Chapter Twenty-Three
Thursday, 16 th November
Kim wandered home through frosty streets. She’d taken Eli to kindergarten, then deposited Ben at his little friend Oskar’s house and had a chat with Oskar’s mum Marianne, who was in a similar job situation to her. They’d agreed to share child care, to give the other a good block of free time to do whatever – like work for a whole morning without having to rush to pick someone up from playgroup or kindergarten and cook lunch and entertain them for the rest of the day. Oskar was down for playgroup in January too, and Kim was going to contact the people who organised it and ask for the two little boys to be put in the same group.
She let herself into an abnormally quiet house and made coffee. Whatever happened, she’d be able to start work after the New Year. Tobias couldn’t object to Ben being at Marianne’s for an hour or two a couple of times a week. Even at Ben’s age, kids needed to socialise with their peers, and one day, they were going to have to put the fear and horror of Eli’s accident last summer behind them, otherwise they’d end up smothering their kids. In a weird way, this was probably easier for her than it was for Tobias, because he was the one with least daily contact to his boys. He wanted to feel he knew where they were and who they were with all the time – but life wasn’t like that.
Kim spent an hour in the dining room going over her supplies and ordering a few things that were running low, then sat tapping one finger on the table. Working here at home, ninety-nine point nine per cent of the job was nails. She enjoyed giving manicures, but it would be nice to do more facials and make-up again, and she didn’t often get the chance here at home.
The job at Lakeside, it wouldn’t do any harm to find out more about it. She went through to the kitchen to get her phone.
‘Hi, Stacy – is this a good time?’
‘Yup. I’m busy loading the builders’ tea break cups into the dishwasher. Not so fascinating. What’s on your mind?’
Kim grasped her phone. ‘About the beautician job – you said it wouldn’t be full-time, but what kind of hours were you thinking of?’
Stacy didn’t sound too sure. ‘It’s pretty flexible, and we’d need the person to be flexible too. It would be just a few hours to start with, building up to whatever it needs. And there might be evening work, too, sometimes, if we have a party or big event people want to dress up for. Are you interested?’
Kim’s sigh came all the way from her boots. This was what you called having a faint hope dashed before you’d allowed yourself to hope properly.
‘Interested yes, but from what you say, it wouldn’t work for me.’ Imagine if the hotel had a run of summer weddings or the like, and make-up was needed for six people every afternoon all week. She couldn’t take that risk; any job she took would need to have more specific hours.
Stacy wasn’t finished. ‘Have a good think about it. Another thing to consider would be the room. The hairdresser and the massage therapist are both renting their space, which means the hotel gets rent money from them, but they don’t get paid by us, if you see what I mean. It means they can bring in their own clients as well as hotel guests. Ideally, we’d like the beautician to work to the same system.’
It was the final nail in the coffin. Kim slumped down at the kitchen table. She had rent-free space for her business right here at home.
‘Okay. I’m afraid it’s a step too far for me at the moment. I can still be first reserve, if the person you find needs a few hours off at any time.’
‘Here’s hoping we can sort something out in the future, huh? When both your boys are at school?’
Kim laughed. ‘Hope so – but that sounds as if you’re planning to stay for the duration!’
Stacy’s voice was startled. ‘It did, didn’t it? But I guess I’m not.’
‘Never say never. Remember what happened to me and my one-year job in London that ended up being five.’
Kim ended the call. Was it wrong to hope that Stacy would be part of her life for years to come?
***
The hotel doors swung shut after the builders left at lunchtime, and Stacy went into the office behind reception. Judging by what she’d said, Kim was unlikely to be taking on the job as hotel beautician, so they should readvertise ASAP. If she did it today, the ad would run at the weekend. But what a pity about Kim.
A text buzzed into her phone – oh! Rico.
How’s your first week in charge of Lakeside going?
Stacy grimaced. ‘In charge’ was on paper only. Andi was the one who was running this show. Mind you, that wouldn’t have been any different if Rico had been here and fully fit, so she didn’t need to feel inferior about it.
All ok tho weather still slowing outside work. Tubs coming next week. How are you?
His reply came a moment later:
Discharged tomorrow. Send Lakeside pics. Doing anything nice this weekend?
Ah – a personal question, and she was back to wondering where she was with him. Was he still hoping for more than she wanted to give him – or give anyone? But she’d worked out with Emily that she was ready to forget David Dastardly and move on, hadn’t she? Stacy stuck her chin in the air. She was moving on – she had a date tonight. And there was no reason she shouldn’t tell Rico about it, was there? He was her friendly boss, after all.
Dinner with Martin tonight, Kim’s tomorrow night, maybe Xmas market on Sat. All go!
This time there was a longer pause before his answer came:
Sounds fun. Enjoy!
Stacy tapped out:
Take care of your ribs and come home soon!
Ah – that could be misread. She deleted come home and inserted get well , and sent the message. A thumbs-up came in reply. Good. Right, she had a job to finish before she was done for the day.
She put the beautician ad into all the same places it was in before, and left the office feeling virtuous. Another day on the build was over, and wow, she was going out for dinner. She was locking the front door when car headlights swept round from the main road to shine on the bushes at the side of the front door. Karen got out, and Stacy unlocked the door again. Judging by Karen’s jaunty posture and the spring in her step, things were going well for her daughter.
‘Evening, Stacy. I thought I’d come by to tell you I’ll be able to start work again next week. Melanie’s been given the all clear, and she’s going home tomorrow. I might have to juggle my hours here if she needs me on Tuesdays or Thursdays, but that wouldn’t be a problem, would it?’
‘Not at all. I’m so glad it’s going well for her again.’ Stacy smiled rather nervously. This didn’t seem like the same woman who’d been so brusque for the past few weeks, but worry could do that to you.
‘Oh – and I’ve found someone who’d like the beautician job. I take it Kim Burri isn’t applying?’
Ouch. What had Karen told this person? She’d known full well Kim was considering it. Had she done this deliberately? But surely not.
‘Kim isn’t hopeful. I’ve readvertised, so would you like to ask your person to send in her application? We’ll run interviews as soon as we can.’
They didn’t have much to chat about, and Stacy locked the door behind Karen a few minutes later. Being alone here was such an eerie feeling, especially when it was dark outside. It was as if the old chalet was waiting for something to happen – which in a way, it was.
Grasping her torch, Stacy switched off the provisional hallway floodlight and started up the stairs. Thank heavens she had her date with Martin tonight; she’d had enough of being home alone all evening in a deserted hotel.
A message pinged into her phone as she was unlocking the flat door. Martin.
Still okay for tonight? Looking forward to it!
Stacy tapped.
Fab – see you at seven!
She dived into her room to choose her outfit. An evening eating lovely food in a cosy restaurant and listening to more of Martin’s stories was exactly what she needed. Hopefully he’d be more in control of his aftershave tonight, but come to think of it, that meeting had been the only time he’d overdone it. Guys were allowed to have wardrobe malfunctions too, weren’t they?
At five to seven she was stamping her feet on the pavement outside the hotel grounds and hoping Martin wasn’t going to be late. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and the wind from over the lake felt as if it was coming straight from Siberia. Stacy banged gloved hands together. She should have waited inside and dashed out when she saw the car. Ah – was this him? A car was slowing as it approached, and she bent to see inside. There he was, looking very Mr Darcy-ish in a dark coat with a shirt and tie just visible at his neck. Good job she was wearing her posh black trousers and the green top she’d acquired from Kim’s friend. She climbed into the car, and Martin pulled away from the kerb, treating her to a flashy smile.
‘Great to see you, Stacy – how’s the renovation going? And how’s Rico?’
‘Rico’s doing well, and so are the renovations,’ said Stacy, relaxing into the passenger seat. Ooh – what pity they were only going into the village. Martin’s car had heated seats.
‘That’s good news.’
He was quieter tonight, concentrating on the icy road during the two-minute drive to the restaurant, then taking her arm as they crossed the snow-covered car park. Stacy was glad of the support. Her boots were slipping all over the place; she’d need to get some proper winter footgear.
Inside, they were shown to a table by the fireplace, and Stacy smiled at Martin. This was lovely, and judging by the way he was looking at her, he thought it was pretty nice too. The waiter was quick to bring a carafe of house wine, and Stacy was pleased to see that she understood what Martin said to him. Her Swiss German was coming on now. She beamed across the table at Martin.
He winked at her. ‘Tell you what – we’ll alternate languages. One topic in German, the next in English!’
Stacy laughed. ‘I hope you don’t mind short topics in German, that’s all!’
In the end she was surprised how well she managed. He was a good teacher, chatting slowly in German about his childhood in Lucerne, and Stacy even managed a few questions before she told him (in English) about growing up in Elton Abbey. They discussed music in German – more or less – and holiday destinations in English, and wow, she hadn’t laughed this much for, oh, for ages. And the odd whiff of aftershave coming from the other side of the table was very pleasant… At the end of the evening Stacy insisted on splitting the bill, and Martin agreed graciously.
‘Next time, it’s on me,’ he said, helping her on with her jacket. ‘And you can do the honours another time.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Stacy. Tonight’s dinner had been the best thing for a long time. At some point in her life, she was going to have to get back into the dating game, and this was a good start. No way did she want to end up everyone’s favourite maiden aunt. She wanted to fall hopelessly in love and have a clutch of cute kids and live happily ever after. Like… her parents flashed into her head, then Emily and Alan, then, oddly, Ralph and the shadowy figure of Rico’s mother.
The snow was thicker now, and Martin took her arm again, ushering her into the passenger seat before going round to the other side.
‘I know it’s a – school night, that’s what you say, isn’t it?’ he said, as they approached the dark shape of the hotel. ‘We’ll save the coffee for another time, shall we?’
‘Good idea. I’ve had a lovely evening, thank you for suggesting it,’ said Stacy warmly.
He drove up to the door, then escorted her into the hallway and gave her elbow a little squeeze as he pecked her cheek – once. ‘I’ll wait in the car until I see the lights go on upstairs – you can use the lift!’
Stacy laughed. She’d told him about the stair-climbing. ‘You’re a gentleman. Thank you.’
He smiled. ‘I’ll be in touch. Sleep well, Stacy.’
A few minutes later, Stacy waved from the living room balcony as his car reversed away and turned into the road. He’d been the perfect dinner companion, warm and funny and attentive and considerate. She was looking forward to ‘another time’ already, wasn’t she?