Chalet Girls

by Lorraine Wilson

  ‘Hmm.’ I shrug noncommittally. ‘What if the clicking turns out to be a dislocated bone? I keep hearing the rescue helicopters overhead, off to fetch the injured. It‘s a bit off-putting.’

  ‘You know what you need?’ Dan grins.

  ‘I‘m sure you‘re going to tell me.’ I can‘t help smiling back. He has such a nice smile, his whole face lights up and his eyes dance like they know a delicious secret.

  Out of the corner of my eye I catch Lucy watching me speculatively. So what? I can appreciate a man‘s smile while acknowledging he‘s not right for me. A little flirting and teasing never hurt anyone and I‘m not about to shut out a man who can make me smile this much.

  ‘I think you need to have fun this afternoon.’ His laughing eyes hold me, enticing, promising to share a delicious secret. ‘I‘ve had a cancelled lesson. Don‘t worry, I‘m not talking about giving you another ski lesson. Instead I‘m going to get you to really enjoy the snow and relax with it. I dare you. You‘ll find it‘s fun if you can get over your fear.’

  How does he know it’s the fear that’s holding me back? And why does it feel like he knows me when we‘ve only met twice before? I‘m not sure spending time with an observant man is such a good idea. He‘s already convinced I‘m hiding a secret. I don‘t want him digging. Some things are best left buried.

  But really, for one afternoon, what harm can it do?

  ‘Okay, I accept.’ The rebellious part of me wins.

  I ignore Lucy‘s smirk.

  ‘Just make sure she‘s back at Chalet Repos in one piece later because we‘re on dinner duty tonight.’ She drains her glass and stands up from her deckchair. ‘See you later, Beth. Have fun.’

  ‘So, what did you have in mind?’ I try to ignore Dan‘s long outstretched legs, angled territorially towards me. It is nice to meet a man who‘s tall enough so I could wear heels if I wanted.

  ‘You‘ll see.’ He smiles.

  ‘Do you know how annoying that patronising tone is?’ I nudge one of his boots with the tip of my ski boot.

  ‘Yes, I‘ve a fair idea. Now come on, drink up, we need to pick something up first.’

  ‘Chocolate digestives?’ I reluctantly get up out of the comfy deckchair, unsure that Dan’s idea of fun is going to be better than sunbathing.

  ‘No, but you can have some chocolate biscuits afterwards, if you earn them.’ He grins. ‘If you’re a very good girl.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘Why does it sound like it’s going to be hard work?’

  ‘It won’t be,’ he promises.

  When we get to his camper van he unlocks the storage locker under the bed where he keeps his snowboard and boots and pulls out a sledge.

  ‘You must’ve done this as a child?’ Dan leads me to an off-piste stretch, where it’ll be safe to sledge down without taking several skiers out at the same time.

  A vague memory flashes into my mind of Mum pulling me along a snowy pavement, me sitting on a plastic sledge. That would’ve been one of her good days. When she was up, in one of her manic phases, we’d have days out and ice cream for dinner. It was fun, but I could never quite trust it, as there was always a part of me waiting for the inevitable slide back down into depression again.

  When she died of a heart attack a year ago it wasn’t a shock. She always drank a lot on top of her medication. They say that didn’t cause her death but I’m not convinced. For years it felt like all Mum wanted was to check out and one day her body finally agreed with her.

  She left me with a pile of debts and final-demand letters and a toxic mixture of grief and a guilty relief that I no longer had to ride the rollercoaster.

  Thinking about happy times hurts even more than bad memories, maybe because there are so few of them and now there’ll never be any more.

  Is Dan as laid back and even-tempered as he seems or is he hiding a rollercoaster temperament?

  ‘Earth to Beth.’ Dan stops and stares at me. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Um, yes. I‘m fine.’

  ‘You don‘t need to lie to me, you know.’ Dan‘s voice is gentle and I know if I had the courage to meet his gaze I‘d find kindness there.

  ‘There‘s no need to lie? That‘s got to be the stupidest thing I‘ve ever heard.’ Irritation snaps me out of the past. I try to smile, but can‘t quite manage it. Why am I being such a bitch to him – again?

  ‘Is that so? You must have spent your life surrounded by inordinately clever people,’ Dan replies calmly. He doesn‘t seem offended at all.

  ‘Ha.’ I don‘t bother dignifying that with a proper reply.

  Then it hits me. I‘m testing him, I‘m prodding Dan with a stick to see if he‘ll turn on me.

  ‘Let‘s try again. Are you okay, Beth?’

  ‘Not really,’ I say, subdued, the fight abruptly seeping out of me.

  ‘Want to talk about it?’

  ‘Definitely not.’ My lips tighten.

  ‘Alright then.’

  ‘Shall we get on with having fun?’ My question is only slightly acerbic. If Dan wants honesty he can have it in spades. Full disclosure, now that‘s an entirely different matter.

  I find I have no problem with speed or hurtling down a snowy slope, so long as someone else more competent is in control. Dan sits behind me, legs either side of mine and his arms around me, so he can take control of the steering.

  It‘s a fact that doesn‘t bear examination. Surely I should be more comfortable being in control of the sledge myself? Maybe it‘s the deep, three a.m. fear lurking inside me that I can‘t trust myself. What if Mum did pass on her bipolar genes to me?

  On one run I swear Dan ploughs us into a snowdrift on purpose. We tumble into the drift in a tangle of limbs and, despite myself, I‘m laughing. Dan‘s face is mere centimetres from mine, twinkly eyes dancing and laughing mouth so close, so kissable.

  I blink and roll away. He‘s too nice for me. The thought flickers briefly in my mind. Eva would say it‘s more evidence that I don‘t respect myself.

  After the Thomas incident I might have to agree with her.

  ‘What next?’ I determinedly switch off my inner-Eva. ‘I‘m tired of climbing back up that hill. You‘re much fitter than me.’

  ‘Thanks, so you think I‘m fit?’ He grins.

  ‘I mean, you have better stamina than me.’ Frick, that sounds even worse.

  ‘Women often comment on my stamina.’

  ‘Really? So why aren‘t you spending time with your stamina-loving women instead of me. Why bother with me?’

  ‘I like you, Beth, it‘s as simple as that.’ He gets to his feet. ‘You asked what next. I‘m thinking we should have a snow-creature competition.’

  He likes me? I feel a twinge of regret that this thing between us will never go anywhere or be serious. I feel strangely comfortable with Dan, but this isn‘t real life.

  I learnt pretty young that ice cream for dinner can‘t be trusted.

  Does Dan even do real life or commitment or the other basic requirements I need? After Thomas I need to be much more focused. Dan can be a good friend but I need to remember that one day soon he‘ll drive his campervan off into the sunset and leave me behind.

  ‘Snow creatures?’ I brush some powdery snow off my cheek.

  ‘Yes, everyone does snowmen, it‘s so predictable. How about a snow rabbit or a snow marmot?’

  ‘What‘s a marmot?’

  ‘You‘ve never seen a marmot? They‘re super-cute furry creatures – these mountains are teeming with them in summer.’

  ‘So, where do they go in winter? Are you sure you‘re not making them up?’

  ‘No, they really exist. I‘ll show you a photo on my phone later. I think they hibernate or something. Anyway, what are you going to do?’

  ‘Snow cat.’ I begin scooping handfuls of snow to build the body, hampered by my thick ski gloves. Still, at least they‘re waterproof and I‘m not remotely cold. ‘Did you ever get to do this as a kid? Were you always in hot countries with your parents?’
>
  ‘Pretty much. I enjoyed the travel but I did miss out on snow. I‘m all for making up for missed time. Who gets to arbitrarily put age limits on certain activities anyway?’

  ‘True,’ I agree. ‘I miss ice cream and jelly. I haven‘t eaten jelly in years.’

  ‘Jelly is underrated as a foodstuff.’ Dan looks solemn as he sculpts a body out of snow.

  ‘Also, I don‘t get all this putting adult covers onto children‘s books,’ I say. ‘A good story is a good story, so why should anyone feel ashamed to be reading it?’

  ‘That‘s exactly what I think. I love A.A. Milne. Winnie the Pooh is my hero.’ He places a hand on his heart.

  ‘I always preferred Piglet because he was brave in spite of his fears,’ I say, then I worry I‘ve revealed too much of myself. It‘s been a long time since I read the books. Mum threw all my childhood books out one day in a manic de-cluttering frenzy.

  ‘It‘s much friendlier with two.’ Dan says quietly, then turns to face me, snow sculpture temporarily forgotten.

  ‘I love that Winnie the Pooh quote.’ I wish Dan wasn‘t quite so close, that his eyes weren‘t quite so dancy and I didn‘t feel the urge to kiss him.

  I think for a second he‘s going to kiss me, but he pulls back and carries on with his snow creature, whatever it is.

  ‘Okay, I‘ve finished.’ I rock back on my heels. I‘m quite pleased with my snow cat, although the tail was tricky and looks a bit wonky.

  ‘What‘s yours meant to be?’ I frown.

  ‘It‘s a marmot.’

  I pull a face.

  ‘What? You don‘t even know what a marmot looks like, so how do you know this isn‘t an extremely talented example?’

  ‘Is it meant to only have three legs?’ I ask.

  ‘What, it has got four legs. Oh you‘re kidding me. Funny girl.’ He grins. ‘You do have a sense of humour after all. Right, you‘re going to pay for disparaging my masterpiece.’

  He scoops up a handful of snow and advances, grabbing the back of my jacket and stuffing it down my neck.

  ‘You sod,’ I shriek.

  I grab some snow and run after him, stuffing it down the front of his t-shirt. He hooks a leg around my ankles and pulls me off my feet, down onto him.

  There‘s a moment of stillness when we stare at each other and wait, seeing if the other is going to pull away. Then the moment for extraction is over and my lips are on his. I can‘t honestly say if I‘m kissing Dan or he‘s kissing me. We‘re just kissing and I don‘t want it to stop.

  His hands snake around my back and pull me in closer, deepening the kiss. Surprisingly I don‘t feel remotely freaked out, but instead I’m relaxed and turned on. He‘s a good kisser, he tastes of mint and smells nice, all citrusy and fresh.

  It‘s undeniably good, feeling Dan‘s solid body beneath mine. Not to mention his tongue in my mouth and this burgeoning feeling of connection. It‘s been a long time since I felt anything like this. It triggers a craving deep inside me, drawing me to him, making me want more. My thirst is both emotional and sexual. I‘m parched for affection.

  I feel safe enough to close my eyes, Dan‘s presence somehow makes it feel okay. Anyway, I‘m more concerned with enjoying this kiss and being held. Some of the tension I hadn‘t realised I was carrying is seeping out of my tight muscles and almost permanently clenched jaw. No one has touched me for a very long time. This kiss is an oasis after a long, arduous trek in hostile territory.

  Mmm … I could get lost in this kiss. The thought draws me up short. That can‘t happen. Dan‘s a distraction. A very nice distraction but … he‘s leaving at the end of the season. I shouldn‘t waste the opportunity I‘ve got in Verbier. I can hang out with Dan and have fun but it can‘t be more than that. Not if I‘m looking for security.

  I was alone for far too long. I can‘t let myself get close to a self-confessed drifter who‘s going to leave me to go on to the next best thing. Life is serious and so I need to be too. I pull back.

  ‘I need to make tracks,’ I mutter, my cheeks flushed hot, and quickly get to my feet. ‘I need to have a bath before I start dinner prep with Lucy.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Thanks for … this afternoon.’ I shake the snow out of my jacket.

  ‘Did you have fun?’ Dan props himself up on his elbows.

  I feel a tug, deep inside me. Am I doing the right thing?

  ‘Yes,’ I finally admit. ‘I had fun. Thanks.’

  ‘It’s good to see you smiling. You have a lovely smile.’

  I turn away, flustered.

  Dan‘s lack of resistance to my leaving bothers me. Doesn‘t he want me to stay? I need to bear in mind he doesn‘t do subtext. If I say something he takes me at my word. Also I‘ve got to remember this might be fun but he‘s not going to take care of me, provide for me, keep the bailiffs from the door and nightmares from my sleep.

  There I‘ve said it.

  From the first time I had to look after Mum, run the flat and take care of myself I dreamt of a rich man swooping in to take care of us and love Mum. I‘d hoped maybe he‘d be able to keep her happy because I was certainly failing to.

  When Mum died I wanted it for myself. Wanted the luxury of not handing over my bank card afraid it‘s going to be refused. Wanted to just once go into a supermarket and be able to buy whatever I fancied. It‘s complicated. It‘s not so much about wanting material things as about craving the absence of the fear, of stomach-clenching, gut-gnawing anxiety.

  More than that, I want a man who cares what happens to me and wants to take care of me. I don‘t want to do life on my own any more. I want someone to hold me at night and look out for me.

  Eva thinks I‘m yearning for the father who abandoned me and left me to deal with Mum‘s illness alone. But why would I want that waste of space? He‘s clearly incapable of looking after anyone.

  She also thinks my approach is anti-feminist and dysfunctional. But then she also says I‘m remarkable and strong. Can I be both?

  I know I‘m not strong. I don‘t think I‘ve known a genuinely fear-free moment since the rape. Since before that, really, if I‘m going to be truly honest. Even while I was mucking about with Dan it was there in the background, pulsing through me. Never safe … Never safe …

  I want someone who at least makes me feel safe. Though deep down I‘m afraid real safety is out of my reach. Out of anyone‘s reach, not just mine. Life is fragile and uncontrollable. Nevertheless, I‘d like a relationship that at least helps me forget it.

  From: debbie.johnson@gmail.com

  To: beth.chapman@yahoo.com

  Subject: skiing lessons

  Hi there. We need to have a serious word! Don’t you know it’s positively your duty to hook up with a sexy ski instructor? Accepting free lessons from a fellow chalet girl is such a waste! You said you’re starting to get good tips from the Chalet Repos guests, so why don’t you splash out for one-on-one tuition with the sexiest male instructor you can find? Maybe it could progress to one-on-one tuition of another kind? ;-)

  Oh, you’ll never guess, Mark said the funniest thing the other day. We were talking about you and he said he thought you’d had a crush on him while you were living with us, that it might be one of the reasons you decided to go to Switzerland. I told him he was full of himself and you were way out of his league. Anyway, I had to pass it on because I knew it would make you laugh. You and Mark, imagine!

  I’ve not been on any internet dates since I last emailed so it’s your positive duty to have hot sex with a ski instructor and email me all the details.

  Email soon.

  Love, Debbie

  Chapter 10

  From: sandratrent@gmail.com

  To: sophietrent@hotmail.com

  Re: The Lodge Hotel

  Hello, Sophie darling. Now, you mustn’t be cross, but Rita’s daughter needed a final answer regarding the May slot at The Lodge, so I made an executive decision and asked them to reserve it. We haven’t paid the deposit yet – your Dad
won’t let me until we have the go-ahead from you and Luc.

  I know Christmas and New Year are your busiest times of year, but if you were able to come home just for a few days it would be lovely to sit down with you and start planning things properly. I’ve been saving up lots of ideas to show you. Your dad says I could use our printer to scan things in and then email them to you, but you know what I’m like with technology. It would be so much more fun doing it face to face.

  So, what do you think? I’m sure Luc could spare you for just a couple of days.

  Love from Mum.

  SOPHIE

  ‘Oh fuckitty fuck.’ I chew my lower lip.

  Max lifts his head from my knee and quirks a furry ear, doggy concern shining in his dark, soulful eyes.

  ‘Sorry Max, it‘s okay. My phone made me cross, not you. You‘re not in trouble, I promise.’

  It takes a few behind the ear scratches to reassure him. Luc rescued Max a few years ago and though he‘s much more confident than he used to be, he still can‘t shake the fear he‘s in trouble whenever he picks up on human anger.

  What is Mum thinking? I told her in no uncertain terms not to reserve The Lodge booking. Does she have a kind of textual blindness? If so, it‘s selective. Just as with everything else in life, she ignores anything she doesn‘t want to hear and just steamrollers ahead.

  At least Dad stopped her putting a deposit down. I hate to think what Mum would be like without him to restrain her. She‘d probably have the wedding planned, my dress bought and flights booked back to the UK for me and Luc.

  I have to put a stop to this now.

  From: sophietrent@hotmail.com

  To: sandratrent@gmail.com

  Cc: derektrent@gmail.com

  Re: The Lodge Hotel

  Hi Mum (and Dad!). I really appreciate you wanting to help plan the wedding but you’re going to have to cancel the booking for The Lodge Hotel.

  It’s far too soon to make concrete plans and with Luc’s dad ill things are a bit up in the air.