Page 54 of Lost in Translation
With the boys back at school, time weighed heavily on Charlotte’s hands. She saw Sadie and Pamela for the odd coffee and catch-up, and tried to fit in a walk at least three times a week. She deliberately kept her distance from Alicia, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had about Dom. It appeared she had persuaded her daughter Jennifer to stay, as Charlotte saw her frequently, hanging out in the school grounds with her band of mini-skirted friends.
In October, Sadie suggested their families went to the Montreux Palace together on Christmas Day. Charlotte laughed in surprise. ‘That’s two months away! I haven’t even got my head around what to do for Halloween, never mind Christmas.’
‘Trust me, if you don’t book now, you’ll be lucky to get a table.’ Sadie flicked through her phone and brought up a series of photos of herself, Rick, Miranda and Louise seated round a beautifully decorated table, all sporting Santa hats. ‘We went last year for the first time and loved it. A bloody enormous buffet serving everything you can imagine, and — get this — an entire room devoted to cheese, desserts and an enormous chocolate fountain.’
Charlotte mentioned it to Dom, who blanched at the price but told her to go ahead, if that was what she wanted. Alastair and Robson’s eyes lit up with glee at the mention of the dessert room, and the idea that they could eat as much as they wanted. For Charlotte, spending the day with another family would dilute the ever-present tension between herself and Dom. Not to mention giving her a break from cooking and cleaning up afterwards.
At Dom’s insistence, they went on another couple of nights out with his work colleagues. He didn’t mention Amelie, and Charlotte’s relief when she didn’t show up was palpable. Perhaps she’d left the company, or moved somewhere else? What struck Charlotte as strange was that no one else mentioned her either. And Charlotte couldn’t help feeling that Antoine and Juliette acted a little awkwardly around her, compared to their warmth and friendliness before.
In the run-up to Christmas, Dom announced that he had to spend a few days in Zurich. ‘Look,’ he said pointedly, opening his laptop and gesturing to an agenda of meetings and presentations.
‘Willshebe there?’ The words came out before Charlotte could stop them.
‘You have to get over this, Charlotte.’ Dom slammed the laptop lid down and faced her. ‘It’s like a bloody elephant in the room, and I don’t know how much more of your attitude I can take.’
‘Myattitude?’ Charlotte glowered back at him. ‘I’m not the one who confessed to kissing someone else.’
‘I said I was sorry.’ Dom puffed his cheeks out in exasperation. ‘And no, she won’t be there. You have my word.’
‘And your word means such a lot, doesn’t it?’ Charlotte hissed in response. Unbidden, an image of Amelie blown up to elephant size and pirouetting round the room in a tutu filled her mind. She giggled, and Dom looked at her as if she’d flipped her lid.
With Dom out of the way, Charlotte relaxed a little. She didn’t know how to fix her marriage — or if she even wanted to — but the boys deserved a wonderful Christmas.
With the tree already up, and brunch for eight booked at the Palace, all that remained was to pick up a few presents for the boys. Charlotte had ordered stuff online, but she always enjoyed browsing through a toy department for quirky bits and pieces. What could she do with Alastair and Robson, though? They were on holiday now till early January, and Charlotte balked at asking Sadie to have them again. Perhaps… She found Jürgen’s number and rang him.
‘Hello, Charlotte. How lovely to hear from you.’ His warm voice wrapped around Charlotte like a comforting blanket. ‘I hope you’re well.’
‘I’m good,’ Charlotte replied. ‘And you?’
‘Fighting a head cold, but nothing serious.’ Jürgen coughed and apologised.
‘I wondered if Marcus might be free this afternoon to babysit the boys. Just for a few hours, while I do some Christmas shopping in Lausanne.’
‘Give me a second.’ Charlotte heard the phone being put down and muffled voices in the background. A moment later, Jürgen returned. ‘Marcus would be delighted to babysit. I can bring him over, say around two o’clock?’
‘Perfect,’ replied Charlotte. ‘I’ll give them lunch and maybe Marcus can help them build a snowman.’ There’d been a decent snowfall overnight. Not enough to put Charlotte off driving — the Swiss were super-efficient at clearing the roads, with the ploughs out around 5 am.
‘He will love that,’ said Jürgen, giving a throaty chuckle. ‘We will see you soon.’
* * *
When Jürgen askedif he could accompany Charlotte on her shopping trip, she didn’t hesitate to say yes. Leaving the boys and Marcus pelting each other with snowballs, they set off in Jürgen’s car. He’d insisted on driving, and Charlotte relished being in the powerful machine once more, although this time with the heating cranked up to the max.
Wandering around the toy section of Globus, Charlotte picked up some packs of Playmobil figurines and browsed through a stack of jigsaw puzzles.
‘I adored jigsaws when I was younger,’ said Jürgen. ‘There is something very soothing about spreading out all the pieces and making them into a complete picture.’
Charlotte added one featuring characters from one of the boys’ favourite Disney films. ‘I did a thousand-piece one when I was pregnant with Alastair. Some old Dutch artist’s painting; I can’t remember the name now. It took me ages, and I ended up having it framed because I couldn’t bear to take it apart.’
‘Yes, it’s sad when you finish it only to pack it all away again.’ Jürgen tucked a colourful 500-piece puzzle featuring a bustling Swiss village market under his arm. ‘I will revisit my youth one evening, when Marcus is bored with keeping his old father company.’
After picking up some wrapping paper and gift tags, they ended the outing with coffee and cake in a nearby café. With outdoor heaters providing warmth, they huddled round a circular table, watching shoppers dart past laden with bags.
‘You seem happier,’ said Jürgen, stirring sugar into his espresso. ‘Are things better between you and your husband?’
Charlotte met his steady gaze, filled with concern and tenderness. When had Dom last looked at her in that way? His recent expressions had shown guilt, frustration and defensiveness more than any fondness or desire.
‘No, not really.’ Charlotte tipped the small pot of coffee cream into her cup and stirred vigorously. ‘I feel like I’m adrift at sea and the only person who can save me is myself. Which is a bloody terrifying thought, to be honest.’
