Someone Like You (44 page)

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Authors: Cathy Kelly

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BOOK: Someone Like You
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‘Wow, a Pontiac Firebird,’ he exclaimed as something red and sporty appeared.

Ray pulled up in a huge off-road vehicle and they dumped the luggage in the back and climbed in.

‘Are you OK back there, Leonie?’ Fliss asked in concern from her position in the front seat beside Ray.

‘Sure, it’s lovely,’ Leonie said. Stop with the begorrah act. she hissed at herself. ‘Marvellous,’ she added, determined to get the blarney out of her voice. ‘It’s cold, isn’t it,’ she said, as Ray fiddled with the heater. ‘There must be quite a wind-chill factor. I don’t think any of us knew how cold it would be here. Usually on holiday, I end up going somewhere hot.’ Shit. That made it sound as if she was the sort of vacuous woman who liked baking herself to a crisp on the Costa Del Whatever and couldn’t cope with any other sort of holiday. ‘It’s wonderful to be here in Colorado,’ she continued brightly.

‘We’re glad you could come,’ Ray said. ‘Wait till you see Vail. It’s breathtaking. The skiing is marvellous, you guys.’

The talk turned to skiing and, as Leonie had no intention

of trying it, she sat back in her seat and looked out the window as the lights of Denver swept past. Even the ever laid-back Danny was excited about skiing for the first time and, as the other five talked, Leonie stared out into the inky night. Denver had a marvellous natural history museum with a planetarium, she’d read in a guide book borrowed from the library. And lots of bookshops and plenty of historic sights like the Unsinkable Molly Brown’s Victorian house.

If the wedding fever got too much for her, she’d get a bus back to the city and do her own thing, she decided.

Vail was only a hundred miles away and there was daily transport to and from the city.

After the trauma of the flights, Leonie surprised herself by falling asleep for the journey.

‘Mom, we’re here,’ said a voice. Mel, calling her ‘Mom’.

Americanized already, Leonie thought sleepily.

She got out of the off-roader to find herself outside a selection of wooden cabins and one small hotel, all of which could have come straight from the pages of Heidi. Windows with adorable carved shutters, sweetly carved porches complete with. wooden curlicues and window boxes with little conifers gave the cabins an authentic Tyrolean look. Not that she’d ever been to the Tyrol, but Leonie had looked at enough holiday programmes in her time to recognize the Austrian experience had been uprooted and replanted in Vail. Every little detail, including the hanging wooden signs proclaiming the cabins’ names, was picture postcard perfect. Only the phalanx of gleaming and expensive four-wheel-drive vehicles parked carelessly to one side of the hotel showed that this was wealthy Vail and not nineteenth century Heidi-land.

‘Isn’t it adorable?’ sighed Fliss. ‘The hotel has a dining room, bar, sauna, hot tub - everything you could want but each cabin is self-contained. The best part about the complex is that we’re only two miles outside Vail village itself. They’ll shuttle you into town anytime you want, or it’s a mile by the back path. Ray checked you in earlier so you don’t have to bother with registering; you can do that tomorrow. I’m sure you’re dying to get into bed.’

‘Yes,’ Leonie said. ‘I could sleep for a week.’

‘Sleep!’ exclaimed Mel. ‘How could you want to sleep, Mom? I’d love to explore right now.’

‘I thought you’d want your beauty sleep, young lady,’

Fliss said, affectionately ruffling Mel’s silky hair.

Another dart of jealousy nipped Leonie. She was surprised at how much it hurt her to watch them together.

It was ridiculous, being jealous of your children enjoying themselves with someone else. Honestly, what was she like?

‘Thank you so much, Fliss,’ she said, being over-friendly to compensate for how bitchy she felt. ‘This is lovely.

It’s a truly beautiful place for a wedding. Which cabin is ours?’

The word cabin was a bit misleading, she felt as Ray let them into it. Leonie had been expecting something practical and spartan in a homespun way. That’s how skiing cabins looked on holiday programmes normally: roomy enough for skiing paraphernalia and with a basic kitchen fitted out for cooking enormous apres-ski dinners. This one was obviously the deluxe version.

Decorated in a warm, dark umber colour, the huge sitting room was a shrine to American Indian art, complete with wall-hangings, a driftwood sculpture of a bison and two giant watercolours of rock drawings on pale stone.

‘They’re Anasazi paintings, from the Mesa Verde,’

explained Ray. ‘The Anasazi were native Americans from over two thousand years ago. Fliss’s mom is thinking of getting a trip together to visit Mesa Verde some day. It’s hard going in winter, but it’s worth it, she says.’

‘Great!’ said Abby, who loved history.

‘Knew you’d like that, Pumpkin,’ her father said lovingly.

‘I better leave you to it. I’ll phone you in the morning to see what you want to do, kids.’

Danny threw himself down on a huge couch in front of a big fire and admired the room, while the girls rushed to investigate the bedroom facilities.

‘This one’s huge, it should be yours, Mum,’ Abby said.

‘But there’s two of us and we need more room. And it’s got an ensuite,’ wailed Mel, who wasn’t as giving as her twin and clearly fancied herself in the master bedroom.

Leonie went in to referee.

‘This room’s prettier,’ said Abby, peering into a second room. ‘It’s got twin beds, a fireplace and patio doors.’

‘Oh, lemme see,’ squealed Mel.

Leonie toured the premises. A well-equipped kitchen leading on to a dining area, the sitting room, a huge bathroom with an enormous tub big enough for three people, and three bedrooms.

Danny could have the third room.

She got her luggage, dragged it into the double room which was very nice really, with a huge bed, and striking dark green decor - and left them to it.

Nine hours of sleep later, Leonie felt well enough to get up and think about breakfast. The girls were gone but Danny was still in his bed. Some things never change, she thought fondly, peering in his bedroom door at the giant lump huddled up in a stripey duvet.

Somebody had kindly left coffee, milk, sugar, bread and a few other necessities in the kitchen, so Leonie made herself coffee, delighted to have figured out the complicated coffee machine so easily. After fixing herself toast, low-fat spread and some sort of grape jam labelled jelly, she retired to the sitting room and looked out of the window to see what sort of place they were in.

Magnificent, she realized, having to stop munching midslice as she gazed at the stately snowy mountains all around her. They were huge, they made the mountains back home look like hills. The sun shone off the snow, lighting the valley with bright glorious sunshine. The Colorado light was legendary, Leonie’s guide book had said. The guide book was right. The whole place was fantastic. Leonie felt a frisson of excitement. This was such a glorious place, they’d have a wonderful holiday.

Ray phoned to say the girls were with him and that he hoped to bring them all to lunch in Vail at one o’clock to show them where everything was. ‘It’s terribly pretty, Leonie. You’ll love it. There’s lots to do if you don’t want to ski: shopping, sleigh rides, eating out. The list is endless.

I’m going to take the kids ice skating in Beaver Creek tomorrow,’ he added, ‘if you’d like to come. By the way, Fliss has dinner organized with her parents tonight, and I hope you can come. Apart from that, and the wedding, of course, you’re free to do what you want.’

‘Which cabin are you in?’ Leonie enquired.

‘We’re staying at Fliss’s parents’ place, half a mile away.

That’s where the wedding is going to be held,’ Ray explained.

It must be a small wedding then, Leonie thought. Funny, she’d been expecting some big, showy affair.

‘How many are coming?’ she asked.

‘About two hundred,’ he replied.

‘Jesus, that must be one hell of a cabin,’ Leonie gasped.

There was an embarrassed silence. ‘That’s what I thought at first,’ Ray said finally. ‘They all insist on calling it a cabin.

It’s really a big house, split-level with masses of room. It’s the same as the way they all call those huge houses in the Hamptons “cottages” when they’re mansions.’

‘I better not mention my cottage then,’ Leonie grinned.

‘Everyone will think I’m loaded.’

Vail was beautiful, she had to admit, hours later when she and the girls were tired from going from shop to shop, admiring the designer clothes and everything you ever needed to ski in style.

The twins adored the picturesque Bavarian-style buildings and Mel was in seventh heaven as they trekked from boutique to boutique, looking at clothes.

But it wasn’t a cheap place. Fliss’s parents must be seriously rich if they owned a place here.

‘Did you meet Fliss’s mum and dad during the summer?’

she asked the twins.

Abby shook her head: Mel was too busy drooling over a beaded micro-dress in one of the few shop windows that didn’t have skiing clothes in it.

‘It’s cold,’ Leonie said, shivering. It began to snow gently, soft fluffy flakes, perfect for skiing on, Abby explained.

‘Let’s sit down somewhere,’ Leonie begged. ‘These boots are killing me.’

Over mugs of steaming cinnamon-topped hot chocolate, Mel stared out the window at the passing pedestrians and Abby read the Vail guide book her father had given her.

She was fascinated by the skiing section: Ray was taking them all out the next day and Abby couldn’t wait. Leonie sipped her sweet chocolate and hoped the simple dinner tonight wasn’t going to be some fiercely dressed-up affair.

Everybody in Vail was beautifully, expensively dressed.

She’d seen more fur here than she’d ever seen before. The anti-fur lobby obviously hadn’t reached this corner of the world.

They’d watched two women in ankle-length minks, snow boots and wrap-around sunglasses sashaying across the street in exquisite full make-up. Mel had been convinced they were movie stars and had craned her head for a better look. Leonie had even seen fur-lined skiing clothes.

She didn’t feel as if she fitted in. Had it been a horrible mistake to come?

 

Ray didn’t pick them up in his Jeep that evening for dinner: a short man who respectfully called her Mrs Delaney came instead.

‘I drive for the Berkeley family,’ he explained when Mel artlessly asked him who he was.

‘How lovely,’ smiled Leonie, wincing on the inside. Now she knew for definite that it was going to be a very posh evening.

Any family who had their own driver were in a different league to the Greystones’ Delaneys. Doubtless, dinner would not be lasagne and baked potatoes eaten at the kitchen table. Her old reliable, the copper velvet trousersuit, was not going to cut the mustard with the super-rich Berkeley family, even if she was wearing her best Egyptian jewellery and had gone easy on the kohl. It’d probably be the sort of night where even the maid wore Gucci. Gulping at the thought, Leonie pulled on her warm woollen coat and climbed into the back of the Jeep.

The Berkeleys’ cabin would have made a super B & B, she decided as the driver steered the car into the drive where two Mercedes were already parked. Mel was most impressed by the size of the house.

‘Wow,’ she said in awe. ‘This is amazing.’

‘Yeah,’ Danny agreed. ‘They must be loaded.’

‘Danny!’ hissed his mother. ‘Keep your voice down.

We’re not here to assess their net worth. Don’t turn the plates upside down to see where they came from.’

Everyone giggled.

Fliss and Ray were waiting at the door for them and Leonie was struck once again by how much a couple they seemed; every time Fliss moved, Ray watched her, his eyes following every gesture, every smile, as if he couldn’t bear to tear his gaze away from this beautiful creature. And Fliss did look beautiful.

She wasn’t showily dressed. In fact, her grey tailored trousers and silvery V-neck sweater were simple in the extreme. But they were beautifully cut, elegant clothes.

The sweater was probably cashmere, Leonie thought. And definitely expensive. It was the combination of the clothes and Fliss’s own simple, understated beauty that made you stare at her. She really did wear practically no makeup apart from lip gloss and mascara, as Mel had explained that first time. Still, she looked wonderful. Leonie felt like she’d escaped from the clowns’ caravan in the circus by comparison.

This time, Fliss hugged her. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, it means such a lot to Ray,’ she confided as Ray led the others into a large reception room. ‘I don’t know if I’d be able to go to my ex-husband’s wedding, I’m so possessive. But it’s wonderful that you and Ray get on so well. It’s great for the kids, and I wanted you to meet me and know they’d always be safe and happy with me.’

It was the longest speech she’d made to Leonie, who wasn’t quite sure what to say in response. Leonie felt that it might be a mistake to reveal that seeing Fliss with her children cut her to the quick, so she smiled and limited herself to saying, ‘I’m happy to be here, Fliss. I’m glad Ray is happy.’

Which was true, more or less. Well, it wasn’t that she wished him to be unhappy, but it was hard to see him marrying someone he adored while she remained so spectacularly single. If he’d been a teensy bit less happy, it might have been easier to bear all this wedding stuff. Sheer joy was very hard to cope with at such close quarters.

But Leonie could hardly let that slip. So she patted Fliss’s arm and added that people were very civilized in Ireland these days and remarriages were commonplace now.

It was a very civilized evening all round. Fliss’s parents were there with their new spouses, and when Leonie was first introduced to them, she couldn’t imagine how the original Mr and Mrs Berkeley had got together in the first place. Opposites must certainly attract.

. Fliss’s mother, Lydia, was a taut-faced, elegant brunette who spoke in a genteel voice and looked as if she never lifted a finger to fetch a tissue when she could summon a minion to do it for her.

Fliss’s father, Charlie, was a big blond bear of a man with a weather-beaten face, hands like hams and a marvellous sense of humour. He spent most of his days on his cattle ranch in Texas, a place where Leonie couldn’t imagine the immaculate Lydia ever setting foot. His current wife, Andrea, was a down-to-earth, country-loving woman with Bo Derek bone structure and a mane of silvery blonde hair. She and Leonie hit it off immediately. Fliss’s stepfather, Wilson, was a lawyer and he and Ray were obviously good pals.

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