Chapter Three
Sunday, 28 th May
E mily jerked awake, sweat running down her hairline. That awful dream, it would kill her one of these nights. Talk about your worst nightmare ever – and it was always the same one. Sam was behind the wheel and they were driving along, and he was laughing and joking like he always did, and she kept saying, ‘mind the road, Sam, slow down, it’s icy’, just like she had that day – but of course he didn't. That was where the dream lost touch with reality, because something in Sam’s face would change; it was as if he turned into some kind of malevolent, threatening caricature of himself, laughing across at her, taunting her, I’m going to destroy you and you can’t stop me. Then it was back to reality as terror gripped her; they were going too fast, too fast, Sam, slow down ! Then the car spun off the road and flipped over, and darkness was everywhere and she couldn’t get out; she couldn’t move. All she’d heard in reality that day were her own screams, and Sam’s. In the dream, she was the only one screaming while wild laughter came from Sam. And that was where she’d wake up. You didn’t need to be a psychologist to work out she was still seriously stressed about the accident .
Emily wiped a damp palm across her face, and glanced across at the other bed. Stacy was fast asleep, breathing regularly with her face turned towards Emily. The room was dim, because they’d closed the wooden shutters on the French doors, and there were no streetlamps on this side of the hotel anyway. Faint slits of light shining through the shutters made her think there must be a moon out there, though. Emily pushed herself up on one elbow and reached for her phone. Four o’clock. She’d be dead later if she didn’t catch more sleep. Thanks again, Sam.
For a wonder she managed to drop off again, and woke at seven to sunlight slanting through the shutters. Stacy was still sleeping for England, so Emily got up quietly and limped into the en suite. The sun was splitting the skies outside already, good – that was what they wanted for their boat trip. She’d have first shower, then she could take her time getting ready while Stacy was whizzing around like greased lightning as usual.
By half past nine they were sitting on the terrace, eating warm croissants with raspberry jam, and actually, this was lovely. Emily hugged herself. If their holiday continued like this, it would be the most fab thing that had happened to her since… since forever. The sky was powderpuff blue above the darker shades of the lake, and you could see it was going to be a real belter of a day. Emily looked around cautiously, but Alan was nowhere to be seen. Hopefully, Stace wasn’t going to get any weird ideas about flinging her and Alan together. He might be a nice bloke and okay, he’d given her a few glances yesterday, but after the six months she’d just lived through courtesy of Sam, she wouldn’t care if she never went out with another guy as long as she lived.
Stacy drained her coffee cup and brushed flaky croissant crumbs from her top. ‘Isn’t this perfect? Let’s go for the earlier boat.’
‘Lead the way!’ Emily grabbed her stick. No reason not to, was there? She was on holiday and she was going to have a good day if it killed her.
The first leg of their trip was no problem at all. Even walking like snails, Grimsbach station was a mere ten minutes away, though they did have to negotiate a little hill that Emily’s knee wasn’t too keen on. The train spat them out at Rorschach harbour where their boat was waiting, a big white passenger ferry that could have been on a tourist poster. In fact, it probably was on a tourist poster somewhere…
Emily settled down on a bench on the lower deck while Stacy went to the cafeteria for iced tea to sip as the boat chugged down the lake. The water was smooth as a mirror, and the views of the Alpstein mountains were every bit as spectacular as Alan had promised. Stacy made a video, then passed her phone over for Emily to see it. Wow. They’d wanted Switzerland, and here it was.
Emily sighed happily. ‘Are you going to send it to David? Did he get back to you yesterday?’
‘To David and Mum, and yes. He texted Have a great time! and a smiley just before I went to bed, so he must have been working all day after all. I wish he had more time for himself – and for us. I’d love him to see all this too.’ She waved a hand at the mountains.
‘That’s medical school for you. You should come back with him on your honeymoon.’
They sat admiring the scenery as the ferry chugged on down the lake, stopping now and then to let people board. At half eleven, Stacy went up to the café and fetched more iced tea and long pastry concoctions. Emily swallowed hard. She was being waited on again, and while the scenery was amazing, she and Stacy were behaving like a couple of great-great-grandmas on holiday, sitting and eating and watching the world go by. For a moment she slumped, then gave herself a shake. She was an ungrateful cow, feeling so frustrated when Dad had given her this holiday and Stacy was being so good.
‘Eat that pastry, woman,’ said Stacy sternly. ‘We’re here to fatten you up, you know.’
Emily managed a giggle, then there was another half hour of stop-go boating before they disembarked at Kreuzlingen harbour, which wasn’t a harbour at all, more of a boat-stop. She limped off the ferry, managing to keep up with the crowd of people disembarking. And oh my, where on earth had they landed? No shops, no cafés, no nothing except a huge park with a kiosk and a mini-golf course. What on earth were they going to do here?
***
Stacy gaped around the park. The other tourists from the boat were either heading off up a long steep hill or into the park with their kids. Steep hills were out of the question, so she led the way over to a bright red bench at the edge of the children’s playground. Time to consult with her phone and see what their options were. They sat down while she tapped around and opened a map, but apart from walking round the park, there didn’t seem to be anything to do near the harbour. The town with its shops and cafés was quite a bit away. Bummer, they should have found out more about the place. The only thing to do was make the most of it, though, so lunch, then an earlier-than-planned trip home might be the best way.
‘Wonder if – and when – we’ll be doing something like this with our own kids?’ she said idly, nodding at a little family picnicking under a nearby tree and fanning herself with her hand. Shade was in short supply here.
Emily sniffed. ‘You and David might be soon, but a family feels like a long way off for me.’
Stacy winced. Zero out of ten for tact, Stace. She slipped her arm through Emily’s. ‘Don’t worry, Emmy-love. Just because scumbag Sam showed his true colours doesn’t mean all men are the same. You won’t be single forever. Okay, how about grabbing that spare tree, then I’ll see what the kiosk can offer us for lunch?’ She pulled Emily to her feet without waiting for a reply, and they moved under the tree.
‘I’m still stuffed. Just crisps and a drink for me,’ said Emily, lowering herself to the ground and leaning back.
Stacy jogged to the kiosk by the gate. She should be active while she had the chance, because at this rate, they’d have consumed an entire week’s calories in one day. She joined the queue and bought two cans of fizzy orange and two packets of crisps and returned to Emily, still searching for an idea. They couldn’t sit under a tree for an hour and a half until the first boat back up the lake arrived, and somehow, the special ‘Swissness’ of their holiday was gone here. This park looked exactly the same as the one she crossed every day at home on her way to work. From where they were sitting, you couldn’t even see the lake.
‘Tell you what,’ she said, handing over Emily’s share of lunch. ‘We’ll do a bench crawl. Look, the path over there has benches every so often. We’ll walk and then sit, and repeat until you want to turn back. It’ll be good training for you.’
The downside to this plan was that the benches were all in full sunshine. Stacy collapsed onto the ninth bench as a message pinged into her phone. A few words from David would cheer her up like nothing else would. But what did you know, it was from Mum.
‘People talk about golf widows. I’m a medical widow even before my wedding,’ she said, showing the text to Emily.
‘It’ll be better when you’re married, and working in a hospital again.’ Emily dabbed a tissue over her face.
Stacy shrugged, tapping out a breezy reply to her mother. That was the problem – another hospital job wasn’t what she wanted, and it was going to turn into a whole new conflict with David, too.
‘Let’s go back to the harbour,’ said Emily, standing up. ‘Okay, I’m supposed to be in training. I want to walk all the way back to the kiosk without stopping, and you needn’t look at me like that. I have to get better, Stace. If nothing else I want to be fit enough to kill Sam if I ever see him again. He’s ruined this year for me and God knows if I’ll ever be fit enough to be the active kind of teacher I was before. Sorry. Rant over.’ She moved away from the bench.
Hell… Em was worried about her job. The school had said they’d keep it for her until after summer, hadn’t they? All Stacy could do was stroll along beside Emily, sweat running down her face and her heart sinking with every step. This was dire. Emmy was redder than an overripe tomato and leaning ever more heavily on her stick, but that little speech stopped Stacy even suggesting a rest. Why, oh why had she thought this was a good idea? Thirty-plus degrees, no shade and a friend with a wonky knee, and all she’d found to suggest was a long walk. She needed her head examined. Poor Emmy.
Fortunately, they reached the kiosk before either of them conked out, and Stacy heaved a sigh of relief. She left Emily wilting on yet another bench and went for cold drinks, apprehension churning around in her stomach. Emily’s face was drawn and the hand holding her stick wasn’t quite steady. Stacy joined the queue at the kiosk and fished for her purse. All she wanted now was to get Emily back to the hotel for a lie down, and the train was the quickest way. This was no good; they would have to rethink their programme for the week.
The kiosk lady spoke English, and obligingly called them a taxi to the station as well as supplying chilled mineral water, and forty minutes in the train saw them safely back in Grimsbach. Stacy held onto Emily’s free arm as they walked the short distance back to the hotel, and never had she been so glad to walk in someone else’s front door.
Alan was in the hallway talking to the receptionist, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw Emily’s face. ‘Come on. There’s a chair in the shade waiting for you on the terrace, and I know just the long drink to beat the heat.’
Stacy followed as he ushered Emily to a shady table near the bar then went to make their drinks. At least someone in Emily’s world was being helpful.
To Stacy’s relief, the breeze off the lake and a cold, vivid blue drink revived Emily. She even managed to be funny telling Alan about her energy nose-diving in the park.
‘I’m supposed to be strengthening my legs, but the heat here’s making me feel like a melting jelly baby. A red one.’
Alan leaned across the table. ‘Why don’t you – hell, there’s the boss-man’s son on the prowl again. He arrived yesterday and he’s spent the day biting people’s heads off. Better do some work. I’ll be back!’
Stacy looked across to the tall young man who was walking around with a clipboard and examining tables and chairs on the almost-deserted terrace, a frown on his good-looking face. After a while he vanished back inside, and Alan returned to perch on the chair beside Emily.
‘Listen up. You’re here to recuperate after your op,’ he said. ‘But that’s not all, is it?’
Stacy could see Emily’s hackles rising. What on earth was coming now?
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, as Emily evidently had no intention of replying.
‘Well, you can train your muscles with exercises and so on just as well at home,’ said Alan, looking uncertainly at first Emily and then Stacy. ‘I’m guessing your dad meant you to have a good time too?’
‘Not so easy when your legs are like sticks of over-boiled spaghetti,’ snapped Emily. ‘You’re right. I should never have come here.’
Stacy jerked in surprise as Alan snapped right back.
‘Rubbish! All you need is a wheelchair to take with you on your outings. That way, you can walk as much as you want to, and still get around the place and be a normal tourist.’
‘I didn’t see a single normal tourist in a wheelchair today.’ Emily propped her elbow on the table and leaned her chin on her hand, gazing out across the lake, her eyes shining suspiciously.
Stacy reached across and tapped Emily’s arm. It wasn’t the most tactful suggestion, but Alan was right.
‘It’s a good idea, Em,’ she said gently. ‘You’d be able to do so much more. Maybe we could hire a chair.’
Emily sniffed, her mouth quivering. ‘I suppose so. Sorry, Alan.’
‘Here’s Mr Happy again,’ said Alan, as his boss’s son reappeared with his clipboard. ‘Let’s ask him. Rico!’