What Happens in the Alps...

by T A Williams

  She wasn’t wrong.

  When she resurfaced at eight o’clock on Saturday morning and peered out into the grey light of day, all she could see was snow. It was still coming down hard and the wind, if anything, had intensified in strength. Snow had drifted onto her porch and there was a pile almost a metre high against the front door. The path to the road had disappeared under a blanket of the white stuff and her poor little Panda was totally hidden from sight beneath a mound of snow. She went through to the kitchen and put on the kettle. At least the power was still on. So often in situations like this, power lines were blown down or broken by the sheer weight of snow. She made herself a mug of tea and returned to the living room, taking a seat by the window.

  As it was a Saturday, she didn’t have to go anywhere. This was just as well because the roads, even to a car fitted with winter tyres, would be treacherous. She had ample food and drink to last her until Monday, so she settled down with her tea and watched the snow flurries beat against the window before falling onto the ever bigger drifts against the walls of the house. She could just about make out the end of the garden and the first of the fir trees beyond, their tops whipped to and fro by the wind. It was definitely a day for staying inside.

  The phone rang. It was Matt.

  ‘Hi, Annie, I just thought I’d phone to see if you’re okay.’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. What’s it like down in Santorso?’

  ‘I’ve just been across to the café and Signora Toniolo tells me it’s the worst snowfall she’s seen for years. Put it this way; I needed my boots just to cross the road. It must be knee-deep up where you are. Local radio’s been reporting loads of roads closed, including your road up to Montalto.’

  ‘I heard the snowplough go past a few minutes ago so I expect they’ll have the road open before long. Thanks for thinking of me, but I’m fine. What’re you doing today?’

  ‘Work, I’m afraid. I still haven’t cleared the Christmas logjam. Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll leave you to it. Give me a call if you need anything. The pickup’s got four-wheel drive so I should be able to make it up to your place without too much trouble.’

  ‘I’m fine, Matt. Thanks again.’

  Annie put the phone down and picked up her tea again. There was no getting away from it; Matt was terrific. Considering the way he treated most women, he was so very caring towards her. Of course, she reflected, this was presumably because he didn’t see her as a sex object, although she could clearly see that he was very fond of her. She was very fond of him, too, and, over the years, she had successfully managed to come to think of him almost as a brother. What was very strange was the way this fraternal image of Matt was beginning to morph into something more physical. Hadn’t she found herself thinking about his stomach muscles only the other day? Beneath the kind, friendly, caring Matt, she was beginning to get a glimpse of something altogether more hunky. After the way he had dealt with Gruglio, she was really very pleased that he had taken up her offer of renting a room at the school. It was comforting to have him around; very comforting and, maybe, just a little stimulating.

  The snow finally stopped some time Saturday night. When Annie awoke on Sunday morning, it was to a winter wonderland of snow, snow and more snow, all bathed in crystal-clear winter sunshine, under an intense blue sky. The snowfall of the past twenty-four hours had cleaned the atmosphere and visibility was amazing. Santorso was once more laid out clearly below her window and everywhere she looked, all she could see was white. Roofs, roads, gardens, trees and, of course, the mountains themselves, were under a thick coating of snow. It was beautiful, truly beautiful, as long as you didn’t have to go anywhere.

  After breakfast, Annie put on a jacket, gloves and boots and went out to start clearing the path. The snow was a good foot deep, even deeper in places, and she was boiling hot by the time she had removed enough snow for the path to be passable once more. As she worked, she occasionally heard the clank of chains and scraping sounds from the main road as the snowploughs did their best to clear the way. After a break for coffee, she went back outside again and removed as much snow as possible from the car. She knew that if she didn’t, with this clear sky, it would freeze overnight, and getting down to the school next morning for the important last week of preparations would be impossible.

  Back inside, she found herself thinking of Alex once more. She had been thinking about him a lot over the past few days and she was really looking forward to seeing him again that night. When she had learnt that he had been with his sister at the airport, her immediate reaction had been one of relief that he hadn’t gone off to the Caribbean with another woman. However, the discovery that he had had an affair with Daniela quite recently made her feel a little more uncomfortable. For all she knew, he might even have a girl in Rome where he was spending so much time. Maybe some of the incessant phone calls he kept getting were from other girls. Nevertheless, in spite of her doubts, she knew she was looking forward to seeing him.

  She flicked on the television in time to see the local news and from that she learnt that Turin airport was still closed due to adverse weather conditions. If the airport was closed, Alex might find it impossible to get back that evening, after all. She sent him a text, asking about his travel plans. There was no immediate reply and she wondered where he was and what he was doing. And with whom.

  Working on the basis that he would be coming to dinner that night, she started preparing food. She had decided to make him something English, just for a change, and shepherd’s pie was an easy option, and one of her tried and tested recipes. It was mid-morning and the pie had been in the oven for about twenty minutes when her phone whistled. It was a text from Alex.

  Really sorry. Stuck in Rome. Won’t be able to make dinner. Hope to see you tomorrow. XXX Alex.

  ‘Bugger.’ Although she been half expecting it, the news was very disappointing, even if the three Xs were rather nice. For a moment she felt angry, but just as quickly realised that it wasn’t his fault. If the airport was closed, there really wasn’t much he could do. She looked into the oven and saw that the Parmesan cheese she had sprinkled on top of the pie was already a crusty brown colour, so she switched the oven off, hoping the pie would still be good tomorrow.

  She sent him a brief reply and then sat down at the kitchen table. It was just past eleven o’clock and, after a day barricaded indoors yesterday, she was keen to get out. She decided to have a go at driving up to Montalto to go skiing. If the road conditions were too treacherous, she would just turn round and come straight back.

  In fact, things went a lot more smoothly than she had imagined. She was able to reverse back up the private road without too much difficulty, and when she emerged onto the main road it was to find it almost completely clear and a number of cars making their way up to the slopes with skis on their roofs. She joined the file and got up to Montalto without trouble, parking in the main car park. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t very full and the lifts and runs were unusually quiet for a Sunday. The powder snow looked amazing, but she didn’t like skiing off piste on her own, just in case something happened, so she stayed, for the most part, on the main runs, including the daunting Cock’s Comb. In the course of the day she spotted Paul, accompanying a group of beginners on the lower slopes, and a few other familiar faces as she skied around the domain. Finally, she got back to her car at almost four o’clock, tired but happy.

  After changing out of her ski boots into her fur-lined boots, she walked down to Signor Lago’s house and rang the bell. Romeo answered the door, the Labrador at his side. Annie found the old man sitting in the living room with his feet up and a tartan plaid across his legs to keep him warm. The fire was burning behind its glass screen and the room was boiling. Leo the dog was very pleased to see her and she made a fuss of him while Romeo went off to make the tea and Signor Lago quizzed her about her new house. She couldn’t thank him enough.

  ‘It’s fabulous. It’s warm, it’s cosy, the views are amazing and it a
lready feels like home.’

  ‘And the road to get up here?’

  ‘Clear. The snowploughs have done a great job. It’s a pity they weren’t down at Turin to clear the runway at the airport. I got a text message from Alex telling me he’s stuck in Rome until tomorrow.’

  Signor Lago nodded. ‘I bet he’s fuming. With the big weekend coming up soon, he needs to be here.’

  Romeo brought the tea and Annie sat and chatted for half an hour until it was starting to get dark outside and she knew she had to set off for home, before it started to freeze. Carefully extricating herself from the Labrador, who had adopted his usual place across her feet, she said goodbye to Signor Lago. He gave her a big smile.

  ‘Come again any time, my dear. It’s a joy to see you.’

  Annie drove carefully back down the road to her house. The grit lorry had been along and the road surface was wet with melted ice, and the noise of the grit spraying up underneath her car made her wonder what damage it might be doing. She reversed down the road to her house so that she would be pointing in the right direction next morning and went inside, determined to complete her lesson preparation for the hotel staff whose course would start two days later. As she changed out of her skiing clothes, she spared a thought for the cosy evening she had been anticipating. Whatever doubts she might have about Alex and Daniela, she couldn’t wait to see him again.

  Chapter 19

  In fact, it was Tuesday before Alex returned from Rome. Turin airport opened on Monday but further business complications kept him in Rome for another night. He arrived back at the Hotel Montalto not long after dark and Annie was one of the first to see him. She was just walking out through the lobby, after her first afternoon of lessons with the staff of the hotel, when his taxi drew up. She went over to open the door for him and he beamed as he caught sight of her.

  ‘Annie, Annie, how good to see you again after all this time.’ He dropped his bag and opened his arms to give her a hug. She didn’t hesitate.

  ‘Welcome home, Alex, and a Happy New Year to you.’ She kissed him warmly and buried her head against his shoulder, snuggling tightly up to him. It felt so very good to have him back again after not having seen him for more than three weeks. After a few moments, he stepped back, holding her at arm’s length as he studied her.

  ‘Annie, you look wonderful. You’ve got colour in your cheeks and you look happy and settled. Yes, a Happy New Year to you, too.’ She smiled back at him. She really was feeling good. As for him, his Caribbean tan was still visible and he looked fit and very handsome. She leant forward and kissed him again before releasing him.

  ‘I cooked shepherd’s pie for you. Do you want to come down and have it at my new house?’

  He smiled at her. ‘I can’t think of anything better, but probably not tonight; at least, not until a lot later on. I can only begin to imagine the pile of stuff on my desk that’ll need to be dealt with immediately.’ Seeing the disappointment on her face, he made a suggestion. ‘How about I give you a call later on, once I’ve got an idea of just how busy I’m going to be?’

  ‘Of course. Any time.’ As he went off, she felt a twinge of resentment that, after three whole weeks without seeing her, he was too busy to spend time with her. The more pragmatic half of her brain told her that business was business and he didn’t have much choice, while the more emotional other half felt seriously miffed. She went out into the freezing night air and across to the car park. Her mood wasn’t improved by her having to scrape freshly formed ice off the windscreen before she could drive down the hill to Le Pont.

  The phone call didn’t come through until almost ten o’clock. By that time, Annie was dozing on the sofa, watching a repeat of Inspector Montalbano on RAI. Half an hour earlier she had finally succumbed to hunger pangs and had made herself a cheese salad. The shepherd’s pie was in the oven on a low setting, beginning to look a bit burnt on top in spite of the sheet of foil she had used to cover it. When she saw it was Alex on the phone, she hoped he was hungry. After her salad, her appetite had left her. As it turned out, so had his.

  ‘Hi, Annie, look, I’m really sorry, but I just can’t get away. It’s mid-afternoon in the USA and the Americans are bombarding me with emails and phone calls. Would you mind if we have dinner together tomorrow night? To be honest, I’ve been nibbling at biscuits and drinking coffee all evening and I’m not that hungry now.’

  Annie swallowed her disappointment and told him she had had a sandwich and they agreed that, come hell or high water, he would come down to her house the following night for dinner. Somehow, Annie didn’t think the shepherd’s pie would look too good after being reheated a third time so, once he had rung off, she dug out a recipe book and looked for inspiration. As she thumbed through the book, she analysed her feelings. They were a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. But there was also an element of relief; relief that this gave her more time to decide how the evening should end.

  Part of her, a considerable part of her, was looking forward to what could well prove to be an inevitable progression from kissing and cuddling to an immensely exciting encounter in her big double bed. But the more rational part of her kept questioning her feelings at the thought of a man sharing her bed after everything she had been through over the last few years. The decision to offer him linguine alla carbonara was a lot easier to arrive at than the prospect of what might follow the meal.

  Wednesday was madly busy. Both of the new teachers arrived that day and Annie went to the station to meet them. It turned out they had already got to know each other on the aircraft coming over and Annie was delighted to see that they appeared to be getting along fine together. As they would be living in rooms side by side for at least the next few weeks, that was a relief. Annie took them round to their accommodation and saw them settled in. As she would have her romantic dinner with Alex that night, she had arranged for Paolina to take them out for a pizza and show them around. Matt had obligingly agreed to join them if he managed to finish a particularly fiddly translation in time.

  When she got to the school, it was mid-afternoon and Paolina was sitting behind her desk, wearing the Harrods jumper Annie had bought her. She looked very elegant and Annie told her so. Paolina smiled.

  ‘Thanks, Annie. But you’re the one who chose it. So, how are the new teachers?’

  ‘They’re lovely. I think they’re going to be fine. I’m sorry I can’t come out with you tonight, but I’ve got this dinner date I can’t get out of.’

  ‘Not that you want to get out of it.’ Paolina gave her a broad smile. ‘So, tonight’s the night, is it?’

  Annie felt her cheeks redden, rather regretting having told Paolina who her dinner guest was going to be. ‘I’m just cooking him dinner, Paolina. That’s all.’

  ‘Of course, just dinner.’ Paolina’s tone made clear what she thought of that answer. ‘I told Matt and he agreed with me; third date, at your place, all very intimate. No question; tonight’s the night.’

  For some reason Annie felt particularly embarrassed that Matt had been told about this evening. Just at that moment, he came out of his office.

  ‘Hi, Annie. You look as tired as I feel.’

  Annie smiled at him. ‘Why not take a break?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve got to get this done by ten o’clock tonight at the latest.’ He gave her a little smile. ‘Think of me while you’re enjoying your big romantic dinner.’

  ‘For your information, I’m just giving him dinner. And only pasta at that.’

  ‘And they say romance is dead…’

  ‘Don’t work too hard, Matt.’

  Annie left the school at half past five and drove home. After a cup of tea, she set about getting everything ready, starting with herself. She took a bath in her luxurious bathroom and changed into some new underwear, a tight skirt and a V-neck top. After studying herself in the mirror at length, she changed the jumper for one a little less revealing. As she did so, she was conscious that her uncertainty about he
r wardrobe was symptomatic of her own conflicting thoughts about how this evening should develop.

  She went into the bedroom to check that everything was in order; no dirty clothes on the floor or lying on the bed. She had put clean sheets on the bed not, she told herself, necessarily because she intended to use them with him, but because it was time to change the sheets anyway. Besides, it was always best to be prepared for any eventuality. In the kitchen, there wasn’t much preparation to be done. By deciding to do linguine alla carbonara, she could delay cooking until Alex arrived, knowing that it would all be ready in less than ten minutes. After looking at her watch yet again, she settled down to watch the TV and did her best to calm her nerves.

  She heard a car outside just after eight. She opened the door and saw that he had sensibly opted for a very smart-looking big 4x4, rather than the Ferrari. He climbed out and leant back inside to pick up a bottle of wine and she found her eyes glued, not to the shiny new car with a Porsche badge on the bonnet, but to his perfectly formed bottom. As he straightened up again and turned towards her, she flicked her eyes guiltily back to his face, her cheeks burning, not just from the freezing night air. She met him at the door and put her arms around his neck.

  ‘Hello, you.’ She kissed him and he kissed her back, pushing her gently against the door frame as he did so. Her hands gripped his leather jacket and pulled his body towards hers. It was a very good kiss and, as opening gambits went, she had to admit that it was pretty special. At last, regretfully, she released him and ushered him through to the living room. ‘Welcome to my new home. Have you been here before?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, but it all looks very familiar. It was built by the same builder as did my dad’s place. You can see the family resemblance.’ He set a bottle of champagne down on the table and shrugged off his jacket. He was wearing a beautiful, soft, light-grey, woollen jumper with a little green crocodile logo on the left breast. His dark hair was still damp from the shower and he looked very, very desirable. For a moment, Annie even found herself wondering if there was any need to bother with food, and her eyes flicked across to the bedroom door as an unexpected wave of lust swept over her.