Five Ladies Go Skiing

by Karen Aldous

  ‘I’m so excited,’ Angie squealed, her eyes rolling from me to Kim.

  ‘Angie baby, I’m coming even if it’s to keep you out of mischief,’ I assured her.

  ‘Me too.’ Kim smiled.

  She jumped in the air. ‘I’m so excited. We definitely need to up our fitness.’

  I kissed her cheek as I passed her and headed for the stairs.

  Neil, looking dashing in dark navy jeans and a mint green polo shirt, took my hand as I reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘Wow,’ he said, ‘you look lovely. As always, but … simply beautiful.’

  I smiled, feeling calm, Kim and Angie circling me as they followed. I felt all eyes on us. ‘Thank you, Neil,’ I said air-kissing his cheeks the Swiss way; three times. ‘You look very smart too. Did the Flowers get you a drink?’

  He nodded. ‘Indeed, the Flowers have been perfect hosts. I’ve got a beer and Cathy topped up your wine. One can only hope the food and service is matched at Ma Maison.’

  ‘Oh, you smooth-talker you,’ Angie said, affectionately squeezing his arm. She gazed at me and smirked. ‘He didn’t stop jabbering about you all morning. I couldn’t get him back on the slopes after we stopped.’

  The room filled with laughter and as Cathy handed me my wine, Lou gave a toast. ‘Here’s to two wonderful people and to a lovely evening. Santé!’

  ‘Santé,’ we cheered.

  ‘And, here’s to Angie’s fund-raising trek.’ I explained to Neil: ‘We’ve pledged to go with Angie to raise money for a cancer charity. Machu Picchu or Nepal, we’re hoping.’

  ‘Wow, you ladies get bolder by the minute,’ Neil enthused. ‘That’s five sponsorships I’ll have to find – whoa, what’s in the cupboard?’ We cackled as Neil stepped towards the kitchen in jest, then winked before stepping back and taking my hand. ‘Sorry, I wouldn’t miss this dinner date for the world. Ready?’

  ‘Indeed, I am.’ I smiled back at him.

  The girls air-kissed us. ‘Think of us scraping around the empty cupboards,’ Lou said.

  ‘And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ Angie sniggered.

  I would have cried if I hadn’t rendered my face with so much make-up. ‘I love you, Flowers – you are the best!’ Gathering my coat and bag, I swanned out of the chalet feeling like Cinderella.

  Chapter 17

  Cathy

  I couldn’t deny that seeing Ginny holding hands with a man other than Mike was a little disconcerting, but it was truly poignant to witness the change in her in just a few days. Her posture, the brightening of her eyes, watching her smile radiate as she strode happily out of the door; I found it so rewarding to watch. This trip had worked wonders already, so all our efforts had paid off, I thought smiling to myself as the door closed.

  I bounced out of my reverie and picked up my phone, once again trying to contact Anthony. I was bursting to tell him the news and to have a chat. Again, it went to voicemail. It didn’t make sense. After all his calling and pestering me, he was now ignoring me. I cursed myself too for insisting we disconnect the house phone before we went off for the year travelling. We both had mobiles. The internet. What was the point when it didn’t get used? I slipped my phone back into my pocket and then it suddenly shrilled into life. Kim said something as I hit the button. I mouthed to her it was Ant before curling up on the sofa.

  ‘Darling, I’ve been trying to get hold of you; where have you been?’

  Anthony captured his breath. ‘Sorry, love, I was so busy I forgot to charge my phone yesterday, so it’s been here at home whilst I was out at golf all day.’

  ‘Didn’t you see my messages?’ I asked, quickly screwing up my face. After that petrifying fall, I had decided not to evoke any arguments when I next spoke to him.

  ‘I’ve just come in the door. So, are you OK?’

  ‘Yes, fine. I …’

  ‘Cath, look,’ he interrupted. ‘I’m sorry about the other day. I shouldn’t have let off steam like that. You were right: it wasn’t the right time. I was missing you and feeling sorry for myself.’

  ‘But, darling, I couldn’t help feeling that some of what you said was true. It’s been on my mind and I’m keen to have a chat with you about it when I get back. There’s an element of me that I accept needs addressing. I have been preoccupied with my writing and feel I should spend a bit more time with you. We should do more things together, is what I’m saying.’

  ‘Yes and no, Cathy. Yes, a day or two a week would be great to get out and about. Like we used to. Visit the coast or go for a walk by the river at Hampton Court, or the odd weekend away.’

  I gripped the bottom of my fleece as my lips wobbled. ‘Oh, Ant darling, that would be lovely, yes, I could manage my writing routine better so that we do more.’

  ‘But, to be honest, I’ve been in a rut. I was talking to Terry and Rob about it yesterday. I need to do something. I’m not sure I should have fully retired and I’m considering looking around for options. I know I’ll need to get my head into gear, maybe start running again—’ he paused ‘—stop drinking so much. But it’s stuff I can work on. I love you, Cath.’

  I sniffled involuntarily. ‘And, I love you too, Anthony.’ I composed myself. ‘Darling, I had a scary fall which has given me quite a jolt actually.’

  ‘What do you mean a fall? Were you hurt? I’ll come and get you, drive over …’

  ‘No, darling, don’t panic, it was nothing major or critical, no damage done, just a jolt to my senses more than anything. I slid …’

  ‘Oh, God, Cath, you be careful. Are you skiing again?’

  ‘Yes, and I did go and ski again after it happened. I’m made of tough stuff, surprisingly, tougher than I imagined. Maybe we could come together next year. Darling, you would love it.’

  ‘It all sounds pretty dangerous to me.’

  I chuckled. ‘That’s what I thought, darling, but really, it’s lovely. It’s beautiful, the scenery, it’s sunny most days, the skiing’s hard work on your legs but you find yourself wanting to get to the next level. And the après-ski is just down your street, a fabulous ambience in most of the restaurants and bars. And Ginny is out on a date tonight.’

  The silence was deafening. I remained silent too, interested to gauge his reaction, especially as he had worked himself up previously about the behaviour of men away from home. I thought he would be pleased.

  ‘Do you all approve of this man she is out on a date with? Is he married? Do you know where he’s taken her? I’m not getting great vibes from this ski trip, Cathy.’

  ‘Darling, don’t panic. He’s widowed too. He’s very nice and Ginny likes him. That’s all we need to worry about. She’s come a long way this week; it’s done her good. And, they’re not far away from the chalet. It’s only a small village. He’s met us all a few times and none of us have any undue concerns. We’re just happy the spring is back in her step.’

  He cleared his throat. ‘Well, as long as she’s OK. You don’t seem worried. But who knows what an axe-murderer looks like?’

  ‘Darling, we would have used every power possible if we had any doubts, I can assure you. Now, be happy for her. She’s entitled to move on with her life any way she pleases.’

  ‘Of course, I’m happy for her. Let her know, too.’

  ‘I will, darling, and I’m looking forward to seeing you. We’ll have a lovely chat, OK?’

  Kim

  ‘Ginny looked so happy,’ I said to the girls as she and Neil left, but my heart was still torn – how could I burst that blissful bubble? I turned to Cathy who had just answered her phone.

  ‘She was,’ she said and gestured, waving the phone, mouthing it was Ant. She slumped on the sofa.

  ‘Exciting. I’m so jelo,’ Angie shouted from the downstairs cloakroom.

  I waded across to the kitchen behind Lou who was leaning in the fridge. ‘Lou. You can’t still be hungry after all that pizza?’ I asked.

  ‘No, but I do fancy something sweet. The chocolates are finished and there’s only o
ne yoghurt.’

  ‘And the supermarket is now closed,’ I told her, glancing at my watch. I pondered for a few seconds. ‘Why don’t we shower and go out to the Trappeurs? I saw people eating crepes there the other night.’

  Lou’s eyes popped out almost hitting the ceiling. ‘Great idea. Let’s.’

  Angie came out of the loo. ‘What’s that?’

  Cathy finished her phone call. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Do you fancy crepes? I thought we could shower and go along to Les Trappeurs, have a drink and a crepe.’

  Patting her stomach, Cathy puffed out her cheeks. ‘I’ve had more than enough to eat. But feel free to go. Now Anthony’s settled a bit, I’d quite enjoy curling up in the bath with my book. I’m exhausted. We haven’t stopped all week.’

  ‘Me too,’ Angie said. ‘I fancy a nice hot bath and listening to some music.’

  I glanced at Cathy. ‘That was a short call; is Anthony OK?’

  ‘Yes, thank goodness. Getting back some perspective it seems, and possibly tired after being out in the fresh air playing golf.’ Cathy gave a little clap accompanied by a wriggle. ‘Well done, Terry and Rob. Thank them for me.’

  Lou clapped cheerfully too, leaning over the kitchen counter and picking three sachets of hot chocolate out of the dish. ‘Fantastic news, sweetheart. I must thank Terry. And look what I’ve found.’ She waved the sachets in the air. ‘So, three hot choccies and a yoghurt – who wants the yoghurt?’

  Cathy laughed. ‘Not you, darling, clearly. I’m happy with the yoghurt,’ she said picking up her Kindle and heading for the stairs. ‘I will eat it after my bath.’

  Angie followed Cathy. ‘Could you bring my chocolate up, please, Lou? I’m going to run my bath too.’

  Whilst Cathy and Angie disappeared upstairs, Lou and I got cracking, finding the biggest mugs at the rear of a top cupboard to fill with our milky chocolates.

  ‘A quiet night in then?’ I said to Lou, half-filling the first mug with milk and putting it in the microwave.

  She scrunched her nose. ‘I know, sweet. It’s criminal when there’s so much to do, but it will do us more good than harm, I suspect. It’s been quite a rollercoaster this week, hasn’t it?’

  ‘It has,’ I admitted with a sigh, feeling the angst of the next big dip. I feared that if we sat and chatted, I could very well end up spilling everything out to Lou.

  Lou half-filled the next mug with milk, then the next. ‘I’m glad all our secrets are out,’ she said. ‘I’d virtually buried that Jimmy episode. Can’t believe he turned up here! But it felt liberating, knowing I have nothing hidden from my friends. His lure at the time was far more excruciating though. I can’t believe I was actually contemplating going to see him. Can you imagine? Terry and the kids would have been devastated. And I love Terry so much.’

  I reached out and hugged Lou. ‘You followed what was in your beautiful heart, honey,’ I said, squeezing her tighter. ‘If it feels right, then it is.’

  ‘What would we do without one another?’ Lou asked giving me a final squeeze.

  I dropped my arms and shuffled back to the microwave and replaced the first mug with the next, pouring the sachet and water in and stirring. ‘Impossible to imagine, hon. Here. You have the first choc,’ I said passing the chocolate-filled mug to her. ‘There must be people who are lonely, castigated for something or other. I doubt anyone can go through life without something damaging them. Your perspective changes as you become older, certainly. I wouldn’t dream of doing what I did back then, asking a guy to impregnate me. I must have been mad.’

  ‘Kimmy. Sweetheart. Don’t fret about it,’ Lou said. ‘None of us know what lengths we can be driven to until pushed. It’s turned out perfectly. You and Will have two beautiful girls. I have Terry, Emma and Ollie. I just can’t imagine living life with another man and having other children or grandchildren. Crazy thought!’

  ‘Poor Ginny. No Mike now.’ I watched the mug in the microwave turning as my own conscience spiked. I had a vision of Ginny’s now happy, smiling face, which then turned distraught. ‘Do you think she will marry again?’

  Lou leant on the worktop, biting her lip. ‘I don’t know. She’s a grown woman capable of deciding for herself. I would say she would prefer to have a man in her life. It may be a generational thing; we are all used to having men in our lives unlike girls nowadays.’

  ‘Yes, a different world now. Less dependent. Youngsters seem to have financial independence as well as a self-assurance about them that we didn’t have. I’m sure they are still self-conscious though despite appearances. Besides, they are so much more self-aware and used to photographing themselves. They post on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Chat this and that – their life is on social media. They’re informed. Photos and news items are on social media before a newspaper reporter has time to write anything. Such a different world to ours when we were young. Even friends are virtual.’

  I put the last mug in the microwave and mixed the second chocolate, my throat tightening as I contemplated the outcome after my conversation with Ginny. ‘I really couldn’t imagine only having virtual friends. I need my beautiful Flowers.’

  ‘I know, it’s crazy how far technology has leapt. From barely a radio in the home a hundred years ago, we’re almost beaming one another up.’

  ‘Good ol’ Star Trek. Decades ahead,’ I said. ‘All going well, I reckon Ginny and Neil could have virtual dates. They can at least Skype now, can’t they?’

  Lou laughed. ‘Wouldn’t be my idea of a date, if you know what I mean!’

  My face screwed up. ‘Nah! Definitely not. I’ll just run this up to Ang.’

  We heard the sound of a phone beep. ‘That’s probably mine,’ Lou said, waving her hand. ‘Terry said he’d text me when he got home. I’ll ring him back in a bit.’

  Lou and I drained our mugs of chocolate chatting for another hour before she rang Terry. I left her on the phone and hoped that Angie had finished in the bath.

  The stench of nail polish swiped my nostrils as I entered the bedroom. Angie looked up from painting her toenails.

  ‘I wonder how the date’s going?’ she said.

  ‘Good, hopefully.’ I sighed as the anxiety I was trying desperately to contain stirred again. I unclipped my watch, noting the time. It was gone nine. Neil was a gentleman. I figured by the time I’d had a bath, Ginny would be back. We definitely had to talk.

  Ginny

  Ma Maison was a Christmas card. A verandaed log cabin blanketed in thick snow and nestled in snow on an edge overlooking the distant village of Isérables and its glistening lights, surrounded by a magical navy sky twinkling with luminous stars. I could almost touch it, feel its glitter sprinkling on my tongue.

  I’d stopped walking, I realised. ‘It’s stunning, Neil,’ I said, the romance of the vision swelling my heart.

  ‘I thought you’d like it. But it does look exceptionally beautiful tonight,’ Neil said, looking up to the stars. ‘They’ve put on a show for you.’

  ‘Ha ha! Well, I’m impressed,’ I said, stepping forward while leaning on Neil’s arm. Neil had taken my hand the minute we left the chalet, placing it on his arm, and it didn’t feel awkward at all. In fact, I felt honoured he felt so comfortable with me.

  Inside Ma Maison the first thing my eyes set on was the huge burning logs in the fire. I could hear a gentle crackling as it blazed. The maître d’, on seeing us, instantly offered to take our coats and led us over the stone floor to a quiet corner by one of the picture windows. I could see the lights of Isérables in the distance. Small red-checked curtains, tied to the side, framed the view. Like La Poste, the décor was traditional, dark tongue-and-grooved wood flanked the walls with a textured cream surface in between and amber-hued ceramic lamps hung from the ceiling, except our table had a small table lamp that sat on the red-checked cloth.

  The maître d’ pulled out my chair and waited as I positioned myself before burrowing me into my seat opposite Neil. I then wondered how man
y times Neil had brought Cheryl here. They had, as he had said, come out to the village regularly.

  ‘Monsieur Jackson, Madame.’ He handed us a drinks menu.

  ‘Merci,’ Neil said to the maître d’. Then he leaned towards me. ‘Do you know what you would like to drink?’

  ‘Is there something local you would recommend?’

  ‘I personally like the Dôle, which is the Gamay, Pinot Noir blend or Cornalin, quite similar, slightly fruitier maybe.’

  ‘Dôle sounds perfect,’ I said, looking around as Neil ordered. There were two long tables with two families on each. Several tables with three or four dining, a few couples. A pleasant ambience and the staff looked friendly and attentive. I noticed some people melting cheese on a frame, a strange conical hat on top, which the children found amusing.’

  ‘That’s Raclette. The racks don’t normally look like that though. Have you had it before?’

  ‘No. I had the fondue – that was lovely. Rather heavy, all that cheese and bread. We should have had one between five of us, I think.’

  ‘Yes, it gets tiresome with too much. They do a few specialities here, and you don’t have to have cheese. One is the trout, Truite du Vivier, and one is steak, the Tartare coupé au Couteau. They may still be doing the Menu Chasse – hunters’ menu – which is the venison. I can ask.’

  ‘No, I had that, up at, oh …’ I frowned trying to think of the name of the restaurant.

  ‘You mean at Les Fougeres. Sergio’s finest,’ Neil said.

  ‘Yes. That’s the one.’ I laughed. ‘Of course, you were there. But I’d like to try the steak.’

  ‘I should warn you the steak is rare. Best quality but not for everyone.’

  I shrugged. ‘When in Rome …’

  ‘Excellent. I was opting for that too. It is amazing with all the spices. I’m sure you’ll love it.’

  As we put down our menus, a waiter brought our wine and poured us each a glass. I took a sip eager to try.