A Slippery Slope (15 page)

‘What? Why on earth not?’

‘It’s jewellery, darling and it’s too ... personal. It’s something
you buy for ... Well, it’s inappropriate, that’s all.’

‘Bullshit!’ Lucy said. ‘I’d accept it if he’d given it to me.’

‘Oh you would, would you? Weren’t you the one who was so worried
about what people might think if you went out with Etienne, now that you know
he’s rich?’

Lucy frowned. ‘Yes. But what’s that got to do with you accepting a
bracelet from Josh?’

‘People may get the wrong impression.’

‘Who? Only you, me and Josh ... and possibly Etienne, will know
who bought it for you so I don’t follow that argument at all. Unless you mean
that if you accept it, Josh may be the one getting the wrong impression – but I
still don’t get that. It’s just a bracelet, and although it is gorgeous, it’s
hardly diamonds or anything. It’s just a Christmas present, Mum! And to put it
in perspective, these gloves probably cost about the same – if not more – and
I’ve got no intention of giving them back!’

‘But all we bought him was that T-shirt and a rather garish scarf!
I thought he’d just buy us a little token present but he’s spent much, much
more on us.’

‘It’s not a competition, Mum. It doesn’t matter who spent what.
Oh, I think I can hear stirrings from upstairs. The guests are getting up. We’d
better start breakfast.’

‘I’ll do that. You phone Etienne. Even I can manage to make Buck’s
Fizz and a Full English Breakfast.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Verity
couldn’t believe how quickly the day was going. Breakfast, which usually
started at eight and was over by nine, began later today and she and Lucy were
still clearing up at ten. Beds had to be made and all the other chores done,
despite it being Christmas Day, and the evening meal took longer to prepare
because turkey and all the trimmings was an even bigger pain when you were
cooking for sixteen other people, besides yourselves. Especially when three of
those people were vegetarians and that meant also making a nut roast.

On a ‘normal’ day, the guests were eager to get to the slopes
after breakfast but these guests – a group of sixteen family and friends – had
brought their own Christmas presents on holiday with them and wanted to open
them first. They finally headed out at around twelve-thirty, leaving their own
mountain behind, in the form of discarded wrapping paper. Verity didn’t mind
that, but she was soon cursing them over the hundreds of tiny pieces of
Christmas confetti that was embedded in the rug, sofas and cushions.

She and Lucy finally took half an hour to relax over a sandwich
and a glass of champagne at around three o’clock.

‘So what did Etienne say?’ Verity asked. This was the first chance
they had had to talk since before breakfast.

‘Not much actually.’ Lucy emptied her glass in just a couple of
gulps. ‘God, I needed that! Who’d believe it’s Christmas Day?’

‘Whoever invented that Christmas confetti needs bashing over the
head with a cold turkey. The bloody stuff is everywhere! Anyway, Etienne?’

‘Oh. I told him that I was very drunk and I couldn’t remember
anything at all about last night and that I hoped I hadn’t done anything I
might regret. He hesitated for a bit and then he said, “Nope. Nothing at all –
although I can’t remember much myself so that’s no guarantee.” That was it. I
told him that Josh had dropped in and might pop by later but that we would be
busy all day here and we are both planning on having an early night.’

‘So basically, you told him you don’t want to see him today then?’
Verity said, grinning.

Lucy shrugged. ‘Sort of. But then I remembered that we’d got him a
silly T-shirt too, and he said he’s got us both a little something. He asked if
he could drop by when the pistes close because he’s out with guests all day. I
had to say yes, didn’t I?’

‘Of course you did. So that means he’ll be here around afternoon
teatime.’

Lucy’s phone rang and she glanced at the screen. ‘It’s Dad. He
left me a message earlier. Do ... you mind if I take this?’

‘Of course not, darling. I’ll go and get mine. I expect your
Grandma has left several messages too.’ Verity headed for the bedroom. That was
one conversation she didn’t want to overhear.

She was right about her mother. Laura had left her six messages.
She dialled her number and took a deep breath.

‘Merry Christmas, darling,’ Laura said. ‘I’ve been calling you all
morning. You weren’t joking when you told me that your boss is a slave-driver.
Or have you and Lucy been out having fun? I’ve left her a couple of messages
too.’

‘Merry Christmas, Mum. I wasn’t serious about the slave-driver bit
but we have been working virtually nonstop until now. We started later this
morning and there’s loads to prepare for Christmas dinner this evening. Have
you had a good day so far?’

‘Not particularly. Bertie bought me a new vacuum cleaner thingy.
One of those lightweight rechargeable jobs. What an absolute idiot the man is!
No one in their right mind would buy me a domestic appliance – especially not
for Christmas! He’s definitely got to go. I’ve decided to tell him about that
little dalliance I mentioned to you. That should set the ball rolling. What
about you, dear? Have you heard from you-know-who?’

‘Mum! If you mean, Tony, no. But he’s speaking to Lucy right now
as it happens. And you can’t tell your husband on Christmas Day that you had a
fling with your dance instructor. That’s really unkind.’

‘Darling, the man bought me a vacuum cleaner! Do I really need to
say more?
That’s
unkind! We clearly have nothing in common. Telling him
will probably be a blessing.’

‘What did you buy him?’

‘An annual membership of the Golf Club.’

‘But ... I didn’t think Bertie played golf?’

‘He doesn’t. I bought him lessons too. And I had to pull some
strings to get him in, let me tell you. Not that he seemed to appreciate it any
more than I appreciated the vacuum thing. You see. Nothing in common. Even the
sex is boring. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him. I want to hear all your
news. I’ll call Lucy again later but if I don’t get to speak to her, tell her I
transferred her Christmas money online into her bank account the day before
yesterday. And yours – into our ‘secret’ account of course, as usual.’

Verity sighed deeply. ‘Thanks for that, Mum but you really
shouldn’t keep putting money into that account for me, especially now that I’ve
got the money from my former employers. I don’t need it, and Tony won’t try to
cheat me financially, I’m sure ... if it comes to that.’

‘If it comes to that? The man has left you for some young
strumpet. Of course, it’ll come to that! He wants to sell the house and he’ll
want a divorce. And if he doesn’t, then you certainly should! I do hope you’re
not deceiving yourself into thinking that you may get back together. And as for
the account, I told you the day I opened it that I’d be putting money in it
every year on your birthday and at Christmas because all
women need to
have a separate nest egg just in case. And I’ll keep making deposits until you
and Tony are divorced!’

‘Thanks!
I wondered when we were going to have the ‘I told you so’ conversation. And no,
I’m not deceiving myself that we’ll get back together. I think his texts made
his intentions clear but it is early days yet and ... anything could happen. I
just–’

‘You
are! You’re actually holding out some hope that he’ll dump the strumpet and
come grovelling back to you! Oh darling, please don’t do this–’

‘That’s
enough, Mum! I don’t want to have this conversation, especially not on
Christmas Day. I know you mean well but it was bad enough that you opened that
account for me in the first place – and made me promise to keep it a secret
from Tony, let alone telling me about it on my wedding day! And yes, you were
right. He is leaving me as you said he would all those years ago, but we have
been married for twenty-one years so I think we both deserve some credit!’

‘Fine.
And I’m not going to say, “I told you so”, darling. I’ll even admit that it
lasted a lot longer than I thought it would, but you’ve always known I’ve never
really liked Tony, so there’s no point in either of us pretending otherwise.
The money is there and it’s yours. I won’t say another word about it.’

‘Fine.
Thank you.’

‘So,
have you met any nice men in Meribel?’

Verity
hesitated for a second too long, partly because she was amazed by her mother’s
thought process.

‘You
have!’ Laura said with genuine excitement in her voice. ‘Ooh! Tell me all about
him. What’s he like in bed? There’s nothing quite as exciting as that first
time with someone new and–’

‘Mother!
We’re not all sex mad you know! I haven’t slept with him yet ... I mean ...
there isn’t anyone. There are several very attractive men out here – it’s that
sort of place. You’d love it. But I’m not seeing anyone. And as much as you
dislike the fact, I’m still a little in love with my husband!’

‘Well,
of course you are. You’re the loyal type, I know that. But you must face facts
darling, and you’re not getting any younger. You should be out there having fun
and–’

‘And
jumping into bed with the first man who asks me – is that what you mean by
having
fun
? Surely that’s just having sex!’

‘Well
yes. If he’s good looking. And sex
is
fun, darling. Or have you
forgotten that? But ... what did you mean, I’d love it out there? Are there
several available men in my age group?’

Verity
tutted. ‘As you consider any man between the ages of thirty and seventy in
your
age group
, yes, there are hundreds of them.’

‘That’s
interesting. Although I’m not a great lover of snow, as you may recall. It’s
pretty to look at when you’re snuggled up in a chalet with some gorgeous hunk
but it’s not so pleasant by the time he starts to get on your nerves and you
have to battle arctic conditions just so that you can get to the nearest bar to
give yourself a five-minute break from him!’

Verity
tutted again. ‘Are you referring to husband number two or husband number four
in that statement?’

Laura
didn’t answer immediately and Verity wondered if, by some miracle, she’d
actually said something that had made her mother stop and think about her ways.
She should have known better though.

‘Both
of them actually, darling, now that I think about it. Anyway, despite your protestations,
there clearly
is
someone you’re keen on. I know you better than you
think. No! Don’t try to fool me. It won’t work. I know you never take my advice
and that’s probably just as well but I’m saying this because I love you more
than anything in the world, my darling. Don’t give Tony another moment’s
thought. If he does ever want to come back, you can think about him then. In
the meantime, enjoy yourself! Let your hair down for once and see what the
world has to offer you. Just take a chance. You may be pleasantly surprised.’

***

A
few minutes later, Verity marched into the kitchen, grabbed the champagne
bottle and filled her glass to the brim.

‘How
I have managed to get to forty without murdering my mother is beyond me!’ She
tipped back her head and emptied the contents of the glass in several gulps.

‘That
bad? Was she giving you another lecture about Dad?’

Verity
slumped onto a chair and let out a long breath of frustration. ‘She’s always
lecturing me about your dad. I’m not sure what she’ll do if we actually get
divorced. Perhaps she’ll still lecture me on spending so many years of my life
with him. What’s the matter? You look ... upset.’

Lucy
fiddled with the stem of her glass. ‘I’m fine.’

‘No,
you’re not. Is it Etienne? Oh! Is it something your father said?’

Lucy
bit her lip. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Lucy,
please. If something is bothering you, tell me. Please don’t feel you need to
keep things from me. If you’ve got something to say, say it.’

‘I miss Dad!’ Lucy blurted out. ‘I know I shouldn’t, but I do.
It’s ... it’s just because it’s Christmas Day, I think. I miss us as a family.
I even miss Grandma!’

Verity reached across, hugged her daughter tightly, and tried to
stop the threatening tears from falling. She blinked several times but even she
could tell her voice was full of emotion when she finally spoke.

‘Of course you do, darling. And you have every right to. I miss
him too and yes, I also miss my mum. Even though she’s just spent the last ten
minutes or so driving me insane. Christmas just doesn’t feel the same this
year. Not that it could, of course. We’re in a ski chalet hundreds of miles
from home, and we’ve spent most of the day working. But ... it doesn’t feel
like Christmas. It just feels like an ordinary day.’

Lucy sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘Exactly. Apart
from the presents Josh gave us, it’s been horrid. I think being here,
surrounded by snow and log fires and all the Christmas lights and stuff, and
watching all our guests with their friends and family opening their presents,
just made it worse. It all looks so Christmassy. So perfect. And it sort of
brings it home that it isn’t.’

Verity had to agree with that.

‘I know we were going to save our presents for each other until
tonight,’ she said, ‘but why don’t we open them now? We could both do with a
bit of cheering up before we have to get afternoon tea ready.’

***

Having stuffed themselves at afternoon tea with mince pies,
Christmas cake, vin chaud and brandy-laced hot chocolate, most of the guests
went to lie down, leaving only a few remaining in the sitting room ‘playing’
with their presents. There was no sign of Etienne or Josh and both Verity and
Lucy began to wonder whether they would see them now as it was six in the
evening and they all had Christmas dinners to either cook or attend.

When Lucy’s phone rang just a few minutes after six, they both
thought it was Etienne; but it was Joanna.

‘Hi Jo! Merry Christmas,’ Lucy said, having cheered up
considerably, possibly because she hadn’t had to face Etienne yet but more
likely because she was thrilled to bits with the new snowboard Verity had
bought her.

Verity wandered into their bedroom to give Lucy some privacy.

‘Hi babe! Same to you, with snowballs on!’ Jo said. ‘How’s your
day been so far? I bet you’ve been lazing by the fire drinking champagne and
stuffing your face with mince pies.’

‘How did you guess?’ Lucy said, laughing. ‘If only! We’ve been
slogging our guts out and we’ve got the whole Christmas dinner thing to go yet.
Mind you, it’s all under control – at the moment. I haven’t heard from you for
a few days. Still screwing Rich, the builder?’