What Happens in the Alps...

by T A Williams

  Annie did a bit of quick thinking. The idea of being so close to the ski slopes was amazing for somebody who loved the sport as much as she did. And if she remembered right, Le Pont was barely a ten or fifteen-minute drive from the school. It sounded fantastic. The problem, she feared, would be the price. She glanced around the magnificent room with its wood panelling and triple glazing. This sort of luxury didn’t come cheap. Still, the idea was very appealing, not least as, with a two-week Christmas hiatus coming up and no other accommodation on the horizon, she was beginning to get desperate. She gave him a big smile and thanked him most warmly for thinking of her. He held up a hand.

  ‘But first you’ve got to see it. You may not like it, after all. I took the liberty of speaking to them about you this morning and they sound very keen. Finish your tea and I’ll ask Romeo to take us down to view it.’

  Signor Dumoulin’s house was indeed very similar to Signor Lago’s. So similar, in fact, that Annie felt sure it had to be the work of the same architect. The guest chalet was less than a hundred metres from it, along a private road. There was no imposing stone wall round it, just a picket fence, now half submerged beneath the snow. Somebody had cleared the path to the front door in readiness for their visit. From the outside, it looked like a much smaller, single-storey version of the main chalet, all made of chunky wood. Old Signor Dumoulin opened the door and ushered them in.

  There was only a small kitchen, but it was beautifully furnished with granite work tops and top-of-the-range built-in oven and hob. He showed her a door in one corner leading down to a huge dry cellar under the house. Beyond the kitchen was a large, open-plan living room with a stylish silver woodburner in one corner. Like Signor Lago’s house, the end wall was all glass and this, too, looked out over the valley as far as Santorso. Even though they were a good few hundred metres lower than Montalto, the view over the roofs of Santorso was still wonderful. The floors throughout the house were made of wide wooden planks and it was boiling hot in there. Evidently, instructions had been given to turn the heating up.

  ‘There’s just the one bedroom.’ Signor Dumoulin opened a door set in the right-hand wall of the living room and Annie found a charming light wood-panelled bedroom with a large modern bathroom attached. There was no doubt about it; this place was absolutely gorgeous, and no doubt way outside her price range. She was on the point of formulating a suitable way of telling the old man she couldn’t afford it when he surprised her by naming a monthly rental figure that she really could afford. She began to protest.

  ‘But, Signor Dumoulin, surely you could rent this place for much, much more. Why, if you rented it short term during the ski season, you’d probably get that much each week, not each month.’

  He brushed away her protests. ‘My wife and I don’t want to rent it out to just anybody. No, Pierluigi tells me you need a home and we would like the place to be occupied. It seems to me an admirable solution. So, what do you say? Will you take it? Will you become our neighbour?’ He and Signor Lago exchanged glances. ‘Have a little walk around and think about it.’

  Annie took his advice and walked back into the living room, over to the windows, her eyes on the view. There was no doubt in her mind that this place was phenomenal and so conveniently located. Signor Dumoulin followed her and pointed out that the doors and windows on this wall opened up completely like a concertina onto the large wooden patio. Annie put her eyes to the window and could imagine sitting outside in the summer, admiring the view, a glass of wine in her hand. Decision made. As Signor Dumoulin closed the doors once more she looked across at him and held out her hand. ‘Signor Dumoulin, this place is absolutely fantastic. I’ll take it. Thank you so much.’

  When Annie got back to the school, she found the door open and a strong smell of fresh paint coming from Matt’s office. She pulled off her jacket and peered round the door. He was up a stepladder, running a roller across the ceiling.

  ‘Hi, Matt.’ She had to shout louder as he was wearing earphones. ‘Matt, it’s me.’ This time he heard her and turned round with a big smile.

  ‘Hi, Annie. How was the snow?’ He climbed back down the ladder and rested the roller on the paint tray. Annie glanced round. The orange painted walls were now a light cream colour and the ceiling all the better for receiving a coat of white. The room looked cleaner, fresher and a lot bigger.

  ‘The snow was amazing. Wow, this room looks completely different.’ Annie remembered that Matt had always been very good at DIY.

  ‘Yeah, but I’ll have to give it a second coat. That bloody orange keeps burning back through. By the way, while I was at it, I gave your office ceiling a fresh coat of white.’

  ‘Matt, you shouldn’t have. Cup of tea?’ Annie didn’t wait for his answer and went through to find her desk covered by a dust cloth and the ceiling looking much brighter. She went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. A glance out of the window into the gathering dusk told her it was almost tea time. She made two mugs of tea, located a packet of biscuits and walked back through to where Matt was just finishing his ceiling. He set down the roller and wiped his hands on a cloth. His arms were covered in drops of white paint and the black T-shirt he was wearing now looked like a Jackson Pollock original. His face was splattered and his thick dark hair was similarly covered.

  ‘Matt, you look about a hundred with your grey hair.’

  ‘I feel about a hundred after doing the ceilings. You know, I was just thinking that the ascent of the Petite Aiguille Verte is less strain on the arms and shoulders than painting a frigging ceiling. But I might just be showing my age.’ He flexed his back and came out into the hall to join her. He pulled up a chair, sat down and stretched his legs. Annie joined him and handed over his mug of tea.

  ‘Thanks, Annie, just what I wanted. So, tell me about the skiing.’

  ‘The most amazing powder. We skied for almost three hours and I feel like a total wreck now.’

  ‘You don’t look it.’ Matt sipped his tea. ‘Excellent. You said “we”. You and your new man, by any chance?’

  Annie gave him a little smile. ‘Not telling. Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask: where have you been staying this weekend?’

  Matt grinned back. ‘Not telling. No, seriously, I found a B&B just a few blocks from here. I’ve got a very nice room, although the Russian girls in the next room make a lot of noise. It’s almost as if they’re trying to attract my attention…’

  Annie shook her head in mock despair and then sat with him while they drank their tea and she told him the amazing news about Signor Dumoulin’s guest chalet on the road to Montalto. When he heard who had put her on to it, Matt whistled. ‘Wow, you’ve met old man Lago? The last I heard from Massimo, he was a hermit, a recluse; didn’t want to see anybody, kept himself to himself.’

  Annie told him about the Labrador and the accident and how Signor Lago had invited her to his house for rabbit stew to say thank you. Matt gave her a big smile. ‘One good turn deserves another. That’s absolutely great. And I look forward to seeing it. Anyway, now I’d better get back to my decorating. And remember, if the new place needs a coat of paint, you know you’ve got your very own decorator here.’

  ‘Thanks, Matt.’ Annie also stood up, collecting the mugs. She gave him a weary smile. ‘About the decorating, I said I’d give you a hand, but I’m exhausted after all the skiing and all the fresh air. Do you mind if I leave you to it?’

  ‘I’m almost done. You go on. I’ve got to be out of here by six at the latest as I’m off to the theatre.’ Seeing the expression on Annie’s face, he elaborated. ‘There’s a performance of Hamlet at the local theatre. I’d ask you to come, but I know for a fact that tickets are all sold out. I got the last one, probably behind a pillar, knowing my luck.’

  Annie was impressed. ‘Sounds great, but I’m too tired even to think about going out again.’ She headed for the kitchen with the dirty mugs. ‘Have a good evening.’ As she left him it occurred to her that it was very strange for Matt to be goin
g out on his own. Very strange indeed.

  Chapter 11

  When Paolina arrived on Monday morning, Annie was relieved to see that she had abandoned her vamp outfit and was more conventionally dressed in jeans and a jumper. Nevertheless, the fact that the jumper had a series of concentric circles across the front of it still maintained her quirky style. She looked like a dartboard.

  ‘Morning, Annie. Here’s the post.’ She put the letters on the counter and hung up her coat.

  ‘Morning, Paolina.’ Annie picked up the handful of envelopes and then remembered her promise to Paul. ‘Could you send an email to the ski school for me please, asking your friend Paul Cornaz to come down for a second interview? I’m not quite sure of his level and I need to double-check.’ She was delighted to see interest on Paolina’s face.

  Annie went through to her office. The newly painted ceiling made the room a lot lighter and she murmured a silent thank you to Matt for his efforts. She was just sitting down to check her post when she heard a commotion coming from reception. She got up and went to see what was happening. The window was open and all she could see was Paolina’s bottom as she leant dangerously out over the snow-covered sill.

  ‘Paolina, what on earth’s going on?’

  ‘It’s Matt. He’s in a fight.’ She sounded worried.

  ‘A fight?’ Annie pulled Paolina back inside and peered out in her place.

  ‘I heard raised voices and looked out. It’s Matt and some man down there.’

  Annie could just see the top of Matt’s head and, from where she was, it looked very much as though he was holding another man by the scruff of the neck. She ducked back inside and headed for the stairs, wondering how Matt had managed to get himself into a fight at that time of the morning.

  ‘Got that? Now, sod off and don’t let me catch you round here again.’ Matt’s normally mild voice was full of menace and this, as much as anything, caused Annie to stop at the front door. As she looked on, Matt dismissively pushed the other man out of the way. The man almost fell, pulled himself together, swore at Matt, but then turned apprehensively and ran off. But not before Annie had had time to recognise him as the same man who had tried to steal her sign. She opened the door and went across to where Matt was picking papers from the frozen pavement. As he saw her, he visibly relaxed and gave her a smile.

  ‘Not a very nice person, Annie. I found him standing outside your door, handing these out.’ He handed a leaflet to Annie. There was no missing the bold ABC School logo on the front. ‘I think I’m going to need to have to have a few words with these people.’

  Annie took his arm. ‘No, don’t worry, Matt. Don’t get involved; it’s not your problem. I’ll get on to the local police. I recognised him. It’s the same man who was trying to steal my sign. The police can deal with it.’

  Matt didn’t look convinced, but he collected the last of the flyers and allowed her to lead him back inside the building. Upstairs, Paolina stared at Matt with unconcealed admiration as he came in, hung up his coat and went off to wash his hands.

  ‘Did you see him, Annie? He looked ever so tough. I’ve never seen Matt like that before.’ Neither had Annie. She had only ever seen him as a gentle, normally light-hearted sort of guy and the sight of him leaping to her rescue was actually rather touching, maybe even stimulating. The way he had pushed the other man across the street had been like something out of a movie. She shook her head pensively. She was just so glad that Matt had been there to help out. Certainly, his occupation of one of the rooms looked like being the best thing that could have happened to her while this sort of thing was going on. It felt really good to have a strong, supportive man at her side.

  Just then she remembered what she had been meaning to ask Paolina for a few days now. ‘By the way, the man was the same one I saw trying to steal our sign the other night. So it’s clear that the ABC School man was behind that as well. Did you or Rita find out anything about him? What was his name? Gruppio?’

  Paolina shook her head. ‘Gruglio. Not yet, but Rita knows somebody who knows one of the teachers. I’m seeing her tomorrow; hopefully she’ll have some information.’

  When Matt emerged from the bathroom, Annie took him across to the café for an espresso, leaving Paolina in the school, looking wistful. When she told Matt that Rita might have some news about the ABC man, he nodded. ‘So might I. There’s this girl I know who works in the local government offices. I’m going to ask her if she can dig up any dirt on that place.’ He caught Annie’s eye. ‘If he can play dirty, so can we.’

  ‘But it’s not your fight, Matt. It’s mine.’

  He smiled at her across the top of his coffee cup. ‘Your fight is my fight. Trust me, Annie, it’s mine, too. I have a vested interest, after all. If your school fails, then my office disappears. Let me have a word with her. Hopefully she can dig up something on him that we can use to shut him up.’

  ‘But why should she go out on a limb for you?’

  He looked almost apologetic. ‘I rather think she’s got a soft spot for me.’

  ‘But you don’t feel the same way?’

  ‘She’s not my type, Annie.’

  Annie didn’t ask what his type was.

  Annie heated up some soup for lunch and then phoned her mother to tell her she had decided she would be coming home to the UK for Christmas. She had booked her flight for the following Saturday, the last before Christmas, and would come straight down to Devon by train for the festivities. Her mother was delighted, and even more delighted when Annie told her about the lovely new house she had been offered.

  Five minutes after putting the phone down, it rang again. This time it was Karen.

  ‘Hi, Annie. Mum just rang and she tells me you’re coming over for Christmas. That’s great.’ She went on to relate news of her family, school pantomimes and sports triumphs, before asking, ‘So, what’s new with you?’

  Annie paused, unsure whether to mention Alex or not. In the end she opted for full disclosure. ‘Erm, I’ve been out to dinner with a man.’

  Karen pounced. ‘I knew it. It’s Matt, isn’t it? You’ve gone and done it and you and he are an item now. Good for you, Annie. I’m so jealous. He’s such a gorgeous…’

  Annie leapt in to put her sister straight. ‘Not Matt, Karen. I told you; that’s never going to happen. No, this is a different man.’ She paused.

  ‘A different man? Go on, tell me more. If he’s more attractive than Matt, then I’m filing for divorce and coming straight over there.’

  ‘His name’s Alex. He’s half English, half Italian. He’s about Matt’s height, similar build, dark hair, very good-looking, but he’s not a “get them into bed and then dump them” man like Matt.’ As she spoke, she found herself hoping desperately that this would not prove to be the case. ‘At least I don’t think he is.’

  ‘And he does what?’

  ‘He works in the new hotel at Montalto.’ She decided to keep the fact that he owned the hotel secret for the time being. ‘I’ve been out to dinner with him and I’ve been skiing with him and we get on really well.’

  ‘So could you be getting interested in another man, after all? I thought men were off the agenda for now. Don’t get me wrong; I think you’re doing just the right thing. I reckon you need a strong, supportive man at your side.’

  Annie reflected that she had just used those exact same words to herself, but referring to Matt, rather than Alex. ‘Goodness, who knows? It’s early days, Karen, and nothing’s happened between us yet. But let’s just say that we get on really well together.’ Then she went on to tell her sister about the guest chalet and how she would be living only a few kilometres from the pistes. Unsurprisingly, Karen was impressed, and jealous.

  ‘Well, you deserve some good luck after the past two years. New man, fabulous house, loads of enrolments at your school; things are looking good, Annie.’

  ‘Not necessarily a new man. Like I say, it’s early days. As for the house, although there’s only one bedroom, I’
ve got that sofa bed, so there’ll be room for you, with or without Chris, any time. If I can find a couple of spare mattresses, I should be able to squeeze the boys in as well.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me. And, anyway, if Matt’s going to be living in Santorso, why on earth would I want to bring my husband?’

  ‘Karen, behave.’

  As she finished her lunch, Annie wasn’t thinking about Matt, whatever her sister thought of him. No, she was thinking more and more about Alex. They shared a number of common interests. There was his ability with languages, a shared love of skiing and fine dining. Well, she admitted to herself, his tastes are maybe a bit more refined and a bit pricier than mine, but we both like good food. Then there was his love of dogs. Apart from that, she reluctantly realised, she didn’t actually know that much about him and she resolved to do a bit of digging next time they met up. Hopefully his commitments wouldn’t prevent him from having dinner with her one night that week.

  It was mid-afternoon when Annie got two phone calls in quick succession. The first was Matt, to tell her he was on his way down to Florence to sort out his house move. ‘I should be back on Wednesday or Thursday evening. Can I buy you a pizza then?’

  ‘I’ll buy you the pizza. It’s not every day a kind man decorates a girl’s ceiling. It’s the least I can do.’

  Only a matter of minutes later the phone rang again. This time it was Alex. She was delighted to hear his voice.

  ‘Hi, Annie, how about dinner on Wednesday night?’