Authors: Minna Howard
A Winter Affair
Minna Howard
About
A Winter Affair
With a recent divorce and empty nest Eloise Brandon is facing Christmas alone until a harried phone call from her godfather changes everything.
Accepting his challenge, Eloise finds herself en-route to Verbier and to her godfathers chalet in the beautiful Swiss Alps to help cater for some seriously rich, high rolling guests.
What ensues makes it a Christmas to remember. A heady alpine mixture of old friends, ex-husbands, mega-rich, super demanding guests, a dishevelled proprietor and Bert the dog.
In affectionate memory of Maurice Gard who taught us to ski and love and respect the mountains.
One
Eloise had written three Christmas cards before she realized her mistake, but old habits die hard.
Love from Eloise, Harvey and the twins
. But Harvey wasn't here and would not be coming back. She tore up the cards and threw them into the bin and then gave up on the whole idea; she would not be sending cards this year.
She sat at her desk in the still unfamiliar room of her new home in Wimbledon, struggling to repress the ache in her heart. Through the window she saw the driver of the supermarket delivery van wheeling cases of wine and boxes of goodies to number 27 ready for the Christmas celebrations. She better go and buy her turkey breast, pudding for one and wine and chocolate to eat while she immersed herself in box sets, she thought wryly. This year she'd be home alone for Christmas for the first time in her forty-three years.
The telephone rang, cutting through her thoughts. It could be the twins calling from Tibet. She answered it full of hope. Her spirits fell a little when she realized it was not them but Desmond Maynard, her godfather, calling from his sunny home in Antigua.
âWhat are you doing for Christmas, my dear?' his voice boomed from across the world.
She'd told him all about her divorce. Perhaps he was going to ask her to stay with him for Christmas. Her heart rose as she pictured warm beaches and soft seas. She hadn't seen Desmond, her father's best friend, for a couple of years, he was good company and she'd always been fond of him. Knowing him, he'd even offer to pay for her ticket, which he could well afford, so she wouldn't feel bad about accepting. Now he was alone without Maddy, his beloved partner, he probably yearned for company at this emotional time of the year. She'd be happy to read to him, go on walks in the lush countryside and swim in the sea with him. So maybe her Christmas wouldn't be so bad this year after all.
âI haven't decided yet, Desmond. The twins are in Tibet. I'm going to catch up with them in the summer when I visit my parents in New Zealand andâ¦' She was about to accept the invitation he had not yet given when he interrupted.
âGood, there's trouble at the chalet. Lawrence is tearing his hair out, he's had to sack two already and he has a big Christmas party for very important clients and is at his wit's end and doesn't know what to do.'
âSack who⦠and what's it to do with me?' Eloise was puzzled. Desmond had inherited an ancient chalet in Switzerland from his parents' years ago and had given it to his son Lawrence, who was mad about skiing and mountains and now ran it as an expensive holiday let.
âA
chef
.' Desmond almost shouted as if her ears were defective. âThe one he had left unexpectedly⦠in a private plane with one of the guests. I warned Lawrence not to employ any attractive women, but he wouldn't listen. But I was right and he was wrong: she made a beeline for some rich tycoon and ran off with him, leaving poor Lawrence in the lurch at this crucial time.'
âI'm sorry, butâ¦' Eloise began, but Desmond went on, his voice getting louder and more strident.
âAnd the last two chefs that arrived couldn't cook an egg, but you can: you're cordon bleu trained and you cook wonderfully and are reliable⦠aren't you?' he demanded.
She was shell-shocked: she hadn't seen Lawrence for years and hadn't much liked him then. Had Desmond told him she would cook for a chalet full of people without even asking her first⦠and assured him that she was not attractive enough to lure away any passing zillionaires?
It was years since she'd done the cordon bleu course and it was only a Foundation one, which in no way qualified her as a chef. She tried to explain this to Desmond, but he stopped her mid-flow, his voice calm as if he were soothing a wild animal.
âMy dear, I've no doubt you've been through a terrible time with your no-good husband, but you need to keep your wits about you, not waste away picking over every painful detail. Lawrence is frantic, he needs a chef at Jacaranda from now until early January and you've just said you're free and you can cook. He'll send you the fare and you'll have a wage, board and lodging and even time to ski. Surely you'd jump at the chance?' He sounded peevish.
âYou've sprung this on me, Desmond, let me think about it.' She was stung by his remark about wasting life while she agonized over Harvey's departure. It was true that she had lost much of her confidence over her divorce and no longer having the twins at home, and so making the two main points to her life â being a wife and mother â redundant almost simultaneously.
âBut what
are
you doing for Christmas, Eloise. You sound as if you haven't got anything planned,' Desmond went on.
âI'm not sure, I've just moved house andâ¦' She was not going to say curl up with box sets and books and eat chocolate, which suddenly seemed very tempting, hiding away to nurse her wounds.
âThere you are then, problem solved. I'll tell Lawrence to ring you at once. Jacaranda's a lovely chalet⦠of course you know, having stayed there with me and dear Maddy and your parents⦠and didn't you all come one Christmas when you and Joanna were children? Oh, what good times they were. I wish I wasn't so old and infirm and could ski those slopes again.' He sounded wistful. He went on, âYou'll love it, you know you will, all those stunning mountains and powdery snow.'
âOh Desmond it's just thatâ¦' but he cut her off once more.
âYou can do it, Eloise, I know you can. Goodbye, my dear, and thank you.' He rang off, leaving her reeling.
She couldn't possibly cook for a chalet full of rich, discerning guests, no doubt plagued with food fads. She must contact Lawrence at once and tell him that his father was mistaken. But she didn't know his number, unless by some fluke she could find it from the times she'd stayed there years ago. She remembered the one Christmas she'd spent there as a child, with her family when she was about ten. A truly white Christmas with lashings of snow and she and Joanna making snowmen that lasted the whole time they were there. They'd given them names and been quite sad to leave them behind when they went home. She'd loved it, it was a truly wonderful place, but she hadn't had to cook for difficult millionaires used to the very best.
And yet it would be something different to focus on. Hadn't she promised herself that after the divorce, when she was an independent woman again, she'd take on new challenges? Change the rhythm of her life so she wouldn't feel so bereft.
This last year had passed in a mist of pain and confusion with Harvey â who, she admitted, had been making for the exit for some time â finally leaving her, escaping the confines of marriage to âfind himself' as he put it, lured away by a large-breasted âsex toy', as she thought her. Then, almost harder to bear, her beloved twins Kit and Lizzie, set off on their gap year to the other side of the world, relieved, she couldn't help thinking but not blaming them, to escape their parents' explosive break-up.
It had been a strange sort of marriage, she admitted now, watching yet more boxes being trundled across to number 27. However many people were they going to entertain? Certainly more than her if she stayed home alone as she'd planned. Against all the odds their marriage had lasted just over twenty years, though early on, when the twins were babies, to keep her sanity, Eloise had forced herself to turn a blind eye or, rather, not delve too deeply into what Harvey got up to when he went away on his business trips. He worked in the travel industry, which mostly involved beaches and the occasional ski resort, and these, with their skimpy clothing at one, and ski bunnies at the other, provided many opportunities for bedroom sports that she suspected Harvey indulged in. He adored the children and always came home to them, until they grew up, and were bitten by the travel bug, and soon after their father left they set out into a wider world, leaving their nest empty.
She soon realized, or perhaps more likely accepted, that she was not enough for her husband. In fact since he had put on weight and his beautiful features were sinking into flabbiness he seemed to be more determined than ever to prove that he had not lost his power of seduction. The pain tugged tighter as she replayed the scene when he'd told her that he'd always love her, but he felt it was time â he made it sound like a supreme sacrifice on his part â for
both
of them to move on, breaking her heart.
She was twenty-one when they married. It seemed a long time ago. Harvey was twenty-eight. His parents had died in the same year, she remembered, and Harvey, their only child, had been born late in their marriage and no doubt spoilt rotten. He probably needed a home and someone to care for him, which she probably overdid, loving him so much⦠too much. When the twins were born two years later, and she had to spread her care for him more thinly, he could get quite grumpy if she couldn't give him her full attention when he expected it, though he did adore his children.
When she first met him, Harvey, encouraged by his friends, wanted to be an actor. With his dark smouldering eyes and manly torso, everyone said⦠well anyway his friends, he'd surely make a perfect romantic lead and even be a contender to play James Bond. But though he was animated in normal life, he became as wooden as a puppet in front of a camera or on stage.
He tried modelling and Eloise still recalled, with a lurch of sick embarrassment, the time she'd gone to a smart lunch given by one of her girl friends from school. The women boasted about their husbands who were bankers, lawyers, politicians or doctors. When it came to her turn, she sort of panicked and bleated out that her husband was a
lingerie
model, causing shrieks and gasps of incredulity. She hadn't meant to say it but explain he was modelling at the moment â in between acting jobs â true his speciality seemed to be swimming trunks, but he had also modelled an occasional suit. Regardless, this profession hardly featured in the same class as medicine or law. But in time â after he'd swapped the acting world for the travel world â when she'd met these other women's husbands, she saw Harvey was by far the best-looking and far more exciting, and when some of their marriages broke down it was Harvey the women sought out to console them.