A Winter Affair (11 page)

The tone of her voice infuriated Eloise. She'd overheard Lawrence telling Theo about the old wiring and she'd noticed that the bathroom she'd used on the first floor was looking tired, but she wasn't going to agree with Aurelia. ‘Jacaranda looks fine to me. It was properly built and has far more style and class than any of the newer chalets I've seen. Apart from the kitchen but…'

‘I planned the kitchen and it's exactly what you need if you're doing this job professionally,' Aurelia said icily. ‘Cosy kitchens provide cosy cooking, which any discerning guests definitely
do not
want.' She tossed her head in the air and walked away.

Eloise let her go, she'd sensed a touch of desperation in her voice, perhaps she'd hoped her ‘Tempting Delights' would win over Lawrence. What did Aurelia feel for him? He was attractive, more than Eloise remembered, but then he'd been very young and arrogant when she'd last seen him. Did Aurelia care for him or just want to get her hands on Jacaranda?

Eloise wanted to fight for Jacaranda herself, stop Aurelia muscling in and changing it – and snatching Lawrence, a small voice said inside her, though she hurriedly dismissed it. Somehow he touched her heart, but that was just foolishness; it was Jacaranda and all the happy memories it held for her that made her want to fight. But when she returned home, it would leave the path clear for Aurelia, who she feared was already well ahead with her plans to move in.

If only there was something she could do to persuade Lawrence that Jacaranda didn't need Aurelia in order to be successful. Eloise was going home in a few weeks, would she have time to persuade him to keep Jacaranda in the family?

*

She finished her shopping and drove slowly back to Jacaranda, her shoulder still throbbing, although it was almost better now.

Eloise's heart sank when she arrived at the chalet and saw Aurelia's red sports car parked in her place. She struggled to control her frustration. Jacaranda's fate wasn't anything to do with her, she reminded herself as she heaved out the shopping. If Lawrence wanted to keep Jacaranda, he had to run it as a business and go with the flow of today's requirements. Her sentimental memories were not part of the plan.

There was a Christmas wreath on the door and when she went in she saw the tree wedged in the hall, still in its netting; it had arrived. She clumped along the passage to the kitchen, dumping down the box of groceries. There was no sign of Aurelia or Lawrence. Vera was having a cup of coffee and she insisted on helping carry in the rest of the shopping. As they passed the stairs down to the lower floor, they could hear Aurelia's voice drifting up to them from Lawrence's office.

‘But if you really want to make a success of Jacaranda, Lawrence, you've got to up your game. Believe me, I know these sorts of people; they come to my shop all the time. They don't want sausage and mash and shepherd's pie.'

‘And nor will they have it,' they heard Lawrence say, but they were back in the kitchen, out of earshot, before they could hear Aurelia's next set of instructions of how to turn Jacaranda into a place to tempt the rich clients.

Vera muttered, ‘That woman's always telling Lawrence what
she
wants. But the people who come here always seem happy with their holiday.'

‘The guests arriving today though are very rich and spoilt. They're already disappointed they didn't get a more luxurious chalet to stay in over the holiday,' Eloise told her.

Vera shrugged, ‘Everyone who comes here is very rich. They are only people, and we will take them as they are. You do good food and the place is clean and comfortable and the mountains are beautiful, that should be enough.'

‘You're right, it should be.' Eloise had the same thoughts as Vera, finding it incomprehensible that people coming to this lovely chalet should complain. But for Vera, who'd told her a few facts about her life – how she'd been in circumstances where she hadn't known where the next meal was coming from or where she would sleep that night – such dissatisfaction was unforgiveable.

A few minutes later they heard Aurelia leaving. ‘So take my advice, I know what I'm talking about,' was her parting shot, sending an icy blast of air down the passage as she opened the front door to go outside.

Lawrence came into the kitchen; he appeared uneasy. ‘Oh… Eloise, could I have a word with you… if you're not busy,' he added as if he hoped she was and he could put it off.

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach, had Aurelia persuaded him her ‘Delights' were better suited to these multi-millionaires? Well, she would not go without a fight.

She followed him down to his office. He stood back to let her go in and shut the door behind him, which she took as an ominous sign that he didn't want Vera to hear him dismissing her. She sat down and faced him.

He stayed standing, one hand fiddling with his mobile that lay on the desk. ‘Aurelia was here and…' he began, his eyes fixed on the papers on his desk as though they held some vital information.

‘I know. I saw her in the butcher's; she made it quite clear that I am not up to cooking for the clients arriving today. I suppose you want me to go home and she will provide you with her Tempting Delights instead.' There she'd made it easy for him, she half rose to leave.

‘No,' he looked stricken, ‘that's not going to happen. I'm sorry.' He raked his hands through his hair, his face anguished. ‘I shouldn't burden you with this, but Jacaranda needs a lot spent on it, those dull but necessary things – plumbing, rewiring. I should have done it before, but somehow I kept putting it off. These clients coming today are very important in ensuring Jacaranda's future, but they wanted a far more luxurious chalet than this one, so it's not going to be easy to satisfy them, and if not…' He left the sentence hanging in the air, clearly anxious about the alternative.

‘We'll just have to be extra nice to them then,' Eloise tried to raise his spirits. ‘I promise there'll be no sausages and mash.'

He smiled, guessing she'd heard Aurelia's comments, and just for a second Eloise felt they were united, their eyes catching in a moment of intimacy.

‘Sorry to snipe at you, Desmond, but I've things to do before these clients arrive.' Lawrence felt bad about interrupting his father's questions as he waited for the first lot who'd arrive from the heliport.

Aurelia's warnings still buzzed in his head like an annoying wasp. It had been partly due to her that he had got on the agency's books, as they were very particular on whom they included in their list of luxury chalets. Some people, as the firm's representative told him when he came to inspect Jacaranda, did like the charm of the older chalets, though they still expected the highest quality of care. He needed to attract the upper echelons if he wanted to succeed in this ever more competitive business and carry out the repairs Jacaranda sorely needed.

‘I'll bet Eloise's cooking is better than that poncy stuff some of the exclusive restaurants kid their clients is what they should be eating,' Desmond said with feeling. ‘I'd hate to see the sort of people poor Jacaranda has to put up with today – with more cash than taste. I don't suppose I'd like them.'

‘Unfortunately they are the ones with money and to keep Jacaranda going we have to cater for them and they expect the best.' He knew he sounded impatient but really he didn't need his father's views at this moment on something he didn't understand.

‘If dear Maddy was there, she would know what to do,' Desmond said mournfully. ‘She knew how to make the place happy and comfortable. She just had a feel for it.'

‘I know, but times have changed, Desmond,' he said quietly, knowing how much his father still missed Maddy, he missed her himself.

‘For the worse,' Desmond said sadly, and after telling him to send Eloise his love, he rang off.

He heard the front door open, announcing the arrival of the first batch of guests. Being occupied with his father's call, he hadn't moved the Christmas tree in time and he hoped they'd get into the hall. Doing his best to ignore the squeeze of anxiety, he shut a disappointed Bert in his office before going upstairs to greet them. Franz, the taxi driver he often used on these occasions, stood by the open door and two men and a woman came into the chalet.

‘Welcome,' Lawrence pinned a smile onto his face. The woman was the first in, sidestepping the tree, moving into the hall and leaving room for the others to follow her. She was very young and beautiful, dressed in a short fur coat with a matching pair of honey-coloured earmuffs, which she took off now, shaking out her blonde hair while she looked round the hall with interest.

For a moment he saw the hall through her eyes and though he loved the pictures and the old wooden skis on the wall by the cuckoo clock – which told the time but no longer cuckooed – he now thought it rather untidy, almost shabby, though she didn't remark on it, just smiled, exclaimed at the warmth and took off her coat. Vera had tidied out the cupboard by the door, so some of the coats could go tidily in there.

‘Come in out of the cold,' he said to the others, knowing their names in his head but not knowing who was who.

He took the young woman's coat, wondering if he should put it in the cupboard, or take it to her room. He'd never worried about this before but these people could make or break him. The two men had come in and were also looking round, squeezing in past the tree. If only it had arrived yesterday, as he'd been promised, then Aurelia would have decorated it. She was not free to do it today, but she had promised to come tomorrow, but he was annoyed it was delivered so late when he wanted everything to be perfect for these guests, and he hoped they wouldn't grumble to the agency about it.

He snatched a look at the men: one middle-aged with a weary look of someone who was always being called upon, the other was younger, tall and rather gangly, reminding him – for some odd reason – of a heron, with his long legs and pointy face, though he had beautiful blue eyes.

The two men looked around dispassionately, not seeing the charm of the place. No doubt they'd feel happier with something more lavish that shrieked money – minimalist probably, with a strange lump of something classed as ‘art' carefully arranged in a prominent place – the sort of thing that the new chalets were doing.

Lawrence led the young woman into the main room where a fire blazed in the grate, giving the room a focus, a warmth that made her exclaim with pleasure and go towards it, hands outstretched.

‘How lovely,' she said and smiled at him and he felt better, wondering how she fitted into this group. He only had a list of their names and this young woman had been added at the last minute.

He turned back to welcome in the men while Franz brought in the luggage – expensive cases that looked as if they had never been used before and most likely bought especially for this trip.

‘Travis Ormond,' announced the short middle-aged man who had not much hair when he took off his fur hat. He stuck out his hand towards him and Lawrence took it.

‘Lawrence Maynard,' he said, ‘welcome to Jacaranda.'

‘Thank you.' Travis followed the girl into the main room, scrutinizing it as if he were a potential buyer, prowling round the room examining the pictures on the walls.

The ‘heron' man – unmuffled from his winter clothes, high-necked ski jacket, hat and scarf – had a pale morose face, and a thatch of dark hair. He sloped into the room almost as if he was incognito. Lawrence supposed he was one of those rich people who lived in terror of being robbed, or challenged about the amount of money they had, while so many in the world went without. If being rich was so painful, Lawrence was glad he was not, though he needed more money to keep Jacaranda going.

‘Welcome,' he smiled at the man, his hand ready to clasp his, but the man only nodded, thrusting his hands in his pocket as if afraid to be contaminated.

‘Jerry Simpson,' Travis gestured towards him, ‘and this is Gaby' – he nodded towards the young woman – ‘his fiancée.'

‘Hi,' she said, throwing herself down on one of the chairs, ‘what a journey, thought I'd be sick in that helicopter. I'll go back with the others in the minibus.'

‘Would you like some tea, or something stronger, or to go straight to your rooms?' Lawrence asked them. These first hours were always difficult while the guests got their bearings and settled down… or not, as the case may be.

These three had requested single rooms, while the two couples about to arrive with Theo from the airport had asked for doubles. In fact, all the bedrooms on the upper floor were double, though some had two single beds, which did for people who wanted a room on their own.

‘Tea please,' Gaby said.

‘Tea with a shot of brandy to warm me up,' Travis said, still prowling round the room, reminding Lawrence of an anxious, moth-eaten wolf he'd once seen at the zoo.

‘Thank you I'll have the same,' Jerry said, sitting down on the arm of Gaby's chair, staring into the fire.

Lawrence left the room and went down the passage to the kitchen to ask Vera to take tea into them.

When needed, Vera became a parlourmaid. She enjoyed the role and Lawrence paid her extra for it. She waited at table and hung about ready to iron any clothes as required, and even would have unpacked for them if the clients requested it.

She was in the kitchen washing up at the sink – he could never get her to put everything in the dishwasher – while Eloise arranged some untidy mince pies on a plate, the mincemeat having escaped from the base, leaving brown, sticky trails on the pastry during the cooking. There were some home-made biscuits and a sponge cake with vanilla icing standing ready for tea.

Eloise looked up when he came in. ‘Have they all arrived?' she said, her eyes searching his face to gauge his reaction.