ection>
Revenge of a Chalet Girl
Lorraine Wilson
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Contents
I live in Wiltshire with my husband but love to travel and have lived in four continents. From playing amidst Roman ruins in Africa as a child to riding a Sultan's racehorse in the Middle East as a teen, I’ve many experiences to draw on for the stories I’ve been writing ever since I can remember. When I’m not writing you'll find me listening to audiobooks while I sew or design handbags, usually with a rescue terrier or two curled up on my feet!
A big thank you to the team at Harper Impulse but also special thanks to David, Lilian and Doug for all your support. x
No, no, no!
Amy’s heart leapt wildly about her chest, pounding even harder than it had the time she’d tried a spinning class.
It has to be a different Josh Carter. It has to be!
Despite the crackling fire in the fireplace and cosy underfloor heating, Amy shivered.
“Are you okay there, Amy? Have you got those tree decorations? We’re running out of time, especially if Scott and Holly have a clear run back from Geneva Airport,” Sophie called out from the open plan living area.
“Er, yes.” Amy hastily put the bookings print out back by the telephone. That would teach her for being nosy. She picked up the cardboard box full of Christmas lights, glass icicles and shiny red baubles and walked into the room, taking it over to Sophie.
It’s not my Josh, it can’t be…
“Great.” Sophie twisted her caramel-blonde hair up into a ponytail and got up from the cowhide sofa to take the box from her. “I think we’ll have enough now.”
They both looked at the non-drop Christmas tree that soared up to the double height ceiling in the corner opposite the fireplace. They’d already put two boxes worth of decorations onto the tree and were fast running out of time before a minibus full of guests descended on them.
Tash and Amelia walked in, carrying four mugs of hot chocolate between them.
“Drink up, I’ve made them Irish.” Tash winked at Amy who attempted a weak smile but it felt forced and unnatural. A reflection on how she was feeling - disconnected from her surroundings.
If it was her Josh Carter she needed the alcohol. And the chocolate. In fact she’d need a shedload more of both…
“Thanks.” Amy took her mug and tried to let the Michael Buble tracks playing softly in the background get her into the Christmas mood. Candles flickered on the windowsill and thick flakes of snow fell steadily outside, the sky so white it felt like they were immersed in the snow cloud.
It should be perfect. She had been looking forward to Christmas, even though she’d be working. There’d be parties, skiing and snow…
But now her mind was full of Josh, the thoughts had latched on, unshakeable. Memories of the last Christmas they’d shared together at his parents’ house in Devon taunted her. Josh had saved up to buy her a silver hare brooch, he’d always joked she was like a hare, full of bounce and a bit wild. If anyone had suggested it was going to be the last time she’d celebrate it with him she’d have laughed.
Unthinkable.
She lifted the mug to her lips and swallowed a lump of pain down with the warm chocolate. The instant rush of sugar helped to take the sting away a little. She was used to swallowing down pain when it came to Josh. She’d had a lot of practice.
Christmas in Verbier had sounded such fun. Far better than going home to her parents and being asked if she’d met any nice boys yet, or when was she was going to settle to a ‘proper’ job?
“Anyone know anything about the guests coming today?” She tried to sound casual, getting down on her knees on the cowskin rug to sort out the Christmas lights, testing the bulbs so she wouldn’t have to look any of the girls in the eye. Sharing a dorm room meant they all knew each other pretty well.
Sometimes too well.
Tash was only too happy to share the gory details of her latest sexual conquests. How she got away with the things she got up to Amy didn’t know. Luckily for Tash, Scott and Holly were great to work for and made it clear that what their staff got up to in their own time was their own business.
“I think it’s a stag party.” Sophie flopped back on the sofa with her mug and a packet of silver strands to untangle.
Amy and Amelia groaned but Tash whistled. “Just think of the tips, girls.”
“But what will they expect us to do for those tips?” Amelia pulled a face. “Don’t you remember the time that stag group made us have a drinking competition to compete for our tips?”
“Hey, you might enjoy it. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” Tash retorted. “Anyone’d think you were forty-six, not twenty-six.”
“Where are they from? Oh crappitty, crap, crap…” Amy cursed as the plastic casing of one of the lights snapped in her fingers. She’d have to make sure that one went around the back of the tree.
“Who?” Tash stared at her curiously.
Really, that girl had the attention span of a gnat. Either that or she was being uncannily perceptive.
“The stag party of course.” Amy’s jaw clenched with the effort of trying to sound casual. Really, she wanted to grab hold of Sophie and shake the details out of her.
“Not sure,” Sophie replied, sipping at her chocolate, fixing her hazel eyes