Read sample Wedding Bells at the Lakeside Hotel

Chapter One

It was the best feeling ever. Stacy Townsend plumped down on a chair at the kitchen table, excitement pulling at her middle. She reached for a croissant to slather with butter and raspberry jam, then gaped at it. In seven days’ time, she and Rico would be getting ready to say ‘I do’… While her wedding was absolutely the most amazing thing that had ever happened to her, every time she thought about it, butterflies the size of seagulls started flapping about in her tummy – not particularly conducive to breakfast. Did every bride-to-be feel this way? Come to that, did her prospective bridegroom? Rico, the love of her life and her fellow hotel manager was downstairs already, as if this was any old Saturday morning at the Lakeside Spa Hotel in their corner of N.E. Switzerland, but oh, wow – in just seven days’ time…

Grimsbach church clock in the distance broke into her daydream as she was chewing her way through the croissant. Bim bam bim bam bim bam – quarter to eight, almost time to start her shift helping Alex on reception. Saturday was the main changeover day in the hotel, and the desk was much too much work for one person. Flavia, Alex’s second-in-command, wasn’t due in until the afternoon, when reception would be even busier as new guests checked in with all their questions and concerns.

Stacy swallowed the last calorific mouthful and reached for her coffee. Beneath her, people would be packing and having their last breakfast, then the housekeeping staff would move in to prepare the rooms for this week’s arrivals. Weekends were always busy, but hey… Stacy waggled the finger with the diamond and emerald engagement ring. Next Saturday, she’d be slipping into the floaty white dress which, while not a traditional wedding dress, was as romantic a garment as she’d ever worn. It was going to be incredible. And oh, heck, here were the giant butterflies again. Breathe, Stacy.

The flat door banged open as Rico burst in and thudded a pile of letters on the table. ‘Post. This lot came yesterday, but they got mixed up with a load of stuff for the spa and Margrit only found them this morning. More cards, by the look of them. Ready for a hard morning’s work on reception?’

Stacy got up to wash her hands. Wedding cards tended to be white, and raspberry jam finger marks wouldn’t be the best look. Her mother – still in sunny England – would have a fit. ‘Yup. We’re pretty full until Friday, which is good. It’ll make up for being closed for two days for the wedding.’

Rico was pushing buttons on the coffee machine. He turned and leaned back against the worktop while his coffee burbled through. ‘As manager, my love, I’m telling you we’re allowed to close for two days for our own wedding. It’s not like we’ll be getting married every other week.’

Stacy raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, so you’re the manager? I thought we were equal partners in this business? But you’re right.’ She opened the first card, then passed it over to Rico. ‘From Sarah and Paul. Sarah and I did our nursing training together.’

She went on to the second card, from a distant cousin in Ireland. Next on the pile was a postcard of Zurich. Stacy flipped it over to read the message.

She waved it at Rico. ‘Who’s MJ?’

He came to peer over her shoulder. ‘No idea.’

‘Hm. Maybe it’s a hotel guest due to arrive this week. We don’t have any MJs coming to the wedding, do we?’

‘Not as far as I know, but why on earth would a guest send us a card from Zurich? And it’s addressed to us personally, not the hotel.’

Stacy was going through the list of expected wedding guests in her head. The arrangements were a little complicated. The civil ceremony (and a big party in the hotel) was here in Switzerland, and all the Swiss family and friends were coming, plus family and a couple of close friends from her old home in England. Afterwards, she and Rico were having their wedding trip to the Bernese Oberland in the diagonally opposite corner of Switzerland, and was she looking forward to it! She’d done lots of travelling closer to home here by Lake Constance, not to mention in the Italian-speaking part south of the alps, but she couldn’t wait to see the Jungfrau and the Eiger, and the twin lakes at Interlaken. The Swiss part of the honeymoon would end with a couple of days in Basle, then they’d take the train up to Paris for two days in the city of lovers before hopping over the Channel. The trip would finish with a visit to London and another train up to Elton Abbey near Manchester, where Stacy’s mum was planning the fanciest church blessing plus poshest dinner party ever, and as far as Stacy could see, she’d invited all their friends and relatives as well as half the village to come to that. Mum was splendid at OTT.

She handed MJ’s postcard to Rico. ‘It could be someone going to the do at Elton Abbey, I suppose. But if they’re in Zurich already, you’d think they’d come by, wouldn’t you? I’m calling Mum this weekend, so I’ll ask her then – if I manage to get a word in. She has something to show me, apparently.’

Rico stuck the postcard on the fridge with a daisy magnet, and Stacy put the rest of the cards to one side to open later. Time for her stint on reception.

At ten past ten the final pair of departing guests left the hotel, and Stacy high-fived Alex, beside her at the desk. ‘Teamwork, huh? That’s another set of happy customers en route for home, and with any luck, some of them will book the next trip here as soon as they get through their front door.’

Alex grinned, shoving a hand through his fine sandy hair and making it stick up in all directions. ‘Four from last week have booked in for the Advent Special in December, did I tell you? Lakeside really is going from strength to strength, isn’t it?’

‘We are, and I meant what I said about teamwork. You’re the best receptionist we could wish for, and with your mum in charge of organising the spa shop – well, it all adds to the family-run hotel atmosphere that keeps the guests coming back.’

Alex blushed. ‘One big happy family, huh? And Flavia’s out helping Mum with her shopping as we speak.’

Ah. Stacy turned away to tidy her side of the desk. Flavia was a bit of a worry. She was a lovely girl and was shaping up well as a receptionist, but she’d fallen hard for Alex, who was lovely too, and while there was nothing to stop the pair of them getting together, even nearly six months after splitting up with his previous girlfriend, Alex didn’t seem in any hurry to get back into the dating game. To add to the complications, his mum suffered from agoraphobia, though she was in a much better place these days, coping with her work for the hotel and managing to get out and about with minimal support. This was often provided by Flavia, whose own mum lived on the other side of Switzerland, so theoretically it was win-win all round, but still… The girl must be aware of Alex’s indifference, and that would hurt. Stacy sighed. She and Rico were so happy – it was hard not to want the same rose-tinted feeling for everyone around her. Problem was, life wasn’t like that.

A bang came from outside, and she pulled a face at Alex. ‘Keep up the good work, anyway. We’ll need all the guests we can get for the next year or two to pay for these renovations at the boathouse. I’d better see what Rico’s up to out there.’

Leaving Alex at the desk, she grabbed her phone and set off. Rico should have been back by this time; he’d only gone for a quick look at what the builders had done yesterday. The boathouse was a long, grey stone building bordering on the lake bank, and they were turning it into a sauna and fitness room to replace the facilities currently in the cellar of the main building. Humming, Stacy hurried out through the terrace bar, where day tourists as well as remaining hotel guests were sitting outside in the warm June sunshine. A few stray geranium petals floated down from one of the balconies, and she glanced up at the hotel. Lakeside was your typical dark brown wooden chalet, four storeys high with pink and white geraniums already spilling over the window boxes on each balcony. Home, and looking perfect, if she said so herself.

The terrace ended by the lawn, and Stacy stood still for a moment to gaze out over the vast expanse of Lake Constance, a handful of metres away. Germany and Austria were hazy green blobs in the distance today and the lake was as blue as she’d seen it, the family cabin cruiser Lakeside Lady bobbing up and down in the water. Stacy followed the path round to the landing place, Rico’s whistle in the boathouse reaching her ears even before she went inside. Good, he was happy. He’d been pensive about the build at first. In the days before the hotel was so successful, he’d dreamed of opening his own IT business in the boathouse. He was doing a part-time master’s degree in IT now, but whether he’d ever start a business was in the stars. Stacy hoped he would, but then what would happen to the hotel? She put the thought to one side – that was future music.

The boathouse door was open and she stepped inside, sniffing the dry, earthy smell of new wood. Rico was in the semi-installed staffroom, bending over plans laid out on the dusty work surface.

He straightened up and waved a hand at the plan. ‘We’re well on schedule here. The building should be finished by the time we get back from England, although I have a feeling there’s a problem with the new landing place outside. They’re supposed to start renovating it next week, but I suspect Dad’s made a mistake with his measurements – the jetty looks huge on the plan. You’d think Lakeside Lady was an ocean liner. I’ll call him later.’

‘When are we expecting him here?’

‘He and Carol are coming on Wednesday, and they’ll stay all the time we’re away, apart from the three days they’ll be in Elton Abbey for the blessing.’

‘I’m sure Ralph knows what he was doing with the plans, Rico. Don’t forget he works in a boatyard!’

Rico pushed the diagram to one side. ‘Useful, isn’t he? Ex-hotel manager turned boatyard expert… But I’ll call him anyway. And while we’re talking about the plans, have a look and tell me what you think about this.’ He pulled another folded paper from a folder and spread it out on top of the boathouse plan.

Stacy frowned. ‘Another building?’ This one was behind the boathouse, closer to the street, and from what she could see it was a large, two-storey house with a cellar and attic, as well as a generous garden back and front.

Rico smirked. ‘Not any old building. Our future home. If we have a good year now, we could start building next spring. The layout inside is just my ideas, of course we’d plan the real thing together, but wouldn’t it be cool to have our own space? We’ll be completely separate to the hotel, with a private garden and everything. Perfect for starting a family later. What do you think?’

Shock rippled through Stacy, leaving her head reeling. Perfect for starting a family later. She didn’t want to start a family later, she wanted to start one as quickly as possible after the wedding, and it had never entered her head that Rico might not feel the same way. He’d said ages ago he wanted kids and at their age, somehow she’d assumed they would start a family right away. Oh, they’d talked about building their own place one day, but they had a lovely home in the flat, and they could easily do the having babies and happy-ever-after bit there too, at least at the start of family life. Living in the hotel would make being a working mum so much easier. And all that was before you even thought about how much a house like this one would cost.

Rico was beaming proudly at his plan, and she put a hand on his shoulder, searching for the right words. ‘Rico, love – it looks amazing, but I – I thought we were going to try for a baby sort of, soon? I don’t want to be an older mother.’

It was Rico’s turn to look blank. ‘Good grief, you’re not even thirty yet.’

‘I’d be well over thirty if we waited until we could move into a house that isn’t being started until next year. And yes, I know loads of people have babies much older than that, but… Rico, I really want to start soon. We need to think about a brother or sister or two for the baby, as well.’

He stared at her, then back at his plan. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘I am. It looks gorgeous. All I’m saying is we could have a baby while we’re still living in the flat.’ Heavens, this was surreal. Babies weren’t what they should be worrying about in the run-up to a romantic, happy-ever-after wedding.

He folded the plan away. ‘Let’s talk about it another time. We’ll be able to make plans in peace and quiet when we’re on our honeymoon.’

Stacy nodded, trying to ignore the apprehensive niggle in her gut. It wasn’t unreasonable to want a family soon, was it? Building a house was expensive – could they afford all this, and a baby too? She shivered suddenly; eek, someone was walking over her grave.

Seven days to go…

Chapter Two

Flavia Schneider pulled into an empty space outside Denise’s block of flats and smiled at the older woman in the passenger seat. Saturday morning at the shops at their busiest was a new high for Alex’s mum, who’d spent over a year confined to her solitary flat and refusing to accept help for her agoraphobia. Changed days. As soon as Alex started working at Lakeside and his mum met Stacy and allowed her to help, Denise had managed to get out and slowly increase what she was comfortable doing. So far, that hadn’t included going anywhere alone, but hopefully it was only a matter of time.

‘Thank you, Flavia.’ Denise touched Flavia’s jade green T-shirt. ‘That colour suits you, you know. It brings out the red glints in your hair.’

Flavia glowed. Her shoulder length mousy-brown hair didn’t have a lot going for it, and how kind Denise was. ‘Thanks for the compliment. Let’s get your shopping inside.’

Denise lifted her handbag and opened the passenger seat door. ‘Got time for some iced tea?’

Didn’t she just. Flavia opened the boot for Denise to extract her shopping, and followed her up to the first floor.

Denise opened the flat door. ‘Have a seat on the balcony, and I’ll bring the drinks out.’

She and the shopping vanished into the small kitchen, and Flavia went into the living room. She stopped by the sofa to say hello to Snowy, Denise’s cat, who gave her the usual disdainful glare before graciously allowing herself to be stroked. Flavia fussed over the cat, then a postcard of New York by night on the coffee table caught her eye. Denise appeared with two long glasses and saw her looking.

‘Looks amazing, doesn’t it? All those lights… Zoe was there with the orchestra. It was the last performance of the tour before they came home to Switzerland. I’ll miss getting cards from exotic locations!’

Flavia’s mouth went dry. Zoe was – no, Zoe had been the love of Alex’s life until they split up last December. And the split hadn’t been Alex’s idea, she knew that for sure. It was more to do with Zoe being a hugely talented violinist in the prestigious Zurich Alhambra Orchestra and having to live in Zurich. Now she was back after a long tour abroad, and not only that, Denise was coping much better with her agoraphobia and was well integrated in the community. Theoretically, there was nothing to stop Alex packing all his worldly goods and going to be a receptionist in Zurich. And the very fact that Zoe had been sending Denise postcards proved – what? That Zoe was still a part of Alex’s life, that was what.

Her heart thundering miserably, Flavia followed Denise out to the balcony. The flat was near the top of a hill and the view over the lake was spectacular, but today she saw none of it. Feeling jealous like this was awful. She’d fallen for Alex when he started at the hotel, almost the first time she’d set eyes on him, actually, but he’d been with Zoe then. And nowadays, although he had almost daily opportunities to ask her out, or at least give her some indication that she was more than a workmate his mum was friendly with, he’d never even hinted at a date. And she wasn’t the kind of person who went round asking guys out, either. Flavia grimaced. Maybe she should learn.

She cleared her throat. ‘Have you seen her yet? Zoe, I mean? Bet she has some great photos, all those places they went to.’

Denise gave her a look. ‘No, I haven’t. I don’t know if I will, either, but there are things a mother should keep well out of. Especially when their children are grown men who left the nest years ago. I know you have a soft spot for Alex, Flavia. But – be careful. I don’t think he knows himself what he wants.’

‘I will.’ Flavia lifted her glass and took a big swallow of iced tea. ‘Don’t worry about me. We have more important things to talk about – what are you wearing to Stacy’s wedding?’

It was an excellent change of subject. Alex’s name didn’t come up again, and half an hour later, Flavia was on her way home with her own shopping and her aching heart. Hankering after Alex seemed hopeless, but oh… if only it wasn’t. He was kind, funny, sweet – a lovely guy, in fact. But to him, she was just little Flavia, the youngest member of staff who got into scrapes and needed a helping hand all too frequently. And she didn’t know how to change that.

Rico’s stomach growled as he sat prodding the keyboard in the office behind reception. Heck, it was almost two o’clock, and he and Stacy hadn’t even had lunch yet. Saturdays were always like that, bidding goodbye to last week’s guests then preparing for the new influx, which was now imminent. Not such a big influx this time, as they were closing on Friday and as a result, fewer people had reserved rooms. Hopefully, they’d make up the shortfall with a few extra spontaneous cycling tourists, the people who came in for one night on their bike run round the lake. His stomach growled again, but at last – here was Flavia to help Alex man the desk. Rico left them to book in the new guests and took the lift up to the flat for a bite to eat on the run. Sandwiches would be quickest.

He was still making them when Stacy arrived, and she sat at the table opening today’s pile of wedding cards and throwing him the odd remark while he organised cheese and pickle on crusty bread for them both. Rico dropped a kiss on the top of her head on his way to the fridge. They should make the most of the next few days home alone here. With Stacy’s best friend Emily and her husband Alan arriving from England on Monday, Dad and Carol on Wednesday, and Stacy’s parents on Thursday, the flat was going to be bursting at the seams soon. Still, it would be fun to celebrate all together. The usual wistful thought slid into his head. At long last he and Stacy were going to be married, and if only Mum had been here to see it. She’d have loved Stacy.

Rico swallowed. You couldn’t change the past, and you couldn’t wish people back, not really… but sometimes he did. He pictured Ralph at the wedding, Carol beside him. The pair had met and fallen in love last Christmas, and Carol lived across the lake in Friedrichshafen now, nicely between her son in Munich and Ralph in Lugano. It was all going well for Dad and Carol, but fond as Rico was of her, she would never replace his mother. Not that she wanted to, of course, but–

‘Any danger of those sandwiches being ready today?’ Stacy twisted round in her chair, her smile fading. ‘You look like you’re having complicated thoughts, Rico Weber. Spill.’

‘Just wishing Mum was here.’ Rico slapped the lids on the sandwiches and sat down with them. ‘And yes, I know. It’s okay.’

Stacy gave his hand a squeeze, then lifted a sandwich and took a huge bite. It was a moment before she could speak. ‘Yum. She’ll be with us in spirit, Rico. I’ll be wearing her sapphire pendant and bracelet, remember?’

Of course he remembered. They chewed their way through the sandwiches, talking about the wedding arrangements, then Rico left Stacy clearing up and went out to the balcony to call his father. Hopefully he was wrong about those plans; an over-large jetty would be expensive as well as unnecessary.

‘Rico, son!’

Ralph was in his brother’s boatyard in Lugano; Rico could hear Guido’s voice booming in the background. He pictured Lake Lugano in the sunshine, high wooded hills on either side of the bay, then realised he was also hearing the drum of rain on the boatyard roof.

‘Hey, Dad. Wet day south of the Alps?’

‘Set to be a wet week. I’m looking forward to your Lakeside summer sunshine. How’s things?’

Rico reported progress on the boathouse renovation, then crossed his fingers. ‘Dad – the plan of the new landing place looks biggish to me. It’s not a mistake, is it?’

‘No, it’s fine. Larger than it is now, yes, but we’ll be glad of more space sometime, and with the renovation going forward anyway, I thought it was a good opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.’

‘It’s going to be an expensive two birds we’re killing. By the look of these plans we could bring an ocean liner alongside. What are we going to do with all that mooring space?’

Ralph was annoyingly cheerful. ‘We’ll find something, never fear. You could think about getting some pedalos for the guests to hire.’

Rico sniffed. Pedalos weren’t a bad idea, but still… ‘I suppose it’s too late to change the plans?’

‘You suppose right. Rico, trust me. You’ll be glad of those extra metres someday, I promise.’

Ralph chatted for a few more minutes, then rang off. Rico trailed back to the kitchen, unable to stop the little thread of worry snaking through his gut. What had his father been thinking? The wedding was expensive – not that he grudged that – but a super-sized jetty seemed surplus to Lakeside requirements. The hotel was doing well, but they still couldn’t afford to throw money around as if there was no tomorrow. He’d better get hold of some pedalos the moment they returned from England.

Rico slumped down at the table, mentally totting up their available cash. And it wasn’t just the boathouse build, either; Stacy’s wish to start a family the moment they were respectably married was another worry. Babies were arguably even more expensive than pedalos, and he’d never even dreamt of having one until he’d finished his master’s. Waiting until they had a nice house of their own too would be much more sensible. They were young, and there was a lot to be said for separating your home life and your work. But Stacy clearly didn’t see it like that.

The postcard of Zurich on the fridge door swam into view. Bummer, he’d forgotten to ask if Dad knew anything about MJ. Rico sniffed again. Hopefully, MJ would turn out to be some kind of fairy godmother, or the genie in the bottle. They could do with a few magic wishes…