AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Definitely,’ Xavier said, rubbing his hands together. ‘I’m starving. Take a seat and get ready to enjoy my famous fish stew.’ He ladled it out into two hand-painted bowls and sliced up the last of the crusty bread, as I poured us two tiny glasses of Fiano. What a feast.
‘You still haven’t told me your story, Holly,’ Xavier said lightly. ‘What brought you to Verbier? Adventure? Love? Heartbreak?’ His hair fell into his eyes as he chased a prawn onto a piece of bread.
‘You’re right, I haven’t,’ I said, misty-eyed. ‘All of the above, I suppose, but mainly heartbreak. My fiancé called our wedding off a few months ago.’ The panicky feeling started again, so I gulped down some wine to get rid of it, drinking my feelings away.
Xavier went quiet, contemplating his food, ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said eventually.
‘I know. Not quite the happy ending I was expecting, and all my money is tied up in the house we were buying together. The house wehavebought together.’
‘What kind of man proposes unless he is absolutely certain?’ Xavier said angrily. ‘What was his reason?’ His visceral upset restored a flickering of a glimmer of hope in my faith in men.
‘He was my university boyfriend, so we’d been together a long time.’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He said we… grew apart – well, he grew apart from me – and I didn’t notice.’
‘He sounds like a selfish child,’ Xavier said, shaking his head. ‘You can’t just discard those you claim to love when things get tough. A relationship is about the good times and the bad. You’ve had a lucky escape.’
‘It’s been pretty awful,’ I said, ‘and he’s been constantly in touch ever since. Trying to justify why it happened on the day.’
‘It happened on yourwedding day?’ Xavier was incredulous.
I nodded miserably, as the shame came flooding back.
Xavier frowned as he ate, his forehead crinkling in concentration as he enjoyed the different flavours of the stew. The cogs in his brain almost visible in considering how it might be improved. He dipped his bread into the white wine sauce and crunched through it, slowly nodding to himself.
‘It’s delicious,’ I said, nodding wholeheartedly in agreement. ‘I’m going to be in trouble if this is the kind of food I’ll be eating every day. Not much chance of them leaving any of the profiteroles, though.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Xavier said, opening the fridge to reveal four perfectly plump profiteroles, oozing with cream, next to a small jug of caramel sauce. I could get used to this. George’s speciality dinner was a potato waffle cooked in the toaster, served on a bed of baked beans.
‘What about you?’ I asked pointedly. ‘How did you end up here?’
‘Through Luca,’ Xavier said pensively. ‘I’d been working on the restaurant scene in Paris for a while and had my own restaurant which was going well – and still is – and then… well, let’s just say things got complicated and I nearly lost everything. Luca stepped in and helped me out and thank God he did. He suggested I work for him here until things settled down.’
‘That’s quite a change?’ I said, surprised.
Xavier shrugged. ‘The idea works well for us both. Luca likes to impress important restaurant owners and wine producers and I like to be behind the impressing. And it’s only six months of the year – the rest of the time, I’m in Paris.’
‘How romantic! Whisking you off to the mountains on his private plane. Luca must really like your Bouillabaisse,’ I said, trying to imagine having that much money.
‘He does,’ Xavier said, running a hand through his hair. ‘And I like the peace out here. I can do my own thing without anyone bothering me.’
‘And what about your wife? It must be awful spending so much time apart. Why didn’t she come with you?’ I asked.
‘Christina runs the restaurant in Paris. She’s a chef, that’s how we met, so we are dividing and conquering to make things work for now. It won’t be forever. She’s the only person I trust to run the restaurant while I’m here in Verbier.’ The kitchen lights bounced off Xavier’s wedding ring as he twiddled with his napkin.
‘Sounds like couple goals. Working hard together towards your dreams.’
He stood up and whipped away our empty plates. ‘We’re working hard, that’s for sure. Which reminds me – I need to give her a call.’
Fourteen
10th December
Christmas was just around the corner, and I had to admit I couldn’t have chosen a more perfect place to spend it; Verbier gave off Christmassy vibes every day. If only Mum and Dad (and Basil) could be here to celebrate it with me. Liv, Xavier and I walked through the village on our way to the lift, enjoying the buzz of activity as people busied about. The chocolatier icing fondant gifts, the baker handing out fresh loaves of bread, Rachael arranging her shop window into a Christmas tree of macarons. How different it would have been if the wedding had gone ahead, and I was still with George. I’d have been decorating 24 Orchard Close in glitter and fairy lights and getting our beautiful home ready for our first married Christmas as Mr and Mrs Ballinger. I felt a pang of loss for the future I thought I’d have. I’d imagined it all so specifically. Having everyone over. My parents, his parents, his sister and her boring, ruddy-cheeked husband. Wrestling the turkey into shape and cooking up a feast, with three types of potatoes and two types of stuffing. I’d wanted it all. To play wife – tobea wife. Hadn’t I? I thought back to that awful moment with George and a chill ran through me;my feelings aren’t forever feelings. I still couldn’t believe it had happened. That my life had crumbled so quickly and now I was here. Living in this funny little winter wonderland. The village was a-sparkle with Christmas cheer, gold and silver baubles hung heavy on the pine trees and multi-coloured fairy lights were strewn across the street. The farmers’ market had taken it up a notch, with the traders wearing big-eared elf hats, and selling food with a Christmassy spin; giant pretzels, buttery stollen and hot turkey sandwiches. David was giving the cheese man a run for his money as people enjoyed samples of chocolate liqueur, port and Champagne, exchanging crisp notes for beautifully wrapped bottles as they stocked up for the big day.
The three of us dragged our boards along, making tracks in the fresh snow as it fell.
‘Ready to get out there?’ Liv asked.
‘Not really, but I’ll do my best,’ I said, slightly terrified at the thought of another public faceplant and possible broken wrists in time for Christmas.
