Five Ladies Go Skiing: A feel-good novel of friendship and love. Karen Aldous

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СКАЧАТЬ her mother, who never felt London had embraced her. Her dear, now departed mother had sailed from Barbados to train as a nurse and met her father at a stall on Greenwich market where he was selling ladies’ fashion.

      Her father had also passed. She recalled his claim that he was instantly struck by her mother’s exotic beauty and didn’t care that his neighbours gossiped or crossed the road to avoid them. He was happy, and prejudice had never entered his brain. Angie relished the colour of her skin now and appreciated the fact that its texture remained taut, even on her face, and had aged without too many creases or wrinkles. Many a time compliments had been forthcoming that she could be thirty-something, despite now being sixty-two, a little older than her besties.

      After a quick shower, and another soaking of moisturiser, she towel-dried her thick black curls and slipped on one of the oversized shirts that she left undone at her breasts, before she returned downstairs to the kitchen.

      ‘Sorry,’ she said, reaching up to Robbie on tiptoe and pecking him on the lips. ‘That bra was grinding under my arms all day. I think I’ll just pack my sports bras for skiing.’ She perched on one of the stalls at the central island where Robbie had prepared the salad, rubbing her hands together and inhaling the Mediterranean fragrance.

      ‘Haven’t you packed yet?’ Robbie asked turning to her as he reached in the fridge for the salad dressing he’d prepared.

      Angie splayed out her hands in wonder. ‘When have I had time to pack?’ she asked, spotting a small bottle of nail varnish submerged among satsumas and Granny Smiths.

      Rob shook his head from side to side. ‘I hope you don’t think you’re going to pack when everyone’s here tomorrow. Danny and Matt will probably tolerate it, but you know Jonty will moan.

      ‘Of course not. I’ll do it later. After dinner,’ Angie stated. She unscrewed the nail varnish top. ‘I’ve started piling it, ready.’

      ‘You really need to start delegating. You can’t do it all.’

      ‘It’s not that easy, Rob,’ she said, brushing a thin layer of the ruby-red lacquer on to her thumbnail. ‘There’s nobody at the centre who knows about promoting or marketing. Any more than me anyway.’

      Rob flicked his greying thick fringe from his forehead. ‘Get a professional in then. Surely it will pay for itself. The rate you’re going, you’ll run yourself into the ground.’

      He made it sound so simple, but marketing personnel were so expensive. Only in the last few years had the business been turning a good profit and she was squirrelling that extra money away in the hope of buying a little bolthole somewhere warm – a winter hideaway she and Robbie could escape to if ever they had free time.

      She watched as Rob tossed sweet potato wedges over on the hot oven tray. ‘Anyway, don’t lecture me about delegation or managing my time or myself. I manage to work and keep myself in tip-top condition – you’ve surely no reason to complain. I could certainly give some of those young actresses you watch a run for their money. Anyway, I waited for you last night. Did you watch another film? Horny as a rig worker I was.’

      Angie had always been conscious that men would look elsewhere for gratification; after all, she knew only too well what her father got up to when he took ladies to try on dresses in his van when he worked the markets.

      ‘I fell asleep, I’m sorry. I still need a shower and a shave actually. I was late for work and I’ve been busy.’

      Angie sighed. ‘Yes, I can see that. So why are you cooking? I could have popped into M&S or John Lewis for a meal deal.’

      Rob shrugged and even blushed slightly. ‘I suppose guilt and the fact that you’ve been on my mind this afternoon as I wrapped your Christmas presents. I left the office a bit earlier to collect one, popped into the Horse and Groom of course, but got back to wrap them before you got home.’

      ‘Ooh, something mega sexy I hope. Yours is.’ Angie’s black locks bounced with excitement as she imagined a seductive silk negligee coupled with the latest, most wonderful sex toy on the market. Robbie knew how much she liked to try new gadgets. Their sexual connection had been major from the off. He was the first man she had ever met who knew how to please her, as well as being warm and funny.

      Ginny and the girls had never really grasped her insatiable appetite for sex, but it had always been a huge part of her and Rob’s relationship. Even after the menopause, Angie persuaded her GP to keep her on HRT just in case her libido faltered. Lately, though, she had found Rob a little forgetful and complaining of being tired; maybe it was his age – he was sixty-four in a month. But he hadn’t forgotten her Christmas present. Hopefully things were looking up. ‘Eek, I’m so excited. Can’t wait until tomorrow. In fact, if we’re still waiting for the food to cook, we could fit in a quickie.’

      Placing the sweet potatoes back into the oven, Rob swiped his neck with the back of his hand. ‘I don’t know where you get your energy from, sweetheart, but I’m bushed.’

      ‘Nonsense. You just want me to seduce you, don’t you?’ she said and, wasting no time, screwed the nail varnish top back on and leapt swiftly from the stool. She sidled up to him and pulled him close, sweeping one arm around his neck and reaching for his crotch with her other hand. ‘You are sex on legs, Rob Ricci, and what if we don’t get another opportunity before I go away?’

       Lou

      It was almost two o’clock when Lou Cavendish checked her watch and straightened the last cushion in the show house. She pulled her scarf tighter so that it hugged the back of her neck; it probably wasn’t her greatest idea to get her hair cut so short in the winter, but she was certainly pleased with the result and it would be easier to wear a ski helmet. She decided she looked and felt so much younger and Terry, her husband, had approved too, which was unusual. He usually preferred her hair long.

      She switched off the lamps and headed to the hall, happy that the house was finally furnished and tweaked ready for the New Year launch. She opened her classic Chanel flap bag, pulled out her Chanel lip gloss, leaned towards the mirror and stroked her lips with the pink-orange tones of Corail Naturel, until they shone. Satisfied, she rolled and smacked her lips before tossing the lip gloss back in the black bag and slipping on her matching ballerina flats. After a final smile at her reflection, she turned off the hall light and rubbed a speck off the switch with her shiny long fingernail.

      ‘OK, done.’ She grabbed her winter coat from the hook and brushed the faux-fur collar before sliding it on. At least that was one more thing ticked off her list; now all she had to do was finish her packing and decide what to wear for Christmas Day.

      She and Terry weren’t cooking a Christmas dinner this year. They had all been invited to her son Ollie’s house with his wife Ella and their two girls, as well as her daughter Emma and Emma’s partner Joe. Lou was looking forward to not having to rush around like a headless chicken with all the usual pressures of preparing food for Christmas Day and all the mess that came with it. It was Terry’s job to tidy after her. Lou hated any kind of housework but still held a passion for her and Terry’s property business – building and selling them. Fortunately, show houses didn’t get too messy when you employed good cleaners.

      Once out and on the road, the traffic was lighter than she had expected for Christmas Eve, so she was soon back in the village, clocking that Ginny’s car wasn’t in the drive opposite. She parked her Range Rover Evoque beside Terry’s big Range Rover. She knew he would still be down the Horse and СКАЧАТЬ