The Little Swiss Ski Chalet

by Julie Caplin

  But there was only one way down and Bernhardt, already a bright blue speck, was about to disappear from sight. Grasping her poles, she edged forward, her skis already in snowplough position. Behind her she heard voices and then a group of six appeared. With excited shouts and whoops they hurled themselves over the edge, one of them bumping into her with his arm. Although it only knocked her a tiny bit off balance, it was enough to startle her and she drew her skis together, and before she could stop herself she’d begun moving down the slope. In an undignified scramble she gathered her poles and tried to stay upright. By some miracle she managed, but her skis were in control, not her. She leaned back instead of forwards, which made things worse, and quickly righted herself. Her skis were picking up speed far quicker than she could have imagined. Don’t panic, she told herself. Don’t panic. But she was going too fast now. The wind whipped in her face and it took all her concentration to steer along the narrow path and not look towards the drop on her right. One of her skis scraped over a rock, sending her careering off course, making her heart pound in fear. Stay upright, Mina. Stay upright. She tucked her poles close to her sides, bent her knees, and tried to keep her balance as she hurtled downwards, everything in her peripheral vision a blur of white. Inside her roll-neck top, she felt the sweat breaking out as she tried to focus.

  As the track widened ahead, she tried to push her legs out to snowplough but was going at such a speed she was terrified she was going to end up doing the splits. A small whimper of fear escaped and she clamped her mouth shut, her mind desperately trying to think. Attempting a turn here would be impossible, there wasn’t enough room, and if she tried to ski parallel across the slope, she’d either end up in the rocks or career off the run to tumble down the steep mountain side. All she could do was stay upright and pray like crazy that the run would end soon but glancing ahead that didn’t look very likely. Every jolt and bump of her skis made her pulse jerk and her heart jump in her chest. Her hands cramped, gripping the poles so tightly as she fought the temptation to try and slow herself down with them.

  At last the run came into an open section although it curved sharply away to the right and then over a swell and down even more steeply. Her stomach churned and she sucked in a terrified breath. Now or never… She remembered everything she’d been taught about turning. Turn your feet, but not your body. Feet not body. Feet not body. Face forwards. She kept chickening out. Then she did it. Screwing her eyes tight shut probably wasn’t the smartest move. One of her skis scraped over something hard, the edge catching. She flew rather than fell, her legs tangling with the skis, and she hit the snow with a resounding wallop that thudded through her ski helmet. Her body carried on scudding down the slope and she scrabbled for purchase, feeling a sharp pain in her knee as her ski caught. Like a grappling iron it thankfully anchored her momentarily, until her boot unclipped from the ski and she came to a merciful, crumpled halt.

  For a moment she lay winded and disorientated, and it took her a minute to realise she must have flipped at some point as her head faced down the slope. Giving into an almost welcome sense of defeat she stayed put, a little scared by the thundering beat of her heart. Perhaps if she just lay here, she could pretend that everything was fine, and that she didn’t still have to get down the rest of this awful slope. Self-pitying tears welled up in her eyes that she couldn’t even dash away without taking off gloves, goggles, and helmet. Maybe if she just stayed put someone would find her. And then she’d look a complete idiot, because clearly this run was far too difficult for someone who’d only done a couple of weeks’ real skiing. Come on, pull yourself together and stop being such a wuss, she finally told herself, and carefully hauled herself up, feeling an ache in one her arms where she’d wrenched it. Her knee hurt too, where it had been twisted when her leg went one way and the ski the other. But on the plus side, as she gingerly tested each limb, nothing had broken – although everything seemed to hurt, especially her head.

  Forcing herself to her feet, she unclipped the other ski and trudged a few metres back up the slope to collect the other one. After weighing up all her options she decided that there was nothing for it but to walk down this bit and through the mogul field that she could now see ahead. If the run got easier in places she put her skis back on, but up here with that treacherous drop to her right she refused to take any chances.

  Once she started moving, the aches and pains receded. Although her head still thumped, some of her natural optimism reasserted itself. It could be a lot worse. She could walk, the sun was shining, and now that her heart no longer threatened to pump its way out of her chest, she could appreciate the wonderful view. No wonder Luke loved it up here; these mountains made you aware of your own insignificance at the same time as inspiring you to live life to the full. Mina couldn’t imagine a more life-affirming sight. Hoisting her skis higher onto her shoulder and gripping her poles in one hand, she trudged down the hill, tilting her face up to the sun, and tried not to think about where Luke might be right now, and what he was doing. Instead she just said a heartfelt prayer, focusing on the mountain tops. Please let him be safe and happy. It had been a month now. Had he set sail yet?

  A skier shushed by and then swerved to a flashy stop.

  ‘Mina.’ Kristian pushed up his goggles, his kind eyes anxiously surveying her. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Took a tumble. This is a bit advanced for me. My pride is bruised and a few other bits of me, but I’m OK.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He bent and unclipped his skis. ‘I will walk with you.’

  ‘You don’t need to do that.’

  With a boyish grin, he shrugged. ‘I can ski anytime. I like talking to you.’

  ‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’ She felt pathetically grateful to him. ‘I thought I’d wait for an easier bit and maybe have another go.’

  ‘Yes, otherwise it is a long walk.’ A thought struck him, so obviously that it made Mina chuckle. ‘Where is Bernhardt?’

  ‘Long gone,’ she said.

  Kristian frowned but didn’t say anything.

  ‘Not very gentlemanly,’ she teased, trying to make light of it with a laugh. ‘He was testing my mettle.’ She paused, before saying, more to herself than Kristian, ‘He failed.’

  His frown deepened. ‘I thought he liked you.’

  ‘He did.’ Mina grinned which clearly puzzled the poor man.

  ‘You didn’t like him?’

  ‘As a friend,’ she said to keep things simple. Actually Bernhardt had opened her eyes to something she’d missed. Luke would never have left her on the mountain, he would have made sure she was safe. He would have made it his responsibility to know what she was capable of before he took her anywhere. It struck her that Luke might be fun and impulsive, but at the same time he thought things through, planned, and weighed up the risks. She’d been an idiot to let him go. She should have fought harder to keep him. He was the perfect match for her. Now all she had was hope that one day serendipity would deliver and bring him back to her.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  She and Kristian skied to the end of the run, which traversed the mountain going across instead of down, which meant that the slope flattened out a lot and lower down became, thankfully, a lot easier. Even so Mina’s leg’s felt decidedly wobbly, and she was even more grateful to see the two-way lines of the cable cars and the station up ahead.

  As always she took a moment to take in the view, the craggy mountain tops, greyed-out against the white, the sun casting secretive shadows in the rough-hewn, granite faces. They made her think of sleeping giants keeping a watchful, and possibly despairing, guard over the planet. And such thoughts led her to Luke, and him taking her to the viewpoint of Eggishorn.

  Another overnight fall of snow had created fresh pristine vistas with only a few ski tracks marring the surface, and crystals of ice sparkled in the sun like half buried diamonds. The clouds had rolled back and edged the mountains leaving a crater of blue above them and the sun’s rays felt warm on her
face. This was what was important. Life, being alive, and enjoying what you had. She forced away the melancholy that crept in, like a stray dog, whenever it got the chance.

  ‘What kept you?’ asked Bernhardt with a Cheshire cat grin when they pulled level with him at the bottom, where he was chatting to another group. ‘Are you ready for that beer?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Mina with a wink at Kristian.

  Kristian rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything about their painful progress down the mountain. He’d actually been a patient and kind coach once they’d got back on their skis, guiding her down some of the more difficult bits, breaking them up into small achievable sections. Underneath all that social awkwardness, lurked a very kind, gentle, and surprisingly thoughtful man, and Mina could see exactly why Amelie was so determined to nurture him.

  As they queued in the busy bar, delayed shock began to set in, and the sweat on her body had cooled now making her a little chilly.

  ‘Why don’t we sit inside?’ suggested Kristian.

  ‘No,’ said Bernhardt. ‘Why would you want to? It’s a lovely day.’

  ‘I’m feeling a bit cold,’ insisted Kristian.

  ‘I’ll stay inside with you,’ said Mina shooting him a grateful glance.

  ‘Beer?’ asked Bernhardt with an impatient huff, as the girl serving approached them.

  ‘I think I’m going to have hot chocolate. Mina?’

  ‘That’s a good idea.’ she replied, doubly grateful to him – having alcohol on top of the shock probably wasn’t very sensible. She still had to get down the mountain, and although the cable car was there, she wasn’t sure where it went to and how much more skiing she would have to do from there. She had a sudden memory of Luke poring over the ski map with her, explaining exactly where they were and how to get back from Eggishorn.

  Having placed and received their orders, they made their way to a table, Mina and Kristian both protectively cupping the tall glasses of whipped creamed and chocolate shavings as if to shield them from harm.

  ‘How do you find that run?’ asked Bernhardt.

  ‘Terrifying.’ Mina grinned.

  ‘Well done for getting down. It’s quite challenging.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Mina, keeping the fixed grin in place. She could see Kristian about to say something, but before she could nudge him under the table, he decided against it and applied himself to the cream on his drink. She smiled: he was learning.

  After a sandwich, she excused herself. ‘There are a few things I could do in the café and they’re preying on my mind.’

  ‘Do you need any help?’ asked Kristian.

  ‘No, I’m fine.’ There wasn’t actually anything to do, she just wanted to go and potter in the café and revel in being there. Her boxes of china were due to arrive any day, thanks to Hannah painstakingly packing it all up, and she couldn’t wait to be reunited with them and see them in situ.

  ‘All work and no play,’ said Bernhardt, once again showing off his command of English.

  ‘I guess I don’t really think of it as work, and that’s when you know you’ve made the right decision,’ and as she said it, Mina felt a satisfying sense of contentment settle over her.

  To her delight the china had arrived while she was out, and one of Amelie’s neighbours had kindly collected it from the depot to save the driver a job.

  ‘Isn’t it pretty?’ cried Amelie in delight as they knelt on the pretty new cushions on the floor of the café, unwrapping sheet after sheet of newspaper to reveal tea plates, cups, saucers, and cake stands. Mina stroked the gilt pattern of one of the plates, relieved that it had all made it in one piece.

  ‘Yes, I’ve been collecting it for a couple of years, although I’m not quite sure I’m going to have quite enough.’ As a last resort she’d have to buy some of the very plain white china that was sold in the wholesalers, but in the short term she could be borrow plates and cups from Amelie.

  They stacked the china in haphazard piles on one of the rustic tables, one of eight that Johannes’s cousin, Pieter, had provided. He made furniture, and these were unsold pieces that he’d let Mina have at a heavily discounted price. She’d ordered spindle backed chairs and cushions in shades of green, yellow, and white, embroidered with traditional Swiss cross-stich patterns to create a fresh bright colour scheme.

  Mina stepped back to survey the room, which despite being full, still looked huge. The big barn doors had been replaced with a large picture window, and on either side were heavy double-glazed bi-fold doors, which would fold back in the summer to give access to a terrace. The groundwork for that couldn’t start until the spring thaw, but in the meantime customers had a wonderful view from behind the glass. The café area with the kitchen and the chairs and tables took up three quarters of the space, but the final quarter was partitioned off with one of the original rustic wooden walls that would have penned in the cattle. Here Mina, with Amelie’s artistic direction, had created an improved tasting and display room for Johannes’s chocolate range, with further space for other local products which Mina still needed to source. She just hadn’t had time.

  ‘Now I have a surprise for you. My opening gift for the café.’ From behind the counter where the kitchen would be installed, Amelie pulled – or rather dragged – out a huge parcel, nearly two metres long. ‘I have a friend in Gluringen who works with wood.’

  Mina fought her way through the brown paper and yet more layers of bubble wrap to reveal the carved swirling letters painted in green to match her feature wall.

  Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘Oh Amelie, you didn’t have to do this. It’s beautiful.’

  ‘I hope it’s alright, but I didn’t place the order with the signwriter like you asked me to. As soon as you said what you wanted to call the café, I thought of Gregor.’

  Mina traced the S at the front of the sign. ‘It’s perfect.’

  ‘I’m still curious why you’ve called it that.’

  Mina’s gave her a tearful smile. ‘One day, I’ll tell you.’

  Rather than plague her for an answer like some people would have done, Amelie nodded. ‘When you’re ready.’

  Mina prayed that the day would come. Until then she could only hope.

  ‘It’s nearly time for cake and coffee, do you want to choose a cake stand for the Gotthelftorte?’

  ‘That’s easy. The one there with the gilt edges and the tiny pink flowers and green trailing ivy design. It will go perfectly with the raspberries. That is one beautiful chocolate cake, I think you make it better than me.’

  ‘I’m sure I don’t.’

  Amelie shook her head. ‘Either way, the guests are going to have a treat this afternoon, although now the evenings are growing long, more of them will stay out a little later.’

  ‘Johannes will appreciate it,’ teased Mina.

  ‘Johannes is rapidly becoming a cake connoisseur, among other things.’ Her godmother’s mouth twitched and there was a dreamy look in her eye that Mina really didn’t want to think too much about.

  ‘Well, he’d better like this one, as I used his chocolate.’ The recipe using melted chocolate made the most delicious squidgy moist sponge and Mina had already decided that it would be one of the signature dishes in the café. She would ring the seasonal changes with different fruit garnishes.

  ‘He’s also…’ Amelie paused and blushed. ‘He’s about to take on a new role.’

  ‘He is?’

  ‘We’re getting married.’

  Mina squealed. ‘Oh my God!’ She threw her arms around her godmother. ‘That’s amazing.’

  ‘I wanted you to be the first to know.’

  ‘When? How?’

  Amelie laughed. ‘You don’t think it’s too soon?’

  Mina stopped, hit by a sudden wave of grief. ‘No, not when you know.’

  It had taken one kiss for her and Luke, although it had taken her another two weeks to appreciate it, and now when it was far too late, she knew that there’d never be anyone quite as perfect as
him.

  ‘It was quite romantic,’ Amelie laughed. ‘I’d never have thought it of Johannes, he’s always been such a gruff bear.’

  ‘The love of a good woman, you see.’

  ‘Hmm, or maybe mellowing with age.’

  ‘So how did he propose?’

  ‘He asked me to look at a new wine list for the chalet that he’d put together, because he had a few new additions from a new supplier that he thought I might like.’ Amelie’s eyes sparkled as she recalled the memory. ‘When I read the list, there was a wine Will You Marry Me from the vineyard of Johannes Metterhorn. “A loyal, faithful grape variety, occasionally short-tempered but always good-hearted.”’

  ‘Ah, that’s lovely.’

  ‘But you don’t think people will think it’s very sudden?’

  ‘No, people will think you’ve finally taken pity on the poor man. It was obvious the first day I arrived that he adored you.’

  Amelie giggled. ‘You wouldn’t think so if you knew what a hard time he gave me when I first opened the chalet.’

  ‘That’s just his way, he likes to challenge things. I suspect he was worried that you might not stay the course.’

  With a sigh Amelie pulled Mina closer and put her arm across her shoulder. ‘I probably wouldn’t have done, without you. I was already thinking about giving up my dream before you came. You were right: it is too much work for one person on their own, and I was too stubborn to let go. Then having a heart attack forced me to. When I lay in that hospital bed, thinking of all the bother I was causing, I very nearly decided to put it on the market and go back to Basel. And then you, my wonderful girl, gave me all the solutions. I’m so grateful to you. I wish I could do some thing to make you happy.’ Her smile held a hint of sadness and sympathy. ‘I think that’s the way of the newly engaged: they want everyone to be as happy as they are.’

  ‘I’m happy,’ said Mina, indignation tinging her voice. ‘Perfectly happy. I’ve found what I want to do. And I’ve also decided to set up a blog about Swiss food, talking about the origins of the recipes, the regional foods, and the seasonal dishes. Maybe try and write a recipe book or two. I’d quite like to do one all about chocolate. There’s so much I want do. It’s exciting.’ And true, she’d found her place here, and the time and space to do the things that she really wanted to do. Only one thing was missing, and it wouldn’t kill her.