes.
‘Of course I can,’ Eloise said, not looking at her. She had hoped to have a lie-down before she tidied her shopping away but she didn’t dare leave now. Left alone with Lawrence, Aurelia would no doubt try and persuade him that it would be wiser to count on her, if she hadn’t been trying already, coming here with her shiny brochure to tempt him. She started to unpack the shopping, picking up two tins of sweet chestnut puree that she’d bought as a filling for a meringue vacherin.
‘Oh, tinned, they really have no flavour compared with cooking them from scratch. Anyone who’s a serious cook on the continent makes their own,’ Aurelia said disdainfully, shoving her brochure into Lawrence’s lap before springing up and coming over to the boxes and picking through the contents. ‘And this chocolate.’ She held up the bar by the tips of her fingers. ‘I wish you’d asked me. It doesn’t have nearly as much flavour as the 80 per cent one, and this butter’s not the best. I suppose you can just get away with it if you use it for cakes or pastry, but it burns too quickly to fry with.’
‘I’ll take you with me next time and you can point out the best things,’ Eloise said sharply. She didn’t want her here in her kitchen she didn’t want her to have anything to do with Jacaranda. She thought back to the good times when she, her parents and Desmond and Maddy were here. Then later Harvey, Kit and Lizzie. It had always been a noisy, chaotic, happy place, and now with this cold, designer kitchen and Aurelia hovering like a bird of prey waiting to pounce, she felt that something was missing.
Aurelia sat down again on the window seat close to Lawrence. She picked up the br
ochure, which lay untouched on his lap. ‘You can buy chestnut puree from me, you know,’ her voice was seductive as if she was offering him something more intimate. She flicked through the pages.
‘Eloise has bought it now,’ Lawrence said, trying to get up from the seat but somewhat trapped by the table and Aurelia.
‘Pity, but there’s plenty more in my brochure. Let’s see what other things I can tempt you with,’ she purred, snuggling even closer to him.
Twelve
The past week’s guests left in the minibus for the airport with Theo. To his dismay, Bert had to stay behind, in case, ‘the new lot are dog haters,’ Theo muttered to Eloise before he left.
Lawrence and Eloise went outside to wave the guests on their way. There were effusive yet rather staged goodbyes, except from Celia and Neil who scurried into the bus, heads down as if terrified that Eloise might produce a town crier’s bell and finally expose their bedroom antics.
With any luck Harvey too would have left today, Saturday being changeover day for most of the chalets.
It seemed to Eloise as she went back inside Jacaranda with Lawrence that the parting guests had taken the relaxed atmosphere of the chalet with them. He seemed preoccupied. He opened the door for her to go back inside and then disappeared downstairs to his office without a word to her, making her feel discarded. She scolded herself, he had so much to think of, namely to chase up the Christmas tree that should have arrived last night, and after all it was not his role to boost her ego.
She went upstairs to her room. She hadn’t had time to sort out her clothes, just jammed them into the cupboard, so she took everything out now and began to sort them, jerseys one side, shirts and jeans the other, and the one skirt and smartish dress she’d shoved in her case as an afterthought, she hung up.
In the wardrobe, there were some books on the top shelf and a faded dark red box pushed at the back that sparked some long-ago memory. She pulled the box out, put it on the bed and opened it, and there, wrapped carefully in tissue paper, were Christmas decorations for the tree.
She unwrapped one, a tiny house with a red shiny roof and the black boots of a mini Father Christmas sticking up from the chimney. She smiled as she remembered it and the Christmas she had spent here as a child. Opening this box with the spun-glass decorations evoked the joy of that time; she’d take them downstairs and get Theo to help her decorate the tree when it arrived.
There was no one around when she went downstairs, so she left the red box in the kitchen and got ready to go out.
Lawrence had agreed on her menus and Eloise drove down to the village to buy the fresh food for the dinner this evening. It was a dull day, very cold, the sky heavy with snow, like a grey blanket bearing down on them. She parked the jeep and went into the butcher’s to place her order and almost bumped into Aurelia, who was just coming out.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ Aurelia said dismissively. ‘Hear you’ve got those terrifying new guests arriving today. Lawrence is frantically worried that it won’t work out and they’ll complain to the agency and they will only send him the dreggy clients, if any, in the future.’ She glared at Eloise as if Jacaranda’s ruin would be all her fault.
‘I expect they’ll be fine,’ Eloise said coldly, though her stomach churned with anxiety. She moved to go into the shop but Aurelia barred her way.
‘I do hope so; Lawrence cannot afford to lose money over it. I mean,’ she laughed disparagingly, ‘I don’t know if you are aware but Jacaranda needs a complete makeover, it’s wiring must be a fire risk by now, it’s so ancient, and the plumbing…’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘It must be done soon too and that will cost a fortune, which I don’t think he has.’
The tone of her voice infuriated Eloise. She’d overheard Lawrence telling Theo about the old wiring and she’d noticed that the bathroom she’d used on the first floor was looking tired, but she wasn’t going to agree with Aurelia. ‘Jacaranda looks fine to me. It was properly built and has far more style and class than any of the newer chalets I’ve seen. Apart from the kitchen but…’
‘I planned the kitchen and it’s exactly what you need if you’re doing this job professionally,’ Aurelia said icily. ‘Cosy kitchens provide cosy cooking, which any discerning guests definitely do not want.’ She tossed her head in the air and walked away.
Eloise let her go, she’d sensed a touch of desperation in her voice, perhaps she’d hoped her ‘Tempting Delights’ would win over Lawrence. What did Aurelia feel for him? He was attractive, more than Eloise remembered, but then he’d been very young and arrogant when she’d last seen him. Did Aurelia care for him or just want to get her hands on Jacaranda?
Eloise wanted to fight for Jacaranda herself, stop Aurelia muscling in and changing it – and snatching Lawrence, a small voice said inside her, though she hurriedly dismissed it. Somehow he touched her heart, but that was just foolishness; it was Jacaranda and all the happy memories it held for her that made her want to fight. But when she returned home, it would leave the path clear for Aurelia, who she feared was already well ahead with her plans to move in.
If only there was something she could do to persuade Lawrence that Jacaranda didn’t need Aurelia in order to be successful. Eloise was going home in a few weeks, would she have time to persuade him to keep Jacaranda in the family?
*
She finished her shopping and drove slowly back to Jacaranda, her shoulder still throbbing, although it was almost better now.
Eloise’s heart sank when she arrived at the chalet and saw Aurelia’s red sports car parked in her place. She struggled to control her frustration. Jacaranda’s fate wasn’t anything to do with her, she reminded herself as she heaved out the shopping. If Lawrence wanted to keep Jacaranda, he had to run it as a business and go with the flow of today’s requirements. Her sentimental memories were not part of the plan.
There was a Christmas wreath on the door and when she went in she saw the tree wedged in the hall, still in its netting; it had arrived. She clumped along the passage to the kitchen, dumping down the box of groceries. There was no sign of Aurelia or Lawrence. Vera was having a cup of coffee and she insisted on helping carry in the rest of the shopping. As they passed the stairs down to the lower floor, they could hear Aurelia’s voice drifting up to them from Lawrence’s office.
‘But if you really want to make a success of Jacaranda, Lawrence, you’ve got to up your game. Believe me, I know these sorts of people; they come to my shop all the time. They don’t want sausage and mash and shepherd’s pie.’
‘And nor will they have it,’ they heard Lawrence say, but they were back in the kitchen, out of earshot, before they could hear Aurelia’s next set of instructions of how to turn Jacaranda into a place to tempt the rich clients.
Vera muttered, ‘That woman’s always telling Lawrence what she wants. But the people who come here always seem happy with their holiday.’
‘The guests arriving today though are very rich and spoilt. They’re already disappointed they didn’t get a more luxurious chalet to stay in over the holiday,’ Eloise told her.
Vera shrugged, ‘Everyone who comes here is very rich. They are only people, and we will take them as they are. You do good food and the place is clean and comfortable and the mountains are beautiful, that should be enough.’
‘You’re right, it should be.’ Eloise had the same thoughts as Vera, finding it incomprehensible that people coming to this lovely chalet should complain. But for Vera, who’d told her a few facts about her life – how she’d been in circumstances where she hadn’t known where the next meal was coming from or where she would sleep that night – such dissatisfaction was unforgiveable.
A few minutes later they heard Aurelia leaving. ‘So take my advice, I know what I’m talking about,’ was her parting shot, sending an icy blast of air down the passage as she opened the front door to go outside.
Lawrence came into the kitchen; he appeared uneasy. ‘Oh… Eloise, could I have a word with you… if you’re not bus
y,’ he added as if he hoped she was and he could put it off.
There was a sinking feeling in her stomach, had Aurelia persuaded him her ‘Delights’ were better suited to these multi-millionaires? Well, she would not go without a fight.
She followed him down to his office. He stood back to let her go in and shut the door behind him, which she took as an ominous sign that he didn’t want Vera to hear him dismissing her. She sat down and faced him.
He stayed standing, one hand fiddling with his mobile that lay on the desk. ‘Aurelia was here and…’ he began, his eyes fixed on the papers on his desk as though they held some vital information.
‘I know. I saw her in the butcher’s; she made it quite clear that I am not up to cooking for the clients arriving today. I suppose you want me to go home and she will provide you with her Tempting Delights instead.’ There she’d made it easy for him, she half rose to leave.
‘No,’ he looked stricken, ‘that’s not going to happen. I’m sorry.’ He raked his hands through his hair, his face anguished. ‘I shouldn’t burden you with this, but Jacaranda needs a lot spent on it, those dull but necessary things – plumbing, rewiring. I should have done it before, but somehow I kept putting it off. These clients coming today are very important in ensuring Jacaranda’s future, but they wanted a far more luxurious chalet than this one, so it’s not going to be easy to satisfy them, and if not…’ He left the sentence hanging in the air, clearly anxious about the alternative.
‘We’ll just have to be extra nice to them then,’ Eloise tried to raise his spirits. ‘I promise there’ll be no sausages and mash.’
He smiled, guessing she’d heard Aurelia’s comments, and just for a second Eloise felt they were united, their eyes catching in a moment of intimacy.
Thirteen
‘Sorry to snipe at you, Desmond, but I’ve things to do before these clients arrive.’ Lawrence felt bad about interrupting his father’s questions as he waited for the first lot who’d arrive from the heliport.
