Chalet Girls

by Lorraine Wilson

  ‘Have you got the clue? Good. Off you go and have fun then Sophie. I’ll take care of things here today.’ Luc smiles and I know it’s no coincidence the girls are here. He’s arranged the whole thing.

  ‘Let’s see the first clue, then,’ Tash says eagerly, holding out her hand for the envelope.

  I already know the answer and, from Tash’s smile when she reads the clue, I guess she does too. Luc obviously decided to give us an easy first clue, given I’ve not even had a cup of tea yet.

  Rebecca and Lucy look blank.

  ‘It’s that surfing-theme place, you know,’ Tash says. ‘The Offshore Café.’

  ‘A surfing café called Offshore, in a country that doesn‘t have a coastline?’ Rebecca sounds dubious. ‘But what about the rest of the clue … the insect?’

  ‘You‘ve never been there?’ I ask. ‘Tash is definitely right. The pink insect is a pink VW Beetle, it‘s inside the café.’

  ‘They do the best salted-caramel pancakes,’ Tash adds. ‘I‘d love to get the recipe – we could try them out as a breakfast alternative for Chalet Repos.’

  ‘It‘s not far, shall we get going?’ I blow a kiss at Luc and wave as we head out.

  Tash and I strike out ahead.

  ‘Are you okay, Soph? You haven‘t seemed yourself lately?’ Tash links arms with me.

  ‘It‘s been a tough time,’ I lower my gaze to the fresh snow beneath our boots, focusing on the satisfying crunch underfoot. ‘It looks like we‘re not going to be allowed to adopt and the whole process has been really stressful. Plus Luc‘s dad is … dying.’

  I pause and squeeze my eyes shut for a second, determined not to cry on what should be a nice day. It‘s the first time I‘ve allowed myself to use the word, to tell the truth out loud.

  Tash squeezes my arm. ‘That‘s really tough, Soph, I‘m so sorry.’

  ‘It‘s just weird, having to accept that your parents aren‘t going to be there forever. It‘s scary.’ I admit. ‘Lucy‘s dad dying of a stroke made me realise how easy it is to take people‘s presence in your life for granted. Life is so much more fragile than we want to admit.’

  I squeeze my eyes tight shut again and manage to keep the tears back.

  ‘And what about your wedding, though?’ Tash frowns. ‘I mean, I share a chalet with Amelia and I swear if she mentions her wedding one more time I‘m going to get creative with the fire tongs.’

  I grin. ‘What on earth is she going to talk about after the wedding?’

  ‘Oh, I‘m sure she‘ll find something. She‘ll probably get pregnant and bore us all endlessly about that instead. Can you imagine what a smug mother she‘ll make?’ Tash glowers. ‘But I seem to have got distracted with violent fantasies featuring Amelia again, that‘s happening a lot lately. My point was going to be that in comparison to her you never talk about your wedding plans. Why is that?’

  I know I‘m not going to be able to deflect Tash, no chance.

  ‘It‘s so difficult pleasing everyone,’ I sigh. ‘I don‘t know how to do it in a way that won‘t upset the people I love.’

  ‘Can‘t you elope or something?’

  ‘Not without really pissing off our relatives, no.’ I exhale and my breath escapes into the cold air in a puff of white mist.

  ‘What do you want, Sophie? Assuming you could choose your own wedding and we assume for a minute that the people who love you would support your decisions?’ Tash turns to me as we reach the café and wait for Rebecca and Lucy to catch up.

  ‘You obviously haven‘t met my mother,’ I reply flatly, shaking my head and then plastering on a smile as the others approach.

  The Offshore Café is exactly the opposite of what you‘d expect to find in a ski resort of a landlocked country. Surfboards adorn the walls and it has the feel of an old-fashioned American diner. It‘s a popular spot for breakfast with the ski instructors. Tash is right, the pancakes are to die for and Luc knows they‘re my favourite.

  We find the clue quickly. It‘s tucked under the windscreen wipers of the pink VW Beetle.

  Once we‘ve sat down at a booth and ordered breakfast I open it and read aloud:

  ‘CLUE 2

  To find the location of clue number two,

  Ask Aladdin or Solomon what to do,

  It would probably suit an Arabian Night,

  Or if you know the right words it might even take flight!’

  ‘Is there a café that has a genie-type lamp as part of the decor?’ Rebecca suggests.

  ‘Not that I know of.’ I sip gratefully at the hot chocolate that‘s appeared in front of me. I love Swiss hot chocolate, the richness of the milk from alpine cows makes it impossible to recreate back in England. I have tried.

  ‘What‘s the Arabian Night connection? And Solomon?’ Lucy frowns.

  ‘Let‘s ask Mr Google, shall we?’ Tash gets out her phone and types.

  ‘Hmm, the top results are mostly about genies or Jin. I think that‘s another name for the same thing, though.’ She scrolls down. ‘But there is something about magic carpets and that would fit the flying-away part of the clue.’

  ‘Les Moulins, you know, the children‘s beginner slope. It has a magic carpet moving walkway to take the kids back up to the top of the slope.’ I smile. I love that Luc has gone to the bother of making up clues and arranging today for me despite everything he‘s dealing with. ‘We‘ll head down there once we‘ve paid.’

  But when we go to pay our bill we‘re told by a smiling waitress that it‘s already been taken care of.

  We head outside again; it‘s turning into a blue-sky, sunny day. One of those days when the mountain tops look crisp and sharp, a vivid white against azure blue. The reflected sunlight off the snow is almost too much to bear.

  I slip my sunglasses on.

  ‘You are so lucky to have someone like Luc.’ Rebecca‘s tone is wistful.

  ‘You‘ll meet someone, Rebecca,’ I reassure her. ‘I went for seasons with no one on the horizon. I thought I‘d be single forever. You never know what‘s going to happen, who’s waiting for you around the corner.’

  ‘Yes, just look at me and Nate,’ Tash beams, a ‚cat got the cream‘ smile.

  ‘And you know I was single for years before I met Seb,’ Lucy says shyly, a rosy-pink blush blossoming on her cheeks.

  Aw, young love is so sweet.

  I‘m not sure pointing out we‘re all attached except for Rebecca is all that reassuring, especially not on Valentine‘s Day. I used to hate being single and hoping for cards and flowers that never arrived. But Rebecca seems more cheerful and I‘m glad that Luc included her today. It‘s another example of his thoughtfulness and kindness.

  I really don‘t deserve him.

  I take a deep breath. I don‘t have the courage to let him go, I couldn‘t bear it. But I can‘t let go of the guilt that it‘s my fault we can‘t have the family he‘s always craved. Will it haunt me forever? Will Luc end up resenting me? I wish I could just let it go, but the idea is like a wriggling tapeworm, burying deep inside me and feeding on my fear.

  ‘Are you seeing Nate later?’ I ask Tash, keen to stop my train of thought. Its destination isn‘t anywhere I want to go, I‘m sure of that.

  ‘Yes, he‘s flying into Geneva this afternoon, he‘s taking me out this evening.’ Tash beams again. ‘I can‘t wait to see him. I‘m so glad he decided to go into business with Scott.’

  ‘I‘m glad it‘s going well.’ I can‘t help smiling back.

  ‘It is.’ Tash‘s eyes shine, clear of the waves of hostility that used to lurk there. ‘I‘m hoping to persuade him to move out here or at least buy a chalet in Verbier and spend part of the year here if he doesn‘t want to leave London.’

  When we get to the beginner slope in town a line of pink-faced small children are waiting to get onto the Magic Carpet to take them up the gentle incline.

  We get in line.

  ‘You haven‘t got any skis, silly, and you‘re too big to use our slope.’ An English boy who looks abo
ut five years old sticks his tongue out at Tash.

  She promptly sticks her own tongue out at him and rolls her eyes. Maybe there‘s still a touch of the old, not so grown-up, Tash alive and kicking after all. I find that reassuring.

  When we get to the head of the queue someone hands me another envelope.

  We stand back, out of the way, and this time I open it up myself and read.

  ‘CLUE 3

  Time for a hike, off you go,

  To the Sanskrit way of saying hello.

  For a Kir Royale and a Mont Blanc view,

  Then a speedy way down is waiting for you.’

  ‘I’m liking the sound of a Kir Royale.’ Tash takes the clue from me. ‘Anyone know any Sanskrit?’

  ‘No, they didn’t exactly teach it at school.’ Rebecca shakes her head.

  ‘Shall we ask Google again?’ Lucy suggests.

  Tash checks her phone signal and types into her browser.

  ‘Here we go.’ She turns her phone screen towards us. ‘Useful phrases in Sanskrit. Hello means Namaste.’

  ‘Le Namaste,’ I exclaim. ‘It’s a cosy chalet café, a little way out of town. I think its terrace overlooks Mont Blanc. It‘s a bit of a walk up, but worth it.’

  ‘Do we need snow shoes?’ Lucy eyes our boots doubtfully.

  ‘No, our boots will be fine, the path up there is kept relatively clear for the snowmobiles,’ I say. ‘I wonder what our speedy way down will be?’

  ‘Maybe a snowmobile,’ Lucy suggests. ‘That would be fun.’

  As we head out of town Rebecca and Lucy fall back, chatting. I love the peace of mountain trails, the fresh air and the heavy silence beneath the towering, snow-laden pines.

  ‘What‘s it like at Chalet Repos now Amelia‘s in charge?’ I ask.

  Tash purses her lips. ‘She‘s a pain in the neck, so full of herself and her sodding wedding. I still don‘t get why Holly put her in charge.’

  ‘I think she did it so you‘d be free to go off and spend a lot of time with Nate whenever he‘s over from England,’ I say gently. ‘Would you really want to be in charge? You wouldn‘t be able to leave the chalet to go off with Nate for a weekend like you do now.’

  ‘I suppose.’ Tash scowls. ‘If only Amelia were less smug about it, though. She‘s always asking me pityingly if Nate‘s popped the question yet.’

  I laugh. ‘If it makes you feel any better she‘s always asking me if I‘m following my wedding planner or doing my detox diet and making me worry about things I didn‘t even know I needed to worry about.’

  Le Namaste is very different to the Offshore Café. It‘s a traditional mountain chalet cantine. The only unusual features are sculptures made from agricultural paraphernalia. Apparently the chef makes them in his spare time.

  The walk is worth it for the stunning view, but still we all sink gratefully onto brightly coloured deckchairs on the terrace and are just as pleased with the view of the tray of Kir Royales brought out to us. On the tray sits the next clue.

  We‘re facing the distinctive crooked mountain top of Mont Blanc, covered with pristine snow. It literally translates as the ‚white mountain‘. The air feels even fresher up here, pure and cold. With the extra height the temperature has dropped and now we‘ve stopped moving we really feel the chill. We pull the super-soft blankets laid out on the chairs on top of us.

  ‘To Luc.’ Lucy raises her glass and we all toast my fiancé.

  ‘If only all men were as lovely as your Luc,’ Rebecca says. ‘Poor Beth has been through a horrible time with a nasty piece of work called Thomas. Lucy and I were talking about it on the way up here. He was all charm at the start, but once he got what he wanted he turned abusive and since then he‘s done his best to humiliate her in front of his friends whenever he sees her out and about.’

  ‘Thomas?’ My heart thumps hard, almost painfully so. ‘Thomas who? Do we know any more about him?’

  Tash catches my eye.

  ‘I‘m not sure, he‘s a semi-pro, I think. Very good looking, apparently.’ Rebecca frowns at me. ‘Why, do you know him?’

  ‘You think he might be your Thomas, Sophie?’ Lucy asks quietly. ‘I did wonder.’

  Not my Thomas. Not mine. Nothing to do with me.

  The words can‘t stop guilt, never that far away, from rising up inside me.

  Should I have warned Beth somehow? But how … how could I have known? How could I have stopped him? He didn‘t break the law, he was just a complete shit.

  ‘It sounds like him.’ I stare down at my glass of blackcurrant bubbles. ‘I might have a word with Beth.’

  A chill trickles down my spine, numbing me like an anaesthetic. Oh God, what if he never got treatment and infected Beth too? What if she can never have children? I could never forgive myself if she‘s infertile and I could‘ve prevented it.

  ‘How could you have known, Soph?’ Tash‘s voice cuts through the panic, her tone kind, her perception spot on. ‘How could you reasonably have stopped this from happening?’

  I gulp down the rest of my drink and welcome the warmth spreading through my chest.

  ‘I‘m so sorry, Sophie, I didn‘t mean to ruin your day.’ Rebecca looks stricken. ‘I didn‘t know.’

  ‘It‘s fine, don‘t worry.’ I force a smile to my lips. ‘Let‘s open the next clue.’

  Tash opens it for me and reads:

  ‘CLUE 4

  It‘s time to go AWAY, relax and let go,

  Get into warm waters and away from the snow.

  Rewind and unwind, back to the start,

  Enjoy the gifts, they come from my heart.’

  ‘Sounds like a Jacuzzi or thermal springs,’ Lucy suggests.

  ‘Can I see it?’ I ask and take it from Tash. ‘Oh, AWAY is all in capital letters, it’s the W’s spa, AWAY is its name. Also the ‘going back to the start’ part makes sense. We had our first ever date at the W hotel. Oh look, there’s something else at the bottom. It reminds us to ‘ask at the bar for our quick way down.’

  ‘I’ll go.’ Tash springs up.

  When she gets back she’s grinning. ‘We’re tobogganing down, there are two waiting for us. Fancy a race?’

  It turns out tobogganing is a great antidote for stress. We’re giggling like children as we zip back down to town, rushing past snow-laden fir trees, runners sliding over crisp compacted snow. Tash and Rebecca hit a ridge and come off their sledge into a snow drift, laughing hysterically.

  Lucy guides our sledge expertly. She has more of an affinity with the snow, seeming to know exactly how to take the bends and where the deep drifts lie.

  Unsurprisingly we beat the other two to the bottom. We prop the sledges up against the log store at the end of the track, where we were instructed to leave them.

  ‘Should we change before we go to the spa?’ Rebecca asks, dusting snow from her jeans.

  ‘I think we’re okay to turn up in jeans and ski jackets. It’s not like we’re going for dinner,’ I reassure her.

  At the spa reception we’re handed another envelope. I open it to find a longer poem, in French this time, and some pieces of folded printer paper.

  I read the poem to myself, the vocabulary is simple. I can usually translate written French if it’s not too complicated, especially with the help of the translator app Luc put on my phone.

  Sophie. Mon amour,

  Mon chouchou et mon cœur.

  Mon rayon de soleil,

  Et ma moitié.

  Sophie. Ma chérie,

  L‘amour de ma vie.

  Mon destin et mon avenir,

  Mon souffle et mon désir.

  Sophie. Mon préféré,

  Mon ciel étoilé.

  Tu as mon cœur,

  Je n‘aime que toi. Toujours.

  I don’t need the app for this one. I blink back sudden hot tears, the words swim in front of my eyes.

  ‘What else is in the envelope, Sophie, apart from the poem?’ Tash asks.

  I look at the other pieces of paper. One is
an email booking confirmation for us all to have massages at the spa. The other is a booking confirmation for return flights to Manchester for me and Luc for two days next week.

  Wordlessly I hand the paperwork over to Tash. She doesn’t seem too surprised.

  ‘You knew?’ I raise my eyebrows.

  She shrugs. ‘When Luc mentioned the surprise to us, Holly and I thought the idea of going home to talk weddings with your mother might leave you in need of a relaxing massage.’

  ‘You’re not wrong there.’ I laugh, still feeling a little stunned.

  ‘I didn’t know he’d booked massages for all of us too, though,’ Tash says. ‘That’s really generous of him.’

  ‘What does the poem mean. Is it another clue?’ Rebecca asks, peeking over my shoulder to see the poem.

  ‘Okay if I translate?’ Tash asks.

  ‘Sure.’ I hand the poem to Tash, reasoning Luc wouldn’t have made it part of the treasure hunt if he’d wanted to keep it private.

  Tash recites:

  ‘Sophie my love,

  My sweetie and my heart.

  My ray of sunshine,

  And my better half.

  Sophie, my darling,

  The love of my life.

  My destiny and my future,

  My breath and my desire.

  Sophie. My preferred one,

  My starry sky.

  You have my heart,

  I love no one but you.

  Always.’

  ‘Aw, that’s so sweet.’ Rebecca smiles.

  ‘The only word that’s hard to translate is ‘chouchou’. Mon chou literally means my cabbage or possibly my sweet pastry. I opted for the second option.’ Tash grins. ‘You’re lucky he didn’t call you ma petite puce. I looked it up after one guy called me that and it means my little flea. I was ready to clout him one, but apparently it’s a term of endearment.’

  Rebecca’s eyes are starry. ‘He really loves you, Sophie. Like really loves you. To go to all this effort. You are so lucky.’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ I reply quietly.

  ‘Are you looking forward to going home?’ Rebecca asks.

  I snort with laughter. ‘Let’s just say it’s going to be interesting.’

  Lucy grimaces sympathetically. ‘I have a challenging mother too. I sympathise.’

  A challenge is one way to describe taking my mother on. If she’s in full-on blinkered mode I’ll have to stage a protest and lie down in front of the steamroller to bring her wedding plans to a halt.