Chapter Twenty-Four
Saturday, 18 th November
The timer on Rico’s phone beeped, and he pushed himself up from his chair. Ouch… it was time for another walk round his father’s flat. Broken ribs were the pits. Every single thing you did, including breathing, involved ribs. Everyone said, oh, broken ribs, they’ll soon heal, and while that was possibly true, the unfortunate patient went through purgatory in the process, something he hadn’t realised before. He’d be a lot more sympathetic towards the next person he came across with bashed ribs, that was sure. And the only treatment was painkillers. To add insult to injury, he’d been told to stay off the booze and keep moving.
He paced up and down the living area, stopping at the far end to gaze out to Lake Lugano in the distance, shining blue in winter sunshine. What did Lake Constance look like today – was there snow in Grimsbach? The Alpstein mountains would be well covered, although snow in November could be here and gone again before anyone had time to strap on their skis. It would be a while before he was strapping on his, anyway.
And the biggest question of all – what was Stacy doing? It was the weekend, so maybe she’d be out with Kim or Eva or Flavia after a hard week’s work at the hotel. The usual feeling of helplessness whenever he thought about her flooded into his gut. It must be lonely, all by herself in the flat. At least during the week, she had the daytime company of the build workers and the few staff members who were there. Karen would be back next week, and all he could hope was that she’d be halfway civilised, but knowing Stacy, he’d be the last person she’d tell if Karen was horrible to her again. The rest of the team would rally round if there were any problems, though. Andi or Martin or…
Martin. A cold, heavy weight replaced the helplessness in Rico’s stomach. Martin had taken Stacy out to dinner, oh hell, what had happened there? She’d been pretty casual about it in her text, but that didn’t mean anything.
Doubt and frustration welled up in Rico, and he thumped the window frame, pain zipping through his rib cage. Served him right. It was all too obvious that Stacy wasn’t missing him anything like as much as he was missing her. And why should she? All he’d done was pant around after her like a lovesick teenager and maul her when she’d got stuck in the lift. He’d never sent her flowers or asked her on a romantic date, because he was too bloody scared she’d reject him. Now Martin was very possibly stealing her from under his nose, and there was nothing he could do about it, stuck here in Lugano. Should he call her? Ask for a Skype tour of the build? She’d mentioned that once, but they’d never done it.
Rico grabbed his phone to call her, then changed his mind. She might be having a lie-in. Back in his chair, an even darker thought took hold. Stacy and Martin might get together long term. What would he do then?
No, much better to stick to texts. He tapped.
Any chance of that Skype tour this weekend?
The reply was prompt; she was up.
Tomorrow? Will call you in the morning.
And a thumbs-up and a smiley. Just to show he was cool with that.
So what was she doing today – and was Martin involved?
***
Project Lakeside was going well. Stacy walked through the half-finished spa area, collecting a few abandoned coffee mugs and other bits and pieces that didn’t belong there, then closing the door on it for the rest of the weekend. The restaurant was open tonight and they only had fourteen bookings, so hopefully some locals would come in and swell the numbers.
Back upstairs, she was wandering around getting ready for today’s outing across the lake to the Christmas market in Friedrichshafen when her phone buzzed again. Heavens, another text from Rico.
Did you get the towel order sorted?
Stacy rolled her eyes. Some people didn’t know how to relax, and he’d mend better if he did. Maybe a quick convo would be best. She tapped to connect to Rico.
‘Hi, Stacy – how’s my hotel?’
He sounded pretty upbeat, anyway. ‘Everything’s on schedule, but the company we ordered the towels from has emailed there’ll be a delay. I cancelled the order, and we’re waiting for an estimate from another place. I think it should be fine. Worst case, I’ll pop up to St Gallen and buy some there.’
‘Sounds like you’ve got it all in hand. Um… doing anything nice this weekend?’
‘Eva and I are going to hit the Christmas market at Friedrichshafen. Any tips about that?’
‘Don’t forget your euros. Market traders don’t always take Swiss Francs even if the shops all do. And go early – the boat’ll be packed.’
‘That’s what we’re doing, though Eva says it’s best late afternoon when it starts to get dark and all the lights are twinkling. She’s working in the restaurant tonight, though, so we have to be back before then. I have to go, Rico, she’s picking me up in five minutes. We’ll do the Skype tour tomorrow, huh? Say hi to Ralph for me – and take care!’
Rico disconnected before she could, and Stacy stared at her phone. The towels order wasn’t urgent. Had he had an ulterior motive with that text?
Half an hour later, she was standing on the top deck of the ferry looking back as Romanshorn grew further and further away. And man, it wasn’t half cold, even though they were out of the wind here at the rear. The views were worth freezing for, though. The Alpstein range was spread before her eyes, snow-covered against a perfect winter blue sky, the S?ntis towering over the lower peaks. How different it looked from the first time she’d seen it from the lake, the day she and Emily had done a boat trip. Then, the mountains had been starkly grey against the sky. Today they were dazzling white – the winter view was better, and definitely more Christmassy.
Eva kept up a stream of conversation in careful High German, and Stacy replied as well as she could. This outing was going to be one long German lesson, but that was what she needed. The hours she’d spent with Kim and Ben were helping her Swiss German, and the online class was concentrating on grammar and the written language. It would be interesting when her real-life classes started too, but that wasn’t until January.
They disembarked at Friedrichshafen and walked along a lovely lakeside promenade. Little market stalls with all the usual Christmas things were set out, sprawling into the neighbouring streets in town and up over a kind of park area too, and all the time there was the view of the mountains in Switzerland and Austria to their left. This was lovely. Stacy bought some gloves as Christmas presents for her family, and two packets of Christmas cards. Just think, in a few short weeks she’d be back home in Elton Abbey for the Christmas holidays.
Eva was taking her job as tour guide seriously, telling Stacy all about the Zeppelin Museum and the Zeppelin round trips you could book in summer – for a small fortune, but it might even be worth it. Stacy, sipping her mulled wine on the promenade, glanced across to the Swiss side of the lake. Imagine the mountain views you’d get from a couple of hundred metres up in a Zeppelin, not to mention the full extent of the second largest lake in Switzerland. She should start saving up.
At half past two they were back on the boat again, sharing a bag of hot chestnuts and watching as the German bank grew distant. Stacy held on tight to the special, festive feeling. She would be home in time to run to the minimarket in Grimsbach to buy some Christmas paper, then she’d spend the evening wrapping the presents she’d bought. Bring it on.
Eva parked at the hotel and vanished into the restaurant to start her shift while Stacy rushed along the road for her wrapping paper, then came back more slowly. It was lights on for Lakeside now as the restaurant got ready for the evening, but much as she loved the place, it was nice to have spent so long right away from her job today.
She jogged up the steps into the hallway and stopped. Flowers, wow. An enormous bouquet was on the floor, propped up against the dustsheet-covered reception desk. Stacy peeked into the protective paper – roses and carnations and long purple blooms she didn’t know the name of. Oh – there was a card. She pulled out the little envelope, which had ‘Stacy’ written across it in flowery handwriting.
The card had a single red rose on the front, and inside:
Thank you for a lovely evening on Thursday. Looking forward to the next time! Martin xxx
***
Rico strolled round his uncle’s boatyard just outside Lugano. Dad had dragged him here after his afternoon rest, and how ancient did needing an afternoon rest make him feel? Of course, Ralph hadn’t done any physical dragging; he’d merely chivvied and pestered until Rico gave up the idea of a nice peaceful, if boring, Saturday afternoon at home.
But coming here was a good idea; there were different things to think about at the boatyard. It was the time of year when most cabin cruiser and virtually all yacht owners had their boats ashore, to avoid winter damage. Guido had been working on a very swish yacht indeed, and Rico smiled wryly as he checked out the gleaming woodwork of the interior and the state-of-the-art deck. Must be nice to be a millionaire.
His phone rang as he was wandering along the accessories shelves at the back of the yard, and he eased it out of his back pocket, still a painful procedure. The brief hope that it could be Stacy was immediately dashed. Hell, no, it was Vreni. If he didn’t take this she would only call again.
Ralph and Guido were busy in the office, and the couple of people in to look at boats wouldn’t care about him. He tapped to take the call.
‘Rico, how are you?’
Her tone was like a middle-aged woman inquiring after the health of an elderly neighbour.
He put on his briskest voice. ‘On the mend, thank you. How’s Grimsbach?’
‘Chilly, as you’d expect. You’re in the best place, you know.’
Now the elderly neighbour might be unwillingly in a nursing home. Rico upped his good-mood vibes.
‘Another week and I’ll be fighting fit and back at Lakeside.’ Clichés were the order of the day, somehow.
‘That’s wonderful, but please don’t rush things. I’ll have a lovely cosy dinner waiting for you as soon as possible when you do get back.’
Yikes – how to get out of that? ‘Thanks, but I won’t be doing much socialising at first. I’ll need to get the go-ahead from the doctor before I do anything, um, ah, much.’ Rico cringed. He’d been about to say, ‘anything strenuous’, but that could definitely be misinterpreted, and knowing Vreni she’d do just that.
Her laugh tinkled down the phone, and he cringed again. He would have to tell her that anything she imagined might be going on between them definitely wasn’t, but he couldn’t do that on the phone.
‘Don’t worry, Rico. Dinner isn’t socialising, is it?’
‘Ah, possibly. Dad’s calling me, Vreni – I’ll see you when I’m back. Sometime.’
He ended the call and switched his phone right off to be safe. How on earth had he got into this mess? The woman he wanted wasn’t interested, and the woman who was interested was… Vreni. And with his ribs the way they were, he couldn’t even heave a sigh about it. Bummer.