Passport to Happiness. Carrie Stone

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СКАЧАТЬ very serious. I’d love to tell him that of course I’m going to be popping into Cartier for some new jewellery – I’m just waiting for my helicopter to arrive to collect me from lunch first. Still, at least I must look like I’m capable of buying nice things, even if the price of what is essentially a cheese and fruit sandwich has just given me a rude awakening. The problem is, once upon a time Jay would have treated me to such luxuries and our combined income meant I could often splurge on niceties. Now, what with living alone, my teaching salary just isn’t extendable to many luxuries. And I know life isn’t about handbags and watches, but I can’t help feeling like I’m missing out. I’m not living life to the max – I’m financially scraping by and that would be OK if I was enjoying it. But I realise with a jolt that the past hour and quarter since I landed in Zurich has been the most unscheduled excitement I’ve had in ages. And I want more of it.

      ‘I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for Enriquo as I’m passing,’ I say, knowing full well that there’s no chance I’ll be stepping inside the plush doors of Cartier anytime soon, unless my lottery numbers come up.

      Frederick seems satisfied and nods, his dark lashes fluttering as he appears to consider an idea. Gosh, why does he have to be gay and taken? It’s not like I’d have been able to start a full-blown relationship with him what with me living in Essex and knowing precisely five words of high German, three of which are numbers. But as far as a little holiday fling goes … he would have been perfect. He goes to walk away and then stops and turns.

      ‘I’m going to Lugano tomorrow – it’s my day off. I’m visiting family there. It’s a place every tourist should see. You should check it out too.’

      He’s looking at me keenly and despite having absolutely no idea where Lugano even is or whether Fred is a nutcase that could be planning to kidnap me and keep me as a sex slave, I nod my head in agreement.

      ‘Well, that would be fantastic if you don’t mind? Sure, I’d really like that.’

      ‘Huh?’ He looks at me blankly, before biting down on his bottom lip and pulling an awkward face. ‘Ooh, I see you … you thought…’ He lets the sentence linger and I feel my face flood with colour, a sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach. I burn with embarrassment as realisation hits. He totally wasn’t inviting me, was he? He was simply saying I should check it out.

      His face creases into a warm smile and he claps his hands together. ‘But of course, you must come. It’ll be nice to have some company on the train.’

      I know his overzealousness is purely to make me feel better for my humiliating misunderstanding and I can’t help but be grateful, even if I am still dying a little inside. ‘I can always check it out another day…’ I offer up lightly, tailing off.

      ‘No, it’s settled. I’ll meet you outside the hotel at ten in the morning. And I don’t usually do this, you know. Mixing with the hotel clients, I mean.’ I notice how uncomfortable his expression suddenly is. ‘But, anyway. you seem a little…’ He pauses and looks at me awkwardly. ‘Well, you seem a little lonely. And I hope you don’t mind me saying that but don’t worry – we will have you smiling in no time. Leave it to me.’

      My cheeks burn, and I feel the tears instantly building behind my eyes. Mortified, I manage a wobbly nod as he squeezes my shoulder. God, what was I thinking inviting myself along to his day out! He clearly pities me. Miss Everly-no-mates.

      ‘OK, back to work for me.’

      With a weak smile I watch him disappear and am left wondering why the idea of being told I look lonely hurts so much. I know it’s mostly likely because I am lonely. He’s hit the nail on the head. But to invite myself along? Isn’t that more desperate than lonely…

      Sighing, I stare at my reflection in the shiny surface of the knife on the table beneath me and it makes wonder where the hell my knight in shining armour has gotten to. I realised shortly after Jay shacked up with Sarah that there must be another man out there meant for me … but shouldn’t he have been here by now? I can only assume he must be lost on his way somewhere. Knowing my luck, he probably broke down before he even started out. Still, I make a promise to myself that they’ll be no more tears on this holiday. Yes, less self-pity and more shopping, thank you very much.

      The food arrives, and I tuck into the scrumptious concoction. Fred, as he tells me to call him, returns to clear my now empty plate and places in front of me a hand-drawn map of nearby points of interest. I thank him again as I sign the bill and reconfirm the arrangement for tomorrow’s outing, silently musing that the men I seem to come across of late in the UK aren’t even half as considerate. Making my way back to my room, I grab my bag and a cardigan before heading back out of the hotel onto the backstreets of Zurich.

      It’s buzzing around me as I weave between throngs of locals and tourists alike, passing designer shop after shop with window displays that make me squeal inwardly with longing and blanch outwardly at the hefty price tags. I come to the very quick conclusion that everyone living here must be extremely wealthy. I dread to think of the living costs. By the time I reach a pedestrian and road bridge crossing the river, I feel as if I’ve been transported into a serene reality. The sunshine reflects off the shimmering, gently rippling water that flows beneath me, as buildings both colourful and stone-walled, medieval and modern, line the riverbank as far as my eye can see. I stand with my elbows resting on the bridge ledge, gazing out across the water as the heat of the sun prickles against my skin.

      ‘So beautiful.’ I muse at how such a short flight can bring me to a place so very different to that which I’d imagined. It’s so refined and steeped in history, yet magnificently chic at the same time. I’m already in awe of the vibe of the city – from the tram that runs through the main roads, to the cleanliness, to the lack of high-rise buildings, to the swarms of well-heeled people that flit around me. It feels much less rushed than the fast pace of London that I’m used to and more efficient.

      ‘It is.’

      Startled, I turn with a confused expression to come face to face with a man standing beside me. His tailored navy pinstripe suit and pink tie immediately make me think ‘banking.’ He has an air about him very similar to Jay and I shiver involuntarily.

      ‘I’m sorry, are you talking to me?’ Bewildered, I quickly scan behind me wondering if I’m mistaken but he grins and holds my confused stare. His dark, almost black eyes twinkle at me.

      ‘Yes, you said it’s so beautiful and I’m agreeing.’ He gestures to the view and turns, facing the water, his tall, muscular frame leaning itself against the bridge. ‘I come here sometimes after meetings.’

      I take in his cropped black hair and dark olive skin. He doesn’t scream typical ‘Swiss’ to me. ‘Are you from here then?’ I ask before I can stop myself, suddenly self-conscious of my appearance. It hits me that he’s rather handsome with his square stubbled jawline and long dark eyelashes. He has large, masculine hands that I can’t help but admire and as he turns to me with a puzzled expression, oozing a charm and rawness I know he isn’t aware of, I feel my face flush. Damn. This is the type of man I usually avoid like the plague. The dangerous type that’ll have my knickers off in a flash, never to be seen again.

      ‘No, I grew up in Morocco. My mother is Spanish, my father’s from Tangier. But I live in a nearby canton, Zug and work for an investment company.’

      Interesting. His ancestry explains his dark features. And I was almost on point with the job role.

      ‘And you? You’re here on vacation?’ His grin is subtle but the twinkle in his eye tells me all I need to know. He’s got me sussed out.

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