Rachel looked aghast. ‘Not on your own.’
‘No. With the girls.’ Ginny clenched her teeth. ‘All of us, I’m sure they won’t mind. We may need a rest from the skiing by then anyway. That’s if I even get on the slopes.’ Ginny gave a snort, realising the impression her negativity would give. Her usual self-doubts crept in. ‘Oh, please don’t let on to the girls, but I’m petrified.’
‘Oh, Mum, I thought you were.’ Rachel gazed at her mother with concern. ‘You know, there’s still time to change your mind, although I think it’s a perfect distraction, a great idea to challenge yourself as well as have fun with your friends.’
Ginny slid her knife beneath a slice of succulent white turkey and laid it gently onto her plate. ‘No. No, I wouldn’t – couldn’t – let my friends down. They’ve organised this all on my behalf. I’m really touched that they care so much. So, no. I’m determined to throw myself into it. And, I’m exaggerating. It will be a new challenge, and I’m sure the girls will expect me to organise something to remember Dad. Angie even suggested it at one point. I don’t want the trip to be miserable though. Just a toast at a meal or something. I’m not really sure if there will be anywhere suitable, but once we’re there, hopefully I’ll find a place I think is right and I’ll ask the girls. I’m sure they won’t mind. Like you, they’ll think it fitting that we remember him.’
Ginny flinched as one of the red candles in the centre of the table flickered. She would never get used to losing Mike despite her need to question him. She missed him terribly. And it was incomprehensible that he was taken at just sixty-one. Was it punishment for his misdemeanour? Not that she could ever know anything now. His words would echo, possibly haunt forever, but no explanation would ever be spoken. All she knew was that she needed closure and the determination to stop tormenting herself and wallowing in self-pity.
‘Your hair looks really good by the way. I like the new shorter fringe,’ Rachel said, brushing her fingers through a spring of Ginny’s bouncy highlighted hair. ‘You’re looking amazingly fit too. You must have worked really hard preparing. You remind me of that … oh, what’s her name, the Sex and the City woman, er … Kim Cattrall. That’s the one. Don’t be surprised if you pull on the slopes.’
‘Don’t be daft. I’m almost sixty not sixteen.’ Ginny laughed, but was thankful to be side-tracked from the incessant niggling that festered in her mind. ‘But, I’m flattered. Thank you. It’s been hard work and I pray that I’ve done enough to get me through the week. I’m apprehensive about skiing, yes, but I’m really looking forward to having some fun with the girls. The timing’s perfect and I’m certainly glad to be away from that office. I was tempted to walk out on Thursday.’
Ginny shook her head and scrunched her nose. ‘It’s not a nice place to work, but I thought of today, with all of you, and the week away with my all my friends. The break will be the tonic I need. Maybe I’ll look at the job differently when I get back.’
Kim
Sheltering from the late afternoon sun under a canvas canopy Kim Anderson drained the last of the tepid tea from her mug, knowing she should get on with her packing. It was naughty to be lazy, naughty and nice and something she rarely did. And why not? The Perth heat was intense and there was nothing more refreshing after a day on her feet at the hospital than a cool dip in the pool and then that priceless slot of the day slumbering for an hour in the shade, gorging on colours and the heady scents of the rose garden before Will, her husband, returned from work.
In fact, today she would savour it that little bit more just because she could. Will would be another two hours. She had suspended Lena, her personal trainer, for two weeks over Christmas and whilst she was away skiing. The break, she envisaged, would give her time to decide if she should actually continue. Although the sessions had produced a body she had always yearned for, it had been gruelling these last few months, so she deserved a treat.
The pile of ironing in the laundry room could lounge for another half hour despite the fact she couldn’t wait to seal up her travel bags and be on her way to Europe. So far from Australia, and so much cooler this time of year, but she took comfort and warmth knowing that she would very soon be with Mai, one of her twin daughters, for Christmas Day. Mai was staying with Kim’s friend and former colleague, Tandy, in her home by Lake Geneva. After that Kim would meet up with her besties – Ginny, Cathy, Lou and Angie – for a whole week together. And skiing.
The skiing was irrelevant. An excuse. It was time with her old buddies that her heart yearned for. Since the twins left, a wound had opened up inside her. Kim indulged herself among the roses. Her home served as a place for sleeping, eating, storing belongings and washing clothes. Although beautiful, with every consumable imaginable, its heart had been ripped out when Avril and Mai flew off to study in Europe four years ago. It only came alive every Christmas.
After her friend Ginny lost her husband Mike, Ginny had come to stay a month and they spent hours chatting and consuming buckets of wine in the rose garden – Kim’s refuge.
Waking from her reverie, Kim entered the building she called home and, as usual, checked the security cameras before climbing the stairs to shower. The gates were secured and there was nothing signalling alarm. After showering, she towelled herself dry and applied a heavy dose of Nivea to soak into her skin, then slipped on a summer shirt and headed back down to the laundry room. Sticking out her tongue at the pile in the basket, she pulled out the ironing board from its cupboard, followed by the iron. Turning the dial to cool, she briefly ran the iron over the new ski-wear she had collected over the last few months. She had washed fleeces, T-shirts, thermals and jeans. Then she realised what a waste of time it all was – they didn’t need ironing. As she looked up at the clock, she heard the rattle of Will’s keys.
‘Have a good day, love?’ she asked noticing beads of sweat bubbling on his skin as he slapped his laptop case onto the worktop close to her. He’d only walked from the car.
‘Nah, not the best.’
‘I don’t know why you didn’t book a flight and come with me to Switzerland. Or London at least – spend Christmas with Avril.’
Will rolled his eyes. ‘She won’t want me there; she’s all loved up. Anyway, odds on they’ll be spending Crimbo with his folks.’
‘You think? She hasn’t said.’ Kim creased her eyebrows, anticipating more information.
Will shrugged, smoothing his greying hair with his fingers. ‘Well, I’m flat out over the holidays so it ain’t gonna happen. Besides, you’ll be with your friends and I know that means a lot to you.’ He kissed the back of her neck as if knowing it should soothe any tension about the subject. She had given up trying to persuade him to retire and move back to England. It only upset him and caused rows. He wasn’t ready to give up his specialised work with the oncology team in Perth, and understandably so; they were making great headway treating, even curing women with breast cancer. Plans were now in place to set up a one-stop care centre over the next two years. She knew he couldn’t bear to abandon the team.
Kim placed the iron down on its safety grid, turning to Will. As she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, his arms slid around her waist whilst he leaned down to kiss a short tuft of her hair.
His lips brushed hers. ‘I must be crazy to let such a beautiful woman out of my sight for twelve days.’ He took a step back and eyed her naked body beneath the thin linen shirt. ‘Look at you. Girls in their twenties are less lean and toned. God, I wanna eat you!’ He pulled her close again and Kim instantly felt his arousal.