Chapter 2
2
Seven weeks before Christmas
‘Hey, you’re home!’ I jump up from the sofa, swallowing the remnants of the Lindors in my mouth. I’d been seeing if I could get six in while I was waiting for Daniel to get home from work. I’ve kept myself busy rearranging the furniture in the apartment. I’ve been out and walked around the lake, and gazed into the expensive shops, as I have every day this week since we arrived. I’ve sent photographs back to Raquel and Marianne, introducing them to my new life. I’ve got into a routine, leaving the house after Daniel. Even stopping for a hot chocolate, which was lovely, if eye-wateringly expensive, drinking it as I looked out over the lake. I’m getting my bearings. I’ve enjoyed walking on my own in the cold, bright sunshine, but by the time evening comes, I’m ready for company.
My course doesn’t start until next week, and I can’t wait. It’ll be fun, making some Christmas gifts, getting a real taste of Switzerland. Chilling out and tasting chocolate, finding out how it’s made, drinking hot chocolate and making new friends. But for now I’m settling in. I wish I wasn’t doing it on my own, that Daniel hadn’t gone straight to the office in the afternoon of the day we’d flown in, after picking up the keys to our amazing apartment. It’s built of stone, and is French-looking on the outside. Inside it’s simple, but elegant and modern, with long windows leading out onto a balcony and the bustling city street below. I’ve spent hours over the last couple of days just watching the world go by. Trams, bicycles, motorbikes and mopeds, minibuses and cars are all vying for space. Work is starting on the Christmas lights across the road and in the shop windows, the building blocks for what I imagine will be wonderful when it’s finished. It’s busy and everyone has somewhere to be right now … except me. I’m just trying to feel at home in a new country, a new apartment, with a new partner, and it all feels a bit weird. I’m going to have a very different Christmas in the heart of this city.
I throw my arms around Daniel and get a gentle whiff of lager mixed with his expensive aftershave. I feel a dip in my excitement, wishing he’d wanted to rush home to me straight from work. Clearly there’s been a detour on his way home, but he’s moving to a new area too, and wants to get to know his colleagues. It’s fine, I tell myself. I was just eager to see him, which is a good thing. It reminds me that I’m where I want to be, with the man I want to be with. I mustn’t be needy. We should have separate friends and interests. Relying on him for company could be very off-putting. When I was with Ben, it was just him and me. He didn’t like me doing things without him. It became smothering. But Daniel and I are grown-up. We’re in this together. I have my course to start and friends to make and he has colleagues to get to know. But now that he’s home, I want us to go out and explore together!
‘I’ve been practising my French all day with people I’ve met,’ I say in a rush, keen to let him know that I’ve been busy, not just waiting for him to come home. ‘There’s been Davide the doorman, people in the bakery and the young woman who served me hot chocolate this afternoon.’
‘You and your hot chocolate!’ He laughs. ‘It’s not good for you, y’know!’ He gives my stomach a little squeeze.
For a minute I’m not sure if he’s joking.
He slides his arm from around me, heads to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of red wine. I follow him.
‘I thought we could go out this evening. I’ve seen this amazing restaurant. Their desserts look insane. Or we could take a walk around the lake, maybe do a boat trip. Or there’s a rooftop bar I’ve found for drinks. It has amazing views,’ I say excitedly, and follow him back to the living room.
‘And about the languages here. Did you know Switzerland has four official languages? French, German, Italian and Romansh, an older language still spoken in the mountains.’ I sound like an online encyclopedia, but I’m excited to be sharing what I’ve discovered. I’ve already bombarded Raquel and Marianne with all these details. I’m just keen to embrace everything about my new home.
Daniel flumps down on the white sofa by the long French windows, which are covered with swathes of white netting. He pulls at his tie and flicks off his leather shoes.
It’s not like the chalet in Heidi that I was expecting when he suggested I move to Switzerland with him. But it is a very expensive apartment, with Davide, the friendly concierge on the door downstairs who knows my name, and a housekeeping service that cleans the rooms and changes the laundry every week. It’s a long way from my little terraced house with the Co-op at the end of the road for late-night emergency snacks.
I disappear into the kitchen and come back with a plate of cookies, which I put on the coffee-table in front of him. ‘I thought I’d get in some practice before my course starts.’ I look at him for a reaction, but don’t get one. He’s checking his phone with one hand and holding his glass in the other. ‘They’re reindeer cookies,’ I add, suddenly a little embarrassed, in case it isn’t obvious. It’s been a long time since I’ve baked, cooked or created anything in the kitchen. It wasn’t like getting back on a bicycle as I’d imagined. ‘And I’ve seen some new mugs we could buy for the apartment. Start making the place our own. I know I’m gabbling,’ I say, and I’m about to apologize but I stop myself. I’m excited to see him, that’s all. He’ll understand. I want to tell him everything I’ve seen today, the cobbles in the old town, the spa by the lake and the naked cold-water swimmers. I want to tell him about the pieces I’ve seen in the shops that would help make this our home.
He looks up at me. ‘Sorry.’ His smile is very attractive. ‘Just shattered,’ he says, holding out a hand to me. I take it. ‘It’s tiring, settling in.’
‘Oh.’ I let go of his hand. I hurry back to the kitchen and return with a plate of macarons I’d bought when I was exploring the local chocolate shops in and around the old town. I tried so many chocolate samples that I’m not very hungry, but I would like us to go out. ‘I thought we could go out for fondue.’
He holds up a hand. ‘You’ve done nothing but feed me since we got here. I have to watch my waistline. Especially with all the corporate dinners I’ll be going to.’
I lower the plate to sit beside the reindeer cookies, hoping he’ll be tempted later. He pulls at his tie, tugs it off and drops it onto the table on top of the macarons .
He looks at the empty Lindor box where I’ve been sitting. ‘Maybe you should get a job in a chocolate shop … Looks like you could be keeping Mr Lindor in business at this rate!’
He laughs, but I feel unsettled, as if he’s judging me. I grab the empty box and crush it. There was something comforting about the chocolates, a taste of home reminding me of Raquel and Marianne. Before I knew it, the contents had gone. Now I feel dreadful.
‘Just … homework for my course,’ I say, wishing I hadn’t said anything. So what if I ate a box of chocolates? I enjoyed them. Why do I feel the need to justify myself?
Suddenly I feel a huge gap between us. I don’t know this man at all. I’m in a foreign country and I don’t know anyone. I’ve made a big mistake.
‘Hey!’ He stands up. ‘I was just joking! Sorry, look, come here!’ He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head, reassuring me. ‘Honestly, I was just joking! We’re still getting to know what makes each of us tick. It’ll take time to adjust to being here, living together. Neither of us has done this before. Well, you have, I haven’t!’
And again I feel the tiniest niggle, scratching at me. Yes, I’ve lived with a partner, and I know you have to work at it. I want to work at this. We’ll have to find our way through. It’ll be fine, I find myself saying again.
‘And your course starts next week. You’ll be sick of the sight of chocolate! Just don’t bring so much home!’ he jokes, but I’m still smarting from the Mr Lindor comment.
‘I’m having a cookie,’ he says, reaching down to the plate, flicking the tie to one side. He’s right: I do love chocolate and I love it here. I cannot wait to start at college. It’ll get better then, I know it will, and I smile at him.
‘Let’s skip dinner and go straight to bed,’ he says, and my smile widens. At least we know where we stand there … or should I say lie? I let him take my hand and lead me to the beautiful big bed, leaving the outside world behind.