A Season in the Snow

by Isla Gordon

  ‘Fired?’

  ‘No, not as bad, when it isn’t your fault.’

  ‘Redundancy?’

  ‘Redundancy situation, thank you, and I couldn’t cope with the transition. Have you been taking care of yourself?’

  Alice thought of the junk food and the lack of daylight and the personal hygiene failings before coming to Switzerland. She laughed. ‘No.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Vanessa frowned at her, but didn’t push it any further for now. ‘Well, I hope being here for the winter will help, even if it can’t heal, okay?’

  Alice nodded, keen to change the topic for now. ‘Tell me about your new job.’

  ‘Oh, it’s great,’ Vanessa enthused, stretching out her legs and wriggling her toes. Beside the sofa, where he lay near his new friend Vanessa, Bear looked up to check if he should come over and chew her feet. He decided against it and lay down again with a contented sigh. ‘I was worried I wouldn’t get such a good tour guide job again, and although this one means I’m away from home almost all the time, it’s a really fun tour, with the added bonus of having a wonderful old friend waiting for me on my weekends off.’

  ‘How have your guests been so far?’

  ‘Really lovely. You can’t imagine a happier group of people than those who have come on holiday to celebrate chocolate and cheese.’

  ‘That is the dream combo. Do you remember our tour guide for the Bolivian salt flats?’ Alice surprised herself by bringing up this memory.

  ‘Of course.’ Vanessa chuckled. ‘He was always telling Jill she was “sweet like chocolate” and she gave him an educational about how chocolate wasn’t naturally sweet, and neither was she, and if he didn’t stop objectifying her she would give him a taste of just how bitter she could be.’

  ‘All while holding up a piece of paper with his head office phone number on.’

  ‘She was so great,’ Vanessa laughed.

  ‘She was.’ They sat in silence for a moment while Alice drank her coffee and thought about the good times with Jill and Vanessa in South America, and Vanessa seemed to be doing the same.

  ‘So you’ve met my winter neighbours,’ Vanessa commented.

  ‘I have; they’ve been very welcoming. They’ve been looking forward to seeing you, though, I think they were all a little disappointed to find me behind the door.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Vanessa replied, and drained the last of her drink. ‘What do you think of Marco? He’s nice, right?’

  ‘He’s really nice. He’s the first one I met, actually, because he came over to see you. Did you know he and Noah used to have Bernese Mountain Dogs growing up?’

  ‘Oh yeah, I think I knew that.’

  ‘They’ve all been so kind, the brothers, David, and Lola’s really cool.’

  Vanessa nodded. ‘She’s so cool, I really like her.’

  ‘They’ve had me over for dinner, and they took me to the hot springs earlier in the week.’

  ‘Ahh, you went to Lola’s friend’s hotel? I’m so glad. Did you like it?’

  ‘I loved it, it was . . . ’ she thought about Lola’s words, back when they were nose-deep in the warm water. ‘It was just what I needed. I think they’d like to hang out with you tonight, if you want to?’

  Vanessa shook her head. ‘I’ll go over for a coffee later, or maybe we can all have brunch together. I see those guys every six months. Tonight I want to catch up with you, over wine, and talk about the last ten years. Everything we haven’t fitted into emails.’

  That was nice. Alice propped her feet under her, mirroring Vanessa. ‘Thank you again for letting me stay in your house.’

  ‘Thank you. You’re doing me a favour, like I said before. I hope you’re making yourself at home?’

  ‘I am, sort of. I’m getting there. I learned how to chop wood.’

  ‘Why?’ Vanessa laughed.

  ‘For the wood burner.’

  ‘Did you use all the wood under the awning already?’

  Alice blinked. ‘What wood under what awning?’

  ‘There’s like, two months’ worth of logs in a storage box just outside the house.’

  ‘Oh. Well, there’s still two months’ worth because I hacked up one of the sections of tree trunk in your shed. I hope that was okay?’

  Vanessa looked puzzled. ‘Sure, I didn’t even know it was in there. How did you break it up?’

  ‘With your axe.’

  ‘I have an axe?’

  They were going around in circles, and Alice asked, ‘How do you normally chop up your logs?’

  ‘I go to the Coop.’

  ‘You go to the Coop,’ Alice repeated. ‘Where I’m now guessing they sell bags of logs.’

  ‘Big bags. They deliver too.’

  ‘Of course they do.’ Alice couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You know, Jill always used to say I was one for finding solutions to problems that didn’t exist.’

  ‘But you know, knowing how to swing an axe is a good skill. Maybe you could teach me sometime.’

  ‘I wouldn’t add it to my CV just yet. Hey, I was just speaking to Marco about his mountain rescue team. Do you have an avalanche kit?’

  ‘I have some stuff somewhere.’ Vanessa waved her arm in the general direction of some storage. ‘If it’s anywhere it’ll be in one of the cupboards by the door. That’s where I keep any emergency stuff, if you need it. Torches, first aid, bring the axe in if you want.’

  ‘Ha ha. It must be pretty amazing to work on a mountain rescue helicopter, though. Don’t you think?’

  ‘Like Marco does?’

  ‘Imagine spending your days flying above the world and helping save people’s lives.’

  Vanessa shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I think there’s a lot more to it than that. It’s probably quite dangerous, and I know Marco can be called out on emergency even if he’s not on shift. But you’re right, it’s pretty nice what he does, huh?’ she continued, breaking Alice from her thoughts.

  ‘He’s really nice.’

  ‘Another coffee?’ Vanessa got up and Alice watched her walk back to the kitchen, running her hand fondly along the cedar-wood wall as she went. Bear followed, but kept looking back at Alice to check she hadn’t gone anywhere.

  ‘Have you and Marco got . . . history?’ Alice asked.

  ‘History?’ Vanessa teased.

  ‘Like, you know, spare-room-in-South-America “history”?’ Alice was just making casual chit-chat.

  ‘No,’ Vanessa said. ‘I just think he’s a really nice guy. He has a good heart and a kind soul. I think he could make someone really happy one day. Or maybe help a someone sad get back to being a happy person again.’

  ‘He makes Bear happy,’ said Alice, brushing off Vanessa’s loaded answer. ‘As do you, clearly.’

  ‘Well, he is making me very happy too.’ Vanessa stroked his head, which he tilted back in bliss. Then she looked back at Alice. ‘You know you can have any of them over here while I’m gone, don’t you? I mean it when I say I want you to feel at home. Invite them over as a group, they’ve all hung out here so many times in the past, or individually . . . ’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ said Alice, getting up and taking her coffee from Vanessa. ‘Now, before we do anything else, take me on a belated house tour so I know if there are any other whole cupboards full of logs that don’t need chopping.’

  As Vanessa led her and Bear from room to room, mostly pointing out things Alice had already discovered, she found her thoughts drifting to Jill again, as they so often did. And if she relaxed, and gave into the thoughts, she could almost picture her here, with the two of them, as if it were those heady backpacking days once again. It was nice.

  Chapter 27

  ‘I’ve never been on a ski lift before,’ Alice confided to Lola, as they stood outside the Mürren Ski School office, at the bottom of the baby slope.

  It was a week since Vanessa’s visit, which had been short but oh-so-sweet, and Alice had been thinking a lot about her surroundings. The m
ore she stood at her windows looking out the more she itched to be living in it, like there were shadow puppets of a past Alice that wanted to break through the screen.

  The village was bubbling with holidaymakers now, decked out in brightly coloured snowsuits or geometric salopettes and ski jackets, dragging skis taller than them or rental snowboards criss-crossed on the bottom with the signs of fun had by previous visitors. But still it felt calm, with a peaceful, chilled vibe. Alice adjusted her goggles, glad to have taken Lola’s advice and hired polarised ones, as the bright sun bounced off the snow.

  ‘Well, I’m not surprised you’ve not been on a ski lift, not having been on a snowboard or set of skis before, either,’ replied Lola. ‘But we’re not going high to begin with. In fact we don’t even hit the lift unless we go up another level, so don’t panic. We’re going up that baby slope for now.’

  A toddler whooshed down the incline in front of her, fat little legs and arms making a tiny stick figure in the padded onesie she wore. She drifted to a stop and fell face first into the snow.

  Lola laughed at Alice’s panicked face. ‘She’s fine.’ As predicted, the little girl pushed herself up, giggling her head off. ‘That’ll be you in a minute.’

  ‘The whooshing or the falling on my face?’

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Let’s go then.’ Alice picked up her board and started up the slope, her boots feeling heavy and alien on her feet, but making a satisfying stomping sound in the snow.

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ said Lola, ‘Except we’re not going anywhere yet.’

  ‘Oh.’ Alice stopped.

  ‘First of all we’re gonna strap our leading foot into our snowboards. Your front foot, Alice.’

  Alice bent over and fiddled with the ridged straps. It took a few goes before she managed to pull them tight instead of just unclipping them over and over again, but finally her ‘leading’ foot was locked in.

  ‘Great,’ said Lola. ‘Now follow me; we’re just going to walk a tiny bit up this slope and then practise putting our other foot up on the board and gliding down. Real slow.’

  Alice stepped forward and smacked the board into the back of her calf. She took another step and landed the board flat, and it started to take off down the almost flat slope, causing her to hop rapidly in a circle until she fell to the ground.

  ‘It’s okay, this is the hardest bit,’ Lola lied. ‘Is your leg hurting at all, though? Shout if you want to stop.’

  ‘No, it’s okay, my sore leg is the other one, the one safely strapped in.’ Alice struggled back to her feet and managed to, very slowly, shuffle her way towards Lola. Jesus, this was tough on the calf muscles.

  They spent the next ten minutes learning how to take your loose foot up onto the board and let gravity bring you a couple of metres towards the ground again. Lola told Alice to keep her arms straight and let the curve of the slope take her. Take her it did. She fell each time.

  ‘It’s time to go to the top,’ Lola said.

  ‘To the top of the mountain?’

  ‘The top of the baby slope. We’re going to use the rope tow.’ Lola made her way towards a slow-moving rope that ran up the centre of the beginners’ zone and beckoned to Alice to follow, which she did, clumsily. ‘So just grab hold of the rope and swing your foot up on to the board. I’ll meet you at the top.’

  It was easier said than done, and Alice wobbled and stumbled and clung her way until she was level with Lola, at which point she wobbled and stumbled her way towards her, the awkward snowboard still dangling from one foot. By the time she’d reached Lola and sat down, her hair was frizzing out under her helmet, her hands were sweating inside her gloves and her body was tired.

  She tried telling herself it was the bulk of her clothing, the stiff angle of her boots that didn’t allow her ankles to move, the drag of the edge of the snowboard in the snow, but actually it was highly likely worsened by her lack of physical activity over the past few months.

  Lola, on the other hand, had glided up as if she were on a travellator to first class.

  But that was okay. Alice was taking a step forward for getting her fitness back. That was the best she could do.

  ‘Sit,’ said Lola, and Alice obeyed gladly, the snow cold but dry through her thick salopettes. ‘Now, here’s where ski school really starts. Lesson one. Look around and feel gratitude for your surroundings.’

  It was such an unexpectedly to-the-point command that Alice found herself doing so before even thinking it through. Her eyes swept over the jagged outlines of the mountains before her, the streaks of white snow weaving through grey rock and dark green trees, the bright open sky, the bustle of the village, the sloped roofs of Mürren. She found her home for the season among the rooftops and smiled, wondering what Bear was up to with Noah. She felt Lola’s eyes watching her. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘It is, but I want you to look beyond the look, and I want you to feel it. Don’t look at me, it doesn’t matter what I’m doing.’

  ‘I don’t think I understand.’

  ‘I just think you deserve to have a moment here, on top of the world, with nature and fresh air and no mad puppy to look out for and feel grateful for being alive.’

  Alice was about to protest, but before she could Lola continued, her voice softer.

  ‘I know it sounds callous, honouring the dead doesn’t mean you should stop living. Be grateful to be here, right now, because your friend can’t be. See the world for her. Have experiences for her. Build a future because she won’t get one and I bet she’d be pissed at you if she thought you were in any way throwing away yours.’

  Alice inhaled. She wasn’t expecting this today, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about Lola bringing it up like she knew anything about what she was going through.

  They sat in silence for several minutes, Lola’s words sinking in through Alice’s toughened skin, until Lola said: ‘I know none of this is my place to say, but I kinda know what I’m talking about. I lost both my mum and my dad to cancer in the same year, and yeah, they’d lived much longer lives than your poor mate, but they were still full of health and happiness before it happened. The difference was they had a bit of time before they passed to tell me what they wanted me to do, whereas I think you’ve been dealing with this blind.’

  Alice nodded. She had refused help, outside her family and friends, and what a pressure to put on them; they weren’t grief counsellors.

  ‘Everyone’s different, and I was never lucky enough to know your friend, but my parents told me I had to bloody well grab everything I wanted from life, and be present in everything I do. And my mum told me that doing that didn’t mean I was forgetting her, it just meant she would go in peace knowing I was going to live the life she always wanted for me.’ Now it was Lola’s turn to take a deep breath of the frosty air and she briefly closed her eyes, her face to the sun and a small smile on her lips. When she opened her eyes again she said, ‘And my mum was a professor who had the smarts, so don’t go telling me she didn’t know what she was talking about. Now, no more crying until you fall over, okay?’

  Alice laughed, wiping off her misted goggles. ‘Deal.’

  ‘Are you ready for Lesson Two?’

  ‘Does Lesson Two take place on an emotional rollercoaster, too?’

  ‘No, lesson two is clipping ourselves into our boards.’

  ‘Oh okay, actual snowboarding.’

  ‘Of course. We’re not out here to talk about your dead friend and my dead parents all day.’ Lola smiled and squeezed Alice’s shoulder, and through the lenses, Alice held her gaze for a moment in a thank you. Another optical fibre lit up and connected.

  Lola spent a while demonstrating how Alice should pull the hard plastic straps as tight as they could go, and then how to get out of them again.

  ‘Are you ready?’ she asked.

  ‘Are you cold?’ Alice stalled, looking at Lola who was considerably less bundled than she was, wearing just salopettes and a long-sleeved base layer, which w
as pushed up to her elbows.

  ‘Are you procrastinating?’ Lola stood on her own board and curved through the snow with a gentle whoosh sound, similar to a pencil on paper, to stand in front of Alice, and she held out her hands.

  Alice’s soundtrack consisted of heavy thuds of landing in the snow, and now was no different. Even standing took three goes. Finally she reached up and clasped her gloved hands into Lola’s and allowed herself to be pulled to standing. She wobbled. ‘Woah, it feels weird to be nailed to a board.’ She instinctively leant her bum back, feeling like if she let her weight come forward they would both tumble back down to the ski school office.

  ‘It sure does. But I’m going to be holding on to you all the way down, okay?’

  ‘All the way down? You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes, Alice, I promise.’ Lola held her gaze. ‘Just keep holding my hands and move with me.’

  ‘You won’t let go?’

  ‘You’re safe.’

  ‘Okay, let’s move.’

  ‘We are moving.’ Lola smiled and Alice broke eye contact with a gasp, to notice for the first time the vista behind Lola’s head drifting to the right.

  Alice felt a bubble of happiness pop out in the form of a laugh. ‘How are we doing this, I’m not moving?’

  ‘I’m moving us just by leaning my weight a little.’ They came to a stop. They’d drifted all the way across the wide baby slope in a lazy diagonal. ‘Now you’re going to take us back to the other side again.’

  ‘Back up to where we started?’

  ‘Back to that side, but we’ll keep travelling down the hill. Snowboarding uphill is more Lesson Twenty-kinda stuff.’

  ‘I think you’re joking about that,’ said Alice. ‘So how do I move us?’

  ‘Lean to the left . . . with your whole body . . . a little more, and keep your weight in the direction you want to go. I know every instinct is trying to tell you to lean back.’

  Alice stared at the ground, the compressed, bumpy snow of the slope, and tried to force her body to do as Lola said.