I owe Eva so much. Thinking about her gives me a little strength. I want to be the remarkable woman she believes me to be.
I‘m not sure how long I sit there at the cantine, but it‘s long enough for the lunchtime crowd to turn up and my chocolate to go cold.
Something clicks inside me. I‘m past this kind of behaviour. This isn‘t me any more. I‘m not sitting shivering and soaked to the skin on the sticky lino floor of a rented flat I‘m about to get kicked out of. I had a bad experience with Thomas that brought back memories, that‘s all.
No biggie.
I give myself a mental shake and slip away, cautiously checking Thomas has left first.
‘Hey.’
I turn to see Dan ambling towards me, a frown creasing his forehead.
‘Beth, what‘s wrong?’ His voice is gentle but it still makes me want to flinch away.
His eyes are filled with such concern I have to blink hard to avoid bursting into tears on the spot.
I feel utterly blank, incapable of speech. I stare back, helpless.
‘Okay, different question.’ His frown deepens. ‘What can I do to help?’
‘Somewhere quiet. I need somewhere quiet.’ I manage to speak, but don‘t know what I expect him to do. Chalet Repos can be anything but peaceful, despite its name.
‘Okay, follow me.’
It‘s a measure of how shaken I am that I follow him without question.
He chats to me about the lessons he taught this morning, not seeming to need my input, which is just as well. After a while I‘m calmer.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask, not recognising our route.
His anecdotes about teaching bratty schoolchildren and lecherous yummy mummies have soothed me and left me feeling more myself again.
‘My camper van.’
‘Oh? You live in a camper van? Don‘t you get cold at night?’
‘No, I‘m hooked up to electric, so it‘s nice and toasty. And when the temperature drops lower than minus ten you get used to wearing several layers to bed.’
Once we‘re at the camper van I hesitate. I barely know Dan, so is getting into his van really a wise move? He feels okay, my intuition isn‘t sounding a mental klaxon. Although my supposed intuition didn‘t stop me going home with Thomas, did it?
Uneasiness stirs at the back of my mind that I didn‘t bother to listen to my instincts the night of the party. I was deliberately reckless, trying to prove a point to myself. I‘m sure Eva could tell me why but having a trained psychotherapist as a surrogate mother doesn‘t help when you‘re deliberately ignoring the blindingly obvious.
‘I‘ll give you the keys if you like,’ he says lightly. ‘If it makes you more comfortable.’
‘Okay.’
If my acceptance surprises him he doesn‘t show it, just unlocks the van and hands the keys to me. It flashes through my mind that I could always use them between my knuckles as a weapon.
If I had to. If it turns out my instincts about Dan are wrong.
As quickly as the thought appears, I dismiss it. Isn‘t this why I came to Verbier? So I could live a life not governed by fear and hyper-vigilance and try to feel at least semi-normal again.
I slip the keys into my pocket and climb into the van after Dan.
‘This is really nice.’ I stare around at the brightly coloured cotton throws covering the seating area. It looks cosy.
‘You sound surprised.’ Dan grins.
‘I wasn‘t expecting it to be so …’
‘Clean? Tidy?’ His grin widens, it‘s infectious.
‘Well, yes, I suppose.’ I smile back. ‘Although I was going to say cosy.’
‘What can I say? I‘ll let you into a secret.’ He lowers his voice and whispers ‘I like cleaning.’
‘No,’ I reply with mock horror. ‘You are weird. Fancy swapping jobs? Do you cook too?’
‘Yes, I love cooking. I haven‘t got much space here, but I try to avoid eating junk and cook all my meals from scratch.’
‘Marry me,’ I joke.
‘Okay then.’ He fixes his gaze on me in a way that turns the jokey atmosphere into something more serious.
My cheeks grow hot and I glance down at my hands.
‘Fancy a cuppa?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ I sit down and lightly finger one of the cotton throws. It‘s a joyful swirling explosion of vibrant colours: blues and purples threaded with gold. I look down at my black salopettes and long-sleeved black t-shirt, remembering with a pang the brightly coloured clothes I used to wear. In particular, I miss the pretty summer dress I was wearing when I was attacked. I never saw it again, as it became a piece of evidence. Fat lot of good that did. ‘This is gorgeous.’
‘It‘s from India. And the rug on the floor is from Peru.’
‘You‘re a traveler, then?’
‘In that I like to travel, yes, I suppose so.’ He puts the kettle on and sits opposite me. ‘But I like to do a lot of things. It‘s an odd human obsession, wanting to label everything, don‘t you think? Label, classify and divide.’
‘Um, I haven‘t really thought about it. I was just making conversation, really.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘So, if you were to think about it what label would you give yourself?’
‘I‘m just a chalet girl, I‘m no one interesting.’ I shrug.
‘I find the people who think they are interesting are always dull and those who say they‘re not are nearly always wrong or lying.’ He fixes me with a penetrating gaze that makes my skin tingle. Like I‘m a jumbled-up jigsaw and he‘s looking for the edge pieces, working out where to start. The scrutiny makes me uncomfortable. Why can‘t he be superficial and boring, like the majority of the population?
But if he was, I wouldn‘t be here, would I? Maybe I want to be solved after all. I want him to put the pieces of me back together. If it‘s possible and the missing pieces aren‘t irretrievably lost.
‘Can I ask you a question?’ Dan leans forward and I tense mentally, waiting for the question that will penetrate my defences.
I nod.
‘Do you take milk and sugar?’ His lips quirk.
‘Just milk, thanks.’ I narrow my eyes. He‘s playing me.
Even worse, I‘m enjoying it. Oh crap. I exhale slowly and try to relax. It‘s just a cup of tea, not an interrogation. It‘s not like he can really see inside me, it just feels like it.
When he hands me the tea our fingers brush briefly and a jolt of arousal stabs at me. Heat floods my cheeks.
‘It‘s nice and warm in here,’ I bite my lip.
‘Yes, now are you going to tell me?’
‘Tell you what?’
‘What makes you so interesting?’
‘I‘m not.’ I shake my head and take a sip of tea, even though it‘s really still too hot.
‘So you want me to work it out? Okay.’ Dan tilts his head to one side. ‘Hmm. So tell me, Beth, what‘s your story?’
‘I haven‘t got a story.’ I roll my eyes.
‘Okaaay. Most people like talking about themselves,’ he replies equably.
‘I‘m not most people.’ I take another sip of scorching tea. ‘I‘m just a …’
‘Chalet girl, right,’ Dan cuts in. ‘So, what were your parents like?’
‘Dan, I‘m not talking about my childhood.’ My jaw clenches. ‘We could talk about you instead. Why don‘t we do your story?’
I don‘t know why I‘m being such a bitch. The nicer he is the grouchier I feel. It‘s because he‘s probing, pressing at the painful abscess. I‘ve noticed pain tends to make people grumpy, whether it‘s physical or emotional.
‘Hmm, I sense a big secret.’
I scowl at him and sip more tea, it‘s more soothing now it‘s cooling.
‘You were raised by the government to be a super spy and you can‘t talk because you‘re bound by the Official Secrets Act?’ He quirks a brow.
I raise my eyes to the ceiling but the corners of my lips twitch.
‘That‘s
it, isn‘t it? You‘re on a secret mission right now, aren‘t you?’
‘Yes, that‘s right, I‘ve got to find the world‘s most annoying inhabitants and bump them off one by one,’ I quip. ‘I thought I‘d start with you.’
‘Ouch.’ He places a hand on his chest. ‘So how do you plan to do it? Please say you’re going to seduce me first? Like a black-widow spider. I‘ve always thought if you‘ve got to go, that would be the way I‘d choose.’
‘Idiot.’ I smile.
‘Annoying and an idiot? You‘re just full of praise for me today. Are you this nice to everyone who makes you tea?’ He shakes his head. ‘Any more compliments, while you‘re at it?’
‘Oh I don‘t know. I‘m sure some more will spring to mind, the more time I spend with you. You just seem to inspire them.’ I‘m smiling, my bad mood receding finally. Something about Dan puts me at ease. ‘I am grateful for the tea, though, thank you.’
‘You‘re planning to spend more time with me, then?’ He raises an eyebrow and his mouth curves into a smile.
‘Maybe, maybe not.’ I feel my own mouth twitching in response.
I‘m mirroring him. Why on earth am I mirroring him? I don‘t want him to get the wrong idea and leap straight into another mistake. Next time, and no doubt there will be a next time, I‘ll be more careful about who I sleep with.
I look away, feeling a flush creeping up my neck. The camper van feels very cramped all of a sudden, the teasing atmosphere teetering on the edge of something far more complex.
‘More tea? I think I‘ve got some chocolate digestives somewhere.’ Dan stands up suddenly and starts rummaging in an overhead locker, defusing the tension.
‘Sure, why not? Where the heck did you get chocolate digestives? I haven‘t seen any in Migros.’
My appetite has returned. I think I might actually be able to swallow some food now.
‘I have my sources,’ Dan winks. ‘You‘ll have to come to me for a fix when you need one.’
‘We are talking about chocolate biscuits, aren‘t we?’
‘Why? What else could we be talking about?’ He opens the packet and hands it to me. ‘Do you have other needs you‘d like me to satisfy? Is there something else you fancy?’
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making me laugh.
‘Perhaps.’ I take a bite of biscuit. ‘Got any Ginger Nuts?’
‘If you want to know the colour of my nuts you‘re going to have to buy me dinner first.’
‘Dan, do you take anything seriously?’ I laugh again and then cough, choking on a biscuit crumb.
‘Sometimes, but right now I‘d much rather see you smile. I like making you smile,’ he says softly. ‘Do you want to tell me what upset you so much earlier?’
I shake my head and cast my eyes down to my tea. My hands cradle the plastic mug.
‘Would you like another biscuit?’
I look up and see only kindness. No pressure.
I nod. ‘Thanks. So when were you in Peru?’
‘I visit South America regularly. My parents are missionaries, and they work with a charity in Colombia.’
‘Missionaries? Seriously?’
‘Yes, seriously. Missionaries do still exist, you know. They take their skills where they‘re needed.’
‘Oh, right.’ I frown. Dan and I are clearly not from the same world. What on earth would they make of my background? And why the frick am I thinking about what the parents of a man I’ve met only twice might think of me? I stare down at the mug in my hands.
‘I’m not going to try to save your soul, don’t worry.’ Dan watches me closely, misinterpreting my discomfort.
‘So, is it your parents being nomadic that got you into travelling?’ I glance curiously around at the van’s interior and try to imagine fitting my life into a van and just driving away.
The idea is strangely appealing. I’d have more space than I do now in the dorm room at Chalet Repos.
‘Not really,’ Dan replies. ‘One day I’ll tell you why I’m traveling. Maybe when you tell me what upset you so much today.’
‘I guess we’ll have to remain in ignorance, then,’ I say lightly.
‘I guess we will.’
‘So you’re a ski instructor, then? What do you do in summer?’
‘I drive further south and pick up work. I’m going to try for yacht work this summer.’
‘So you don’t have any long-term plans?’
‘Only to enjoy life and see as much of the world as possible. It’s fun. You should try it.’ Dan leans forward, his face serious.
So it’s now, when he’s talking about fun, that he chooses to be serious.
His world is so alien to mine I’m not sure we’d intersect in a Venn diagram.
‘Thanks for the tea and biscuits. I probably ought to get back to Chalet Repos.’ I stand up at the same time as Dan and am immediately aware of how close he is.
‘Are you okay now?’ He asks, taking my mug.
‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks.’ I fumble with the door handle and embarrassingly have to be helped. His fingers brush mine and I jump.
‘Must be static from the handle,’ I mumble.
‘Must be.’
I hear the smile in his voice as I step down and walk swiftly away. My cheeks are burning as I zip up my ski jacket.
‘Hey, Beth.’
I hear footsteps crunching in the snow behind me as Dan catches up with me.
‘What?’ I whip around to face him.
‘You’ve still got my keys.’
Aargh. I hand them over, sure I must be crimson by now. My cheeks certainly feel like they’re on fire.
‘Thanks, Dan.’
‘Any time. My kettle and biscuits are at your disposal.’
I sense him watching me as I walk away. I don’t know why he’s affecting me so much. I can’t waste time chasing fun. Life is hard and I’ve been on my own for far too long. I need to keep to my plan. I need certainty and permanency. Someone who will stick around and take life seriously.
Commitment.
As for talking to Dan or anyone about the deep stuff, Mum’s bipolar disorder, the memories that keep me awake at night or the fears that torment me during the day if I let them … Well, it’s not going to happen. I told Eva everything once.
Once was enough.
She’d be worried if she knew I’d gone home with Thomas and am now taking risks like getting into a camper van with an almost-stranger.
What Eva doesn’t seem to get is you’re never safe. A stranger I’d never met before raped me in broad daylight in a park. I’d been caught in a thunderstorm and the park had rapidly emptied so there was no one around to help me. Or, at least, there was no one willing to answer my cries for help. And then there was that boyfriend of Mum’s who liked to put the tip of a kitchen knife against my chest at night. I think he got off on seeing the fear in my eyes.
So, two situations where I should have been safe – my home and a park in broad daylight – both turned out to be utterly unsafe and the scenes of my greatest vulnerability.
In a weird way it frees me up. I know I’m not safe anywhere. Ever. At least when you know you’re not safe it can’t take you by surprise when someone turns on you. It’s that initial shock I can’t bear. That and the knowledge that someone really wants to hurt you, is going to take pleasure doing it and you can’t stop them. You can shout and cry all you like but no one is coming to save you.
You’ve been to a few self-defence classes, but when it comes to it you freeze, forgetting everything, even your own name.
You’re alone. Your world tilts and shifts to accommodate this new reality and… well, if you’re lucky, you find a way to deal with it.
I don’t know if there’s a place in my new reality for a sexy ski instructor with laughing eyes who chases fun around the world. Fun feels like an almost totally alien concept to me. It’s an irrelevance and a luxury I can’t afford any more.
Chapter 7
LUCY
‘We’re all invited to dinner at Chalet Amélie.’ Rebecca smiles as she touches up her make-up. ‘Emily‘s cooking and Jake‘s invited some of his friends. You never know, we might meet someone.’
‘I was planning a quiet night in, given we‘re guest-free tonight,’ I say.
‘Oh come on, someone else is cooking for us, it‘ll be nice. Emily‘s a really good cook.’
‘True, I only had plans for cheese on toast and I am starving,’ I admit. I always am after a day on the slopes. All that exercise and fresh air makes me ravenous.
‘So come, then. Oh and Emily said to bring our bikinis so we can use the spa.’ Rebecca puts her lip gloss back in her make-up bag. ‘The thing is, Lucy, I find dinner parties difficult. It would really help if you were there with me.’
‘Um, okay, then.’ I rummage in my bags for a clean top and wonder if I‘ve got time to shower and wash my hair. It‘s rare for Rebecca to admit that she‘s shy. Usually she covers it up with a bravado most people misinterpret as genuine confidence. I suppose I‘d better get ready and keep her company. I wouldn‘t mind using the pool and steam room to relax my muscles after a day skiing. I could put my bikini on underneath my clothes.
It‘s Chalet Amélie, though. When I‘m there I won‘t be able to stop thinking about Seb and what happened at the engagement party. Who am I kidding? I‘ll be thinking about Seb wherever I spend the evening, so what‘s the difference? I sigh and head for the shower. By the time we‘re ready to leave, my hair is at least clean and dry and I don‘t feel too shabby next to the others as we walk to Chalet Amélie. I‘ve put a bit of lip gloss on, just in case.
I‘m trying not to think about what I mean by that and am bombarded by memories of kissing Seb as we approach the chalet. I guess it was inevitable.
‘Hi there.’ Emily greets us at the door with a smile, her strawberry-blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. ‘I‘m glad you made it.’
When Rebecca goes in, Emily puts a hand on my arm to stop me following and leans in closer.
Chalet Girls Page 7
