Chapter 23
23
Waking up after another good night’s sleep is a luxury I’m starting to get used to, even if my dreams were filled with a chaotic mix of my parents trying to kill each other, and me trying to write a book while a giant nipple tassel chases me down the street – no prizes for guessing what’s on my mind.
And all of this happened only when I did eventually fall asleep, that is. Last night it wasn’t easy. My call with Tom about my parents has left me feeling a bit on edge. Are things really that bad at home? Are they really over? Perhaps when I get back I can help, even if it’s just to smooth things over and establish a new normal. But, God, I wish they would stay together. I’m sure Mum would be fine, but Dad? Who is going to take care of Dad? He isn’t going to know how to look after himself, let alone find someone else to do it for him. Bloody hell, I certainly am not going to become the person who ends up cooking and cleaning for him – I’d end up killing him.
As I stretch out in the luxurious bed, I realise just how well rested I feel despite the late night. This bed is heavenly, and it’s doing wonders for my sleep quality – I wonder if the same bed could work the same magic back home, but I doubt it, I think perhaps it only works in the Alps where everything is peaceful and the air is so clear. Maybe.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me that my body has already adapted to the two-breakfast way of living. I’ve slept in a little today, so my stomach is clearly demanding I put something in it already.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door, interrupting my thoughts. I quickly throw a jumper on over the vest and shorts I slept in before I answer it. Today restarts the ticker on the number of days it has been since I last flashed my underwear at anyone. Let’s start as we mean to go on.
‘ Bonjour ,’ a cheerful voice greets me as I open the door.
Oh, God, it’s Henri. I bet I look like a mess – bed hair, sleep still in my eyes, the whole messy works.
‘Oh, hello,’ I reply brightly, trying to style it out. ‘How’s it going?’
I lean on the door frame, trying to look casual, but probably just looking weird.
‘I’m very well, thank you. How are you?’ he asks, his smile warm and genuine.
‘Yeah, can’t complain,’ I say, mentally reminding myself to rein in the chipperness. No one is this chipper, this early – especially not me.
‘I was wondering if you’d like to go for a walk around the resort with me,’ Henri says. ‘I can show you the sights, see if any of them inspire you to write. It would be nice to set a book here, no?’
I can’t hide my smile. I’m not doing anything on purpose, not trying to play the tropes to my advantage, and yet he still wants to give little old me a tour of the place.
‘I’d love to,’ I reply. ‘Just let me get dressed.’
Henri grins.
‘Great! I’ll treat you to breakfast while we’re out,’ he tells me. ‘So we can leave right away.’
My smile widens even more.
‘Okay, sure, I’ll be ready in a few minutes,’ I tell him.
‘I’ll wait downstairs,’ Henri says. ‘Feel free to use my bathroom, knowing it’s safe.’
‘Oh, I much prefer it when you’re in it, keeps me on my toes,’ I dare to joke.
Henri chuckles.
‘I’ll see you downstairs,’ he replies.
I close the door and start excitedly rummaging through my suitcase for something to wear. After a few minutes of deliberation, I settle on a cosy yet stylish outfit – a pair of skinny jeans, a warm sweater, and my really big scarf to snuggle up behind. I quickly run a brush through my hair, slap on enough make-up to look somewhat presentable, and then head downstairs.
Henri is waiting by the fireplace in the hallway, looking effortlessly handsome in a casual yet well-put-together outfit. I wonder if I’ve seen him wearing clothes more times than I’ve seen him in a towel yet…
He smiles when he sees me, and my heart does a daft little flip, because I’m only human.
‘Ready to go?’ he asks.
‘Ready,’ I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel.
We step out into the crisp morning air, the chateau looking as picturesque as ever in the daylight.
‘I’ll drive us,’ Henri says, nodding towards his sleek black 4x4.
‘Great,’ I say, relieved to save myself a trip along the road. Imagine falling in front of him? I’d never live it down.
Henri opens my door for me, ever the gent, and when I sit down on the seat I realise that he has pre-warmed it for me.
‘Okay, let’s go,’ Henri says, as he puts on his seat belt.
Did I mention things like this never usually happen to me?