by A. D. Winch
We are writing and wishing you a very Happy Christmas. You’re mother and me we were worrying you will be alone during the holiday but we have solved this problem.
Eric stopped reading the imperfect English. He knew what his father was going to write next.
Ursula took a deep breath and, translating into French for Mémé, read on.
To keep Eric company we would like to be inviting you to our winter chalet in the mountains in Switzerland. We would like you to arrive on the 26th December and stay until after the New Year. Andrea has been arranging all the details and if you agree we would be very welcome to have you staying in out chalet. Natrually we will be paying for all your taxi and flights for the three of you.
Please phone Andrea to be confirming and we wish you a Happy Christmas and Merry New Year.
Unsure of whether he was happy, sad, angry or all three, Eric read on.
Lots of love,
Papa and Mama xxxxx
“Fantastic!” said Granddad Benjamin gleefully and almost jumped for joy.
“Incroyable!” added Mémé.
“We had better pack,” suggested Granddad Benjamin.
“And phone that lady,” reminded Mémé.
Ursula remained silent. Her grandparents had already forgotten the numerous video phone calls she had made to them on the subject of Eric and the problems she had with him. The thought of spending any more time with him did not appeal in the slightest.
“But Granddad,” she said, trying to find an excuse as to why they couldn’t go, “you’re not well. What if anything happens to you?”
“You’re right; I’m not well,” he replied with a smile, “but I am much better. That lovely girl Andrea paid for me to see a specialist. The doctor said she could help me, and she has put me on some new medication. It was uncomfortable at first but since then I’ve felt much better. Isn’t that true, Marie-Thérèse?”
He looked at his wife for support.
“Oui, c’est vrai,” she answered. “He even helps me with the cleaning now... which means I have to do more cleaning afterwards!”
Ursula looked for another means of escape, “But Mémé, you would have to leave your flat for at least a week.”
“Ce n’est pas un problème,” she replied. “When you were here, you were our eyes and ears to the outside world, but since you have been away, we go outside regularly. It is not bad at all. The news makes the modern world seem a scary place but actually it is fine.”
Ursula knew she had lost. Also, she did not want to stand in the way of her grandparents and a free holiday. To the best of her knowledge they had never had a holiday, ever. When she had won the puzzle competition and had left them for Prague, they had not stood in her way. Therefore, she would not stand in their way now.
“Good,” she lied, “what a great Christmas surprise!”
Great, thought Eric, what a surprise! Closing his eyes, he tried to fall back to sleep, but mixed emotions and daylight kept him awake.
Ursula had only flown twice in her life. The first time was to get to Prague and had been an interesting journey. The second time was to return to Paris from Prague. Andrea had sorted out everything for her at the airport but flying alone had been as dull as dishwater. She did not consider herself an experienced flyer; however, compared to her grandparents, she was an expert. Consequently she found herself in charge of getting the three of them to Switzerland.
During her time away, both her grandparents seemed to have changed for the better. For a start, they were now much keener to spend time outdoors, and this made leaving the flat a lot easier than she had expected. As they walked to the taxi, Ursula worried that her grandparents’ newfound joie de vivre was because their granddaughter was out of the way in Prague. It was true that Mémé worried less about Ursula now, but she also worried far less about Granddad Benjamin too. The new medicines he was receiving had improved his life immeasurably which, in turn, had improved hers.
The taxi arrived before dawn, and the ride was fun. Mémé and Granddad Benjamin were glued to the windows like two children. They talked constantly about everything they saw and made comments on how much Paris had changed since they were young. Ursula enjoyed listening to them and heard stories she had never been told before. The taxi left the centre of Paris and headed for the airport. In the car, the conversation changed. They were excited about seeing the airport, the planes and, flying for the first time in their lives.
As they entered the airport, Mémé and Granddad Benjamin took out their new passports. Andrea had helped to get them while Ursula was away in case they needed, or wanted, to visit her. This trip was the first time they were to use them, and they were both on edge. In the queue for the check-in, they kept looking at their passport photos and tried to memorize their photo booth poses. Both were worried that unless they looked exactly the same, the check-in man would not recognize them as the people in the photos. They had even worn the same clothes, just to be on the safe side. Unfortunately, Granddad Benjamin was smiling like a demon on his photo, and Mémé looked like she had just sat on a drawing pin on hers.
Anxiously, Ursula’s grandparents handed over their passports to the bored looking man at the check-in desk. He didn’t even look up at them. With his head bowed, he took the passports, opened them quickly and then looked up at Granddad Benjamin and Mémé. To his surprise he was confronted by a smiling demon and an old woman who had sat on a pin. He did not blink an eye. Instead, he thanked them, handed back the passports and tried to hide the fact that he thought he was dealing with a family of lunatics. This became harder with each security question he had to ask.
“Did you pack these bags yourself?” he asked in solemn French, as Ursula put three suitcases onto the scales attached to his desk.
Mémé looked shocked that she should be asked such a question and replied, “Do I look like someone who would ask somebody else to pack my bags? I may be old, but I still have all my faculties young man. Anyway, who would I ask? Someone from...”
Ursula interrupted, “Yes.”
The man looked at his list of questions and then at the length of the queue. In his mind, he weighed up the amount of time it would take to ask each one against how many people would miss their flights. He thought he could probably ask two more.
“Has anyone asked you to carry anything on the plane for them?”
“Like what?” asked Mémé.
This was not the answer he had expected.
“Er, like anything.”
“Do we look like porters?” asked Mémé. “Do we look like the kind of people who would carry other people’s things for them? Do we...”
Ursula interrupted again, “No.”
The check-in man was rapidly losing his patience and decided to ask one last question, “Have you packed any of these items?”
He showed them a list of prohibited items.
Mémé took her glasses from their case and balanced them delicately on her nose. She picked up the list of items and studied it carefully. After looking at every item and, oblivious to the tutting behind her, she passed the list back to the check-in man.
“Young man, are you having a joke? Why on earth would we take explosives, handguns and swords! Do we look like criminals?”
“I’ll take that as a no,” he said, thrust the tickets into their hands, pressed the conveyor belt button and wished them a pleasant flight.
Mémé watched the bags trundle away on the conveyor belt and screamed, “Jerome! He’s taking our bags! Do something!”
Before Ursula could explain, Granddad Benjamin stumbled onto the moving conveyor belt, fell over and promptly disappeared from view in pursuit of the bags.
A while later, two giggling policemen carrying very large guns, accompanied Mémé and Ursula to the runway. They found Granddad Benjamin on a trolley surrounded by bags being placed in the cargo hold of the plane.
Once the three of them were on the aircraft the rest of the journey was happily much less eventful.
In fact, Granddad Benjamin’s loud yippee on landing was the most interesting part of the flight.
Geneva airport was very busy. The arrival lounge was full of people carrying skis, snowboards and big bags full of winter clothes. Towering above them all was a very tall man holding a board with their names on it. He whisked the Benjamins out of the arrival lounge, into a Range Rover and drove them out of the airport. Within a few minutes, they were on the motorway and on their way to the Meyer’s chalet in the Swiss Alps.
The drive along the Swiss motorway was the most memorable Ursula had ever done, not that she had been in many cars. Snow covered mountains that touched white, fluffy clouds, rose high above them on either side of the motorway. Below them was Lac Léman, a glistening lake in the winter sun that stretched as far as they could see. In places, the motorway pierced mountains and disappeared into numerous tunnels. In other places, it gripped the side of the mountain like a shelf on a wall.
After they came off the motorway they drove through a small town and then onto a narrow mountain road. It twisted and turned as they drove upwards past wooden chalets and snowy trees. Occasionally they heard cowbells ringing from inside old, hay covered barns, and they saw animal tracks in the snow. Ursula would not move from the window and kept looking down at the small town below. With every bend in the road, the town became smaller and smaller. Finally, the driver steered the car around a particularly tight bend, and a plain sign welcomed them to the village of Champex.
In the centre of the village tourists and locals skated on a frozen lake shaped like the number eight. A few guest houses sat on its shore with chalkboards advertising comfortable beds and home cooked food. Further away, picturesque wooden chalets were scattered back from the lake and clung to the slopes of steep mountains.
The Range Rover turned off the village road and onto a slushy track. They passed through thick, snow covered pine trees before arriving in a clearing. On one edge, surrounded by trees, was a large chalet. The driver slowed down and stopped near the front entrance.
Wide, stone steps led up to the door and underneath them were piles of neatly arranged logs. Close by, they could see Andrea and Eric sawing through a dead tree trunk. Eric was dressed in dark blue, ski clothes and his face was red from the exercise. Ursula jumped out of the car and into the snow. It was freezing and much colder than she anticipated. She waved to Andrea, who did not seem to notice the chill as she was wearing only a T-shirt, her leather jacket and trousers.
Andrea put the saw down and came over to greet the Benjamins. She ushered them out of the cold and into the chalet. Eric ignored them. He picked up an axe and began to chop the trunk into log sized pieces.
By lunch time, Ursula had searched the whole chalet. She had discovered that all the walls, ceilings, floors, doors and furniture were made of wood. Mountain scene paintings, of varying quality, were dotted around the bedrooms, and under-floor heating ensured the chalet stayed warm. The biggest room in the chalet was multi-purpose and contained a dining room, kitchen and lounge. In the middle of the room were two fat sofas placed either side of a thick, woollen rug. Dominating the room was a burning, log fire with the skull of a deer above it and a huge flat screen television beside it. On the opposite wall, floor to ceiling windows gave impressive views of the picturesque village, the frozen lake and the imposing mountains.
The worries that had been playing on Ursula’s mind disappeared. Eric obviously felt the same as her and was keeping his distance. Her grandparents loved where they were and to see them so happy made Ursula feel much more relaxed. Even the appearance of a sullen looking Eric at lunch could not dampen the mood.
The table sat six, three on either side. Eric sat on the middle seat and spread himself out, silently daring anyone to sit beside him. Granddad Benjamin and Mémé dared.
“Hello,” greeted Granddad Benjamin, “I’m Jerome.”
He put out his hand and Eric reluctantly took it.
“Eric," he replied sulkily.
“Nice to meet you, Eric, and this is my beautiful wife, Marie-Thérèse, but you had better call her Madame Benjamin or Mémé, or she will probably hit me.”
A strange thing then happened, and for a fraction of a second Eric almost smiled. Before his smile became noticeable, he got a grip on himself, his face returned to a frown and he turned to Mémé.
“Bonjour,” Eric greeted sullenly.
He put out his hand but Mémé completely ignored it and instead gave him a big hug. Eric did not have time to escape and did not know what to do.
Mémé held him close and whispered in his ear, “You poor boy. How could your parents leave such a lovely boy alone for so long?”
She let go, and Eric was even more confused. His head was spinning. This was not part of his game plan. Before he had a chance to say anything Mémé thrust a homemade Christmas biscuit into his mouth and a present into his hands.
Eric’s eyes bulged and, spraying crumbs everywhere he mumbled, “Merci.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Eric. I’m sure you have better manners,” scolded Mémé, wiping the crumbs off the table and into her hand.
“Je suis desolé, Madame Benjamin,” replied Eric and shot more crumbs over the table.
Ursula’s mouth dropped open. Her grandparents had made Eric speak more in three minutes than she had managed in three months. What’s more, he had spoken French without complaint and had even exhibited manners, a characteristic Ursula thought he did not possess.
“And you can close your mouth too,” Mémé told Ursula. “We brought you up to be a young lady not a goldfish.”
At this comment something, remarkable happened. Eric laughed. More crumbs flew over the table which sent Mémé into a fit which, in turn, caused Ursula to start laughing. Granddad Benjamin began to mimic his wife as she picked crumbs off the table, and this made the two children laugh even harder. Only the arrival of Andrea, carrying four plates of Rösti, briefly calmed everybody down. She was thoroughly confused by what had just happened and the moment she returned to the kitchen Eric and Ursula couldn’t help but laugh even more.
In spite of their shared laughter, Eric and Ursula did not talk to each other over lunch. They joined in the conversation, with Granddad Benjamin and Mémé, but did not exchange any words directly. After everyone had finished eating, Andrea cleared away the plates and served some Christmas stollen.
“Are you going to open your present?” Granddad Benjamin asked Eric expectantly.
He pointed to a small box which had been forgotten during the laughter and meal.
“Er, I’m not sure, maybe I should wait until after dessert,” replied Eric in French, looking nervously at Mémé.
“You open it when you want, mon cheri,” said Mémé.
Ursula felt as if she had just been slapped around the face. How could Mémé call Eric, mon cheri?
‘I’ll open it now then,” decided Eric and tore off the wrapping paper. Inside he found a little book of Sudoku puzzles and a box of magic tricks.
“Ursula loves those puzzles, so we thought you would too,” explained Mémé.
“Thank you,” said Eric gratefully, “that’s very kind of you.”
Ursula looked amazed at Eric’s politeness. She couldn’t believe it.
“You’re very welcome,” said Ursula’s grandparents together.
You’re very welcome, thought Ursula to herself. After all the things Eric did to me, and I told you about, how can he be very welcome?
She smiled weakly but on the inside she was sulking. If she could have reached him, she would have kicked Eric under the table.
Following lunch, the five of them went for a walk to the lake. The sky was bright blue; snow crunched softly underfoot and whenever they opened their mouths their breath sparkled in the cold air. Ursula looked at her grandparents. They looked younger than when they had arrived. Granddad Benjamin even wanted to try out an exercise station they passed, but Mémé stopped him.
While walking around th
e frozen lake, they passed eleven more exercise stations. Each one was different, and together they formed a circuit. Andrea explained that they were part of a local summer exercise programme called Parcour Vita that worked the heart and the muscles.
“How long does it take to do them all and run round the lake?” asked Granddad Benjamin.
“A healthy adult will do this course in forty minutes,” Andrea answered.
“But I’ve done it in thirty-eight minutes,” boasted Eric with a smile, walking between Ursula’s grandparents.
“Well done,” congratulated Granddad Benjamin.
Unable to stop herself Ursula blurted out, “Then I could do it in thirty-seven minutes.”
The smile on Eric’s face disappeared the moment Ursula opened her mouth.
“I think it is highly unlikely either of you could beat a time set by adults,” said Mémé, daring either of them to say differently.
They both did and at exactly the same time.
“You will have to prove it then,” Granddad Benjamin told them. “Tomorrow morning you can race around the circuit and the person who comes first gets three of Mémé’s homemade Christmas biscuits.”
“Jerome!” exclaimed Mémé.
But it was too late, the two children had already agreed.
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Chapter 13 - The Race around Champex Lake
The next morning the temperature in the mountains rose slightly. Dark clouds blew over the village, and they hung menacingly above the lake. The laughter of the previous day’s lunch was forgotten, and both children withdrew into themselves. As usual they wouldn’t speak to each other but now they kept away from the adults too. Mémé tried to stop the race, but her husband felt strongly that it would do the two children some good to settle their differences.
When the children and Granddad Benjamin left the chalet, it was snowing heavily. Large flakes filled the sky and made it difficult to see too far ahead. Eric didn’t care about the cold and walked quickly away from the Benjamins. Ursula kept up with him. She wanted to prove that she was equally as fast. This left Granddad Benjamin walking slowly behind. Squinting through the falling snow, he watched the two children. He could just make out a dark blue blur as Eric and a yellow blur as Ursula. They were both getting further and further away from him, and their pace was quickening.
