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Authors: Susan Buchanan

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor, #Romance

Sign of the Times (22 page)

BOOK: Sign of the Times
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Chapter Thirty Two

Breakfast at the Montana was a grand affair.
 
Lucy helped herself to turkey breast, ham and Swiss cheese, of which there was a fine selection.
 
Supplementing that with freshly baked bread and some watermelon, and after her regulation two cups of coffee, she felt ready to leave for Saas Fee.
 
She decided to call Carl en route.
 
Unsurprisingly she hadn’t called him last night.
 
She had crept out of Marc’s room at two, no note, no guilt.

Happy and sated, she set off on her excursion through the Alps.
 
Saas Fee was south of Lucerne, heading towards the Matterhorn.
 
It would be a spectacular drive.
 
She wasn’t disappointed.
 
Although the majority of her journey was spent on the motorways, she was still able to take in the beauty of the rivers, lakes and mountains.
 
Window down, letting the breeze drift in, as she cruised along, she was amazed at the tranquillity.

As Lucy came into Valais, she passed through the municipality of Stalden and the villages of Zen Eisten and Saas Grund, before finally taking her first glimpse of Saas Fee
.
 
It stood proudly two thousand four hundred metres above sea level.
 
There was a whole host of mountains she could ski down.
 
She didn’t think she’d been anywhere before where she had so much choice
.
 
The main place for après ski was Mekka Allalin, next to Mount Allalin.
 
Although she was fit, it had been almost a year and a half since she had skied and she harboured some concerns that she might not be fit enough.
 
But she was determined to give it a go.
 

As she drove into the village, she saw the signs for the central car park.
 
Saas Fee was car free.
 
You had to either reach the hotel by electro-taxi or have your luggage transported by handcart provided by the hotel.
  
She had called the hotel, so headed out front to look for the representative.
 

The hotel was centrally located, but in a quiet area, the way she liked it.
 
It lived up to its brochure pictures.
 
She was looking forward to some hard skiing, lots of après ski and the occasional spa treatment.
 
A young man, with floppy hair and distressed jeans was changing money at the reception desk.
 
Pounds.
 
British.
 
As he moved away, she stepped up to the desk and the receptionist’s attention turned towards her.

Flopping down on the bed, she kicked off her shoes.
 
The view was breathtaking.
 
The glaciers were all around her.
 
She wondered which of the impressive mountains was Monte Rosa.
 
The one with the jaggiest peak and no snow right at its very tip was Rimpfischorn.
 
Tomorrow she would find out.
 
She needed to hire some ski equipment too.
 
Right now though, she wanted to find out where to get some après
-
ski without going up the mountain.

Lucy took the lift down to reception.

“How may I help you, Madam?”

“Can you recommend some bars and restaurants please?”

“Yes Madam.
 
If you are looking for somewhere fun, Popcorn in the Hotel Dom.
 
If you wish somewhere quiet…”

“No,” Lucy interrupted her.
 
“Fun is good. Where is the Hotel Dom?”

“You cannot miss it.
 
It is right in the centre, opposite the church.”

Thanking her, Lucy pottered along until she reached the church, whose tower against the glacier background was awe-inspiring.
 
Looking left and right and then remembering there were no cars, she crossed the street to the Hotel Dom.

After ordering a beer, Lucy found a seat.
 
It was pretty busy, even in late afternoon. She had expected everyone still to be on the slopes.
 
The age group was quite mixed. Strange, she’d thought from the way the receptionist had talked that it would be a younger crowd, but no, there was an elderly couple ensconced in the far corner.
 
Her gaze fell upon a young couple, barely out of their teens, who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
 
Rolling her eyes, Lucy thought,
Get a room
.
 
As her mind wandered, so did her eye.
 
Her gaze fell on a familiar face.
 
The guy from reception.
 
Lucy reckoned he was in his twenties.
  
He had nice eyes, little bit of stubble, a bit scruffy, but cute with it.
 
He was wearing khaki combat trousers, with pockets on the knees.
 
A cream Aran jumper was slung around his neck.
 
Mmm, he wasn’t bad.
 
Just as she was giving him a thorough going-over, he looked up and caught her.

Shit.
She didn’t like being found out.
 
He smiled at her.
 
She tried to look nonchalant, but couldn’t pull it off.
 
Lucy
she chided herself,
will you never learn
?
 
She looked away.

“Hi. Do you speak English?”

He stood beside her.

“Sometimes.”

“Ah, you’re Scottish.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Yep.”

She was staring at him.
 
She was relieved when he interrupted her stupor to ask if she wanted a drink.
 
Looking at her full glass, she said “I’d love one.”

His eyes crinkled, he shot her an earth-shattering smile and went to the bar.
 
He returned a split second later, “Sorry, I forgot to ask, what would you like?”

“Gluwein.
 
I could do with being heated up.” Lucy replied lasciviously.

She waited to see if her double entendre would catch hold in his young mind.
 
He grinned and said, equally flirtatiously, “I think we can accommodate that.”

His name was Robbie and he was from the Midlands.
 

“Where are you from?” Robbie asked.

Lucy said, “Bearsden.”

“So, near Glasgow then?”

Surprised and impressed Lucy said, “Yes.
 
How did you know that? I didn’t think anyone knew where it was?”

“Well, you see, I’m not just anyone.”

“Who are you then?
 
What do you do?”

“Seventh son of a seventh son.”

“No way, you’re not a seventh son.”

“No, you’re right, I’m a student.”

“Of what?”

“Of life,” and smiling at her, he raised his glass. “Cheers.”

They chatted easily and were arguing good-naturedly about the best ski resorts in Europe, when Robbie bent over and kissed her.
 
The kiss deepened until they were in danger of being accused of inappropriate behaviour.
 
Breaking off, Lucy said throatily, “Not here.”

“I know.
 
Let’s go,” he agreed.

Nothing had been said, but their legs took them towards the hotel.
 
They were almost jogging.
 
Abruptly, Robbie stopped.
 
He looked into Lucy’s eyes with such a penetrating gaze, that she thought he could see right to the heart of her
.
 
Instantly they were all over each other, kissing frantically, in the failing light.
 
Her breathing ragged, Lucy finally pulled away.
 
She took his hand and they practically sprinted to the hotel.

They fell over the threshold, mumbled a hello to the receptionist, who eyed them curiously and tried to be relatively demure as they passed her.
 
Robbie searched for his room key, but Lucy said, “No, come to mine.”
 
She had a four poster and the room was practically designed for sexy encounters like this one.
 
She opened the door and they fell upon each other.
 
A button pinged off as Robbie’s furious fingers worked to undress her.
 
Lucy tugged at his belt and it fell to the floor.
 
Within seconds, they tumbled clumsily onto the bed and succumbed to what had been inevitable since the moment they met.
 

Afterwards, Lucy lay thinking about how good it had been, not great, it was never fabulous the first time.
 
You needed to know someone better, before their body responded perfectly to yours.
 
Although she hadn’t orgasmed, she had been close several times and she had enjoyed it.
 
So much so, she wouldn’t mind a repeat performance.

The second time was better.
 
It lasted ages.
 
She loved that; languorous, lazy sex after the first frenetic burst.
 
They took their time, exploring each other’s bodies.
 
She orgasmed, which surprised her.
  
When the church clock struck ten, Robbie said,

“I’d better get going.”
 
Miffed, Lucy said, “Right.”

As Robbie dressed, Lucy realised she didn’t want him to go, but couldn’t ask him to stay.

“I’ll see you on the slopes,” he said, and kissed her.
 
“You take care.”

The door closed and Lucy sat there fuming.
 
You take care?
 
Who says that to someone they’ve just screwed?
 
She was beside herself.
 
On the one hand she was mad, on the other, confused yet exhilarated, as he’d said he’d see her on the slopes. Did that mean he wanted to see her again?
 
Damn
.
 
Springing out of bed, she raided the mini-bar, to see if there was anything of use there.
 
Good, gin.
  
That’s what was needed right now, to help sort her head out, although she wasn’t sure what sort of perverse logic that was.
 
She sat on the swivel chair at the bureau and wondered what had just happened.
 
Why had this
kid needled
her so much?
 
Sure, the sex had been great, but she’d had great sex before.
 
It had never made her want to see someone again, as desperately as she wanted to see Robbie.
 
What if, for him, it had been a one off?
 
What if she didn’t bump into him again?
 
She’d never had these feelings of insecurity before.
 
She was always so self-assured.
 
What did that mean?
 
Sighing, she scoffed the last of the crisps, poured herself another enormous G&T and settled back under the rumpled covers.

Lucy could still smell him, his body,
 
his aftershave.
 
Her brain was in overdrive. She picked up a novel and started to read.
 
There was no way she was getting to sleep for a while yet.

Next day Lucy had a slight headache.
 
She pushed her breakfast around her plate, feeling queasy.
 
She looked around the dining room again.
 
No sign of him.
 
She wondered which mountain he would ski.
 
Was he alone?
 
Pushing her toast to one side, she went back to her room to change.

“Today, we are going to Mount Allalin,” said Jonas, their guide.
 
Lucy had signed up with a tour company, so that she wouldn’t be skiing on her own.
 
You needed someone to buddy you.
 
Wistfully she wished it were Robbie.
 
Following Jonas, they set off for the Alpine Express.
 

It really was a long way up.
 
The scenery was stunning.
 
No wonder it’s called
The Pearl of the Alps,
Lucy thought, as they climbed
.
 
There were some red runs up at Allalin that she could practice on, before moving on to the blacks.
 

When they reached the top, she slid around a little in her skis, trying to get used to them.
 
“Miss, what is your name?” Jonas asked her.

“Lucy.”

“One of our party is arriving late today.
 
I will be your buddy until then.”

“OK.”
 

They started off swishing back and forth down the first red run.
 
Wow, this was exhilarating, thought Lucy.
 
She really should make more time for this type of release. The air was so incredibly pure.
 
She zipped back down and around until she reached Jonas.
 
She was a good, competent skier and knew it, but he was superb.

“Ah,” said Jonas, as she returned to the starting point, “our missing person.
 
Hello Robbie.”

“Hi Jonas. You been up long?”

BOOK: Sign of the Times
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