Chapter Twenty-Eight
Saturday, 2 nd December
Why had she ever thought that driving in a left-hand drive would be easy? Butterflies were crashing around in Stacy’s tummy the following day when Ralph drove her to an almost deserted factory car park for her first attempts at changing gear with her right hand. They swapped seats, then she eased the car cautiously round the perimeter, made a few U-turns and practised parking sideways. And who’d have thought it, right-handed gear changes were no different to left-handed ones, and the foot pedals were in the same places so there was no problem there.
‘See, you can do it,’ said Ralph, crinkling his eyes at her. ‘Let’s go on the road now. You can drive along to Romanshorn, round the top roundabout, and back to Grimsbach.’
Stacy gathered up her courage, and they set off. The moment she turned into the road, though, a flutter of panic rose. The traffic was all coming from the direction she wasn’t expecting – and it felt so odd, keeping on the right side of the road. Sweating, she crept through the first busy junction, swaying across her lane then back again, hearing Ralph’s sharp intake of breath.
‘Steady,’ was all he said, but he was sitting straighter in his seat, his hand ready to grab the wheel.
Stacy’s heart was pounding as she continued along the route Ralph suggested, which definitely had more than its share of roundabouts. One was at the top of a fairly steep slope, and of course traffic was sluggish exactly there. Stacy stalled the engine as the queue crept forward, and she cursed under her breath. She had to get the hang of this.
By the time they were approaching Grimsbach again she was managing better and feeling more relaxed. She swept into the hotel grounds and pulled up at the side of the building as if she’d never driven any other way, and Ralph grinned.
‘You’re a natural,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you out again tomorrow, and you can practise around here during the week. Then all you need is someone to take you on the motorway the first time, and after that you should be fine.’
‘I don’t think I’d be happy driving on snow yet,’ said Stacy, walking beside him through reception.
‘Fair enough. But the forecast’s fine for the next couple of days.’
Back in the flat, Stacy lifted her phone, which she’d left charging in her bedroom. A message from Martin had come in, and she had a missed call from Kim. Better return that first. She tapped to call Kim’s number, and the other woman answered on the second ring.
‘Hi, Stacy. Two things – we’re having a Samiclaus party on Wednesday for the kids, so you’re invited to that, and Rico too if he’s well enough, and–’
‘A what party?’
Kim giggled. ‘Samiclaus. December the sixth, you know? Come at six-thirty and wear your warmest gear. We’ll be outside. And save the sixteenth for our trip to St Gallen to see the lights. That way, we’ll catch the Advent market too. That’s before you go home for Christmas, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, I leave on the twentieth. Lovely. But what’s a Sami–?’
But Kim had hung up. Stacy went back to the living room, where Rico was watching TV.
‘We’re invited to a Samiclaus party at Kim’s on Wednesday. What should I expect?’
To Stacy’s frustration, he laughed. ‘Wait and see!’
He was one big grin, but she wasn’t going to let him bait her. Stacy tilted her chin up. It would be something to do with Santa Claus, it must be, though she knew it wasn’t Santa who brought Swiss children their Christmas presents; it was the Christ Child. Oh, well. She would find out soon enough – in fact, she could ask Martin on Tuesday, couldn’t she? Sorted.
***
Rico shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold. The weekend was crawling past, with Stacy accepting another driving lesson from Ralph on Sunday morning – and this time, Rico went too, sitting in the back and uncomfortably aware that Stacy wasn’t enjoying herself one bit.
Ralph gave directions up to Heiden, which involved a steep and windy road. The views en route were pretty cool, though poor Stacy kept her eyes glued on the road most of the way, and Rico found his stomach churning in sympathy. Sunshine glinting through the trees wouldn’t be helping, and the snow still lying on the verges as they went higher reminded him of that trip down the San Bernardino. Possibly Stacy was thinking about it too; she looked grim enough.
Her handbag was beside him on the back seat, and her phone vibrated three times before they arrived back at Lakeside. Jeez. Were all these messages from Martin? Rico slumped in his seat. What on earth had prompted him to go on a bloody driving lesson he did not know; he’d had enough of that years ago when he’d been the one in the driving seat with Ralph beside him. He’d wanted to be near Stacy, that was all, and how pathetic was that? He heaved a sigh of relief when they arrived back at Lakeside, and trailed into the lift behind Stacy.
‘Um – your phone buzzed a couple of times when we were out,’ he said, trying to sound helpful and – there it was again – neutral.
She gave him an odd look. ‘Yes, I heard it. Thanks.’
‘How is Emily?’ Was it daft to hope those messages were from England?
Stacy gave him an even odder look. ‘She’s well. They both are. Alan’s enjoying his course.’
They arrived on the fourth floor, and she headed straight for her bedroom. Rico trudged into the living room and stopped at the sofa. In a parallel universe, he’d have flung himself down there and sulked, but people with bashed ribs didn’t fling themselves anywhere. He eased down, and relaxed slowly into the cushions.
He could still do the sulking bit.
***
Tuesday came at last, and yay, Martin was coming this afternoon. Stacy ran upstairs at lunchtime to check her make-up. He’d been very attentive over the past few days, if you could call frequent texts and the odd pic of Lucerne attentive. It would be great to be in the same room as him and talk in person, though it was a pity their first meeting since his illness would be in a business setting first. Worse still, Rico would be there too.
She wandered through the front hall and opened the door of the one-time storeroom that was going to be the domain of the massage therapist. Andrina Cavalleri was her name, and she was coming at two to see the ex-storeroom and say what they should do with it. A lick of paint at the very least was one hundred per cent necessary.
Andrina turned out to be a tall, leggy, twenty-something blonde, and forty minutes in her company convinced Stacy that here was another good addition to the new team at Lakeside. Andrina was efficiency in person, deciding on the spot what flooring and wall colour would be best, and she’d even brought pictures of the kind of furniture she wanted. Stacy promised to speak to Rico and send on a cash limit so that Andrina could choose her own massage table, then saw the other woman out and hurried back inside. Men’s voices were coming from the restaurant, and one of them was Martin’s.
He and Rico were getting up from their table, so their discussion must have been short and sweet.
Martin grinned at Stacy. ‘Good to see you again!’
‘Likewise. I hope you’re fully recovered?’
‘More or less.’
Stacy opened her mouth to enquire further, then caught sight of the murderous expression on Rico’s face and changed her mind. No matter what she thought about bosses who stuck their noses into their employees’ social lives, she and Rico had to work together. No point helping him start a war with Martin.
Apparently, Martin agreed. He walked out of the restaurant in front of Rico, blowing her a discreet kiss on the way then turning round in the doorway.
‘See you, Stacy.’ He winked the eye Rico couldn’t see, and pattered down the steps to his car, leaving Stacy smothering a smile.
‘No problem with the budget,’ said Rico briskly. ‘How did it go with Andrina?’
Good. They were back to being businesslike.
***
In the end, they went back to Amore for dinner. Martin was still coughing, though he was in good form, giving her his usual sparkly smile when she got into the car and asking all about how she’d coped alone at the hotel. He was one of those people with a gift for making you feel interesting, demanding details about her progress in German, and his manners were to die for. It was lovely being helped out of her coat when they arrived at the restaurant, and if the waiter hadn’t beaten him to it pulling her chair out for her, he’d probably have done that too.
Stacy sat down and accepted a menu from a waiter who was echoing Martin’s sparkly smile. Sudden and unexpected doubt rose as she read through the starters. It was good to be back here, yes, and Martin wasn’t putting a foot wrong – so why wasn’t her heart galloping along at about a hundred and fifty? Because… the attention was all very flattering, but somehow, this didn’t feel personal. He was telling her all about Lucerne now, and his family, but it was a conversation he could have had with anyone. Stacy played her part, talking about her own family and their stationery shop, but oh, help. Something here was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
He drove her back to the hotel at half-past ten and rushed round to open her door for her, but this time there wasn’t even a peck on the cheek when they said goodnight outside the hotel. Not that she wanted a peck on the cheek or anywhere else from someone who was still coughing, but… hm. In spite of the initial attraction and funky texts, she and Martin still needed time to find each other. Stacy waved as he reversed away again, then glanced up at the top floor, where the lights were burning. Rico was still up, then. But as he seemed to have decided she was a friend and employee only, things there were nice and uncomplicated. Long may that continue. Yes.