by Kayte Nunn
Mattie begged Bianca for some holiday leave. ‘Sara can manage on her own, I know she can,’ she said, knowing that her deputy would jump at the chance, but crossing her fingers that she wouldn’t do the job too well. Bianca agreed, albeit reluctantly. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve worked your arse off since you’ve been with us,’ she said. ‘Just get the DeVere shoot done before you go. And make sure you come back in one piece.’
CHAPTER FOUR
The crisp alpine air took everyone’s breath away. As the train arrived in Zermatt, Mattie gazed at the view in awe, craning her head to take in the snowcapped peaks towering above her. Dusk was falling and the lights of the village twinkled a welcome as they unloaded their bags. The resort was exactly as she had pictured it, dotted with traditional, sloping-roofed chalets, their lit-up windows glowing golden against the dark sky. She looked at the night sky, indigo now, and pinpricked with millions of stars. The last time she’d seen this many was on a midsummer night in the vineyards. London skies were never dark enough for good stargazing. ‘Full moon,’ she pointed out, thrilled to see the translucent disc alongside the looming triangular peak of the Matterhorn.
‘Ahroohoo,’ Nick howled. ‘I used to be a werewolf, but I’m alright noooow.’
Johnny groaned. ‘Not the werewolf joke again, mate. Give it a rest.’
Nick looked briefly crestfallen but Mattie noticed him perk up as he looked at Cara. Her friend was wearing black stretch pants that clung to every inch of her, topped by a metallic jacket with a fur-lined hood. A beanie was pulled over her platinum hair, and her makeup was as perfectly applied as when they’d left the airport earlier that day. Her eyes sparkled with the same anticipation as Mattie’s.
Their hotel only increased their levels of excitement, if that were possible. The large square building had wide, intricately carved wooden balconies along the front and the roof was blanketed by a thick crust of icing-sugar snow, like a Christmas gingerbread house. Inside, it was just as charming, with timber-panelled walls, the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchens, and in the sitting area a roaring fire and huge sofas that looked like you’d sink into them as effortlessly as a bank of snow.
‘This is going to be fifteen different kinds of awesome,’ said Mattie, lounging on one of the sofas. She felt better than she had in weeks, the stress of work left far behind.
‘Too right, mate,’ agreed Cara. ‘Just you wait till we get on the slopes tomorrow!’
Once they reached their room, Mattie bounced on the quilted bed.
‘Everything to madam’s liking?’ Johnny enquired, mock-seriously.
‘Oh, you bet. Just one thing missing.’
Johnny gave her a look of sudden concern. ‘What’s that, Mats?’
‘You, you goose. I’m waiting for you to join me, right here,’ she replied, patting the bed and then stretching her arms wide to invite him in.
They woke early the next morning and headed down to breakfast. Cara and Nick were already tucking in to muesli and soft rolls spread thickly with butter and raspberry jam. There were cups of coffee frothy with milk and sprinkled with bitter chocolate curls, and in one corner a tall-hatted, starched chef was deftly flipping omelettes to order. ‘Good morning, chaps,’ said Nick, looking up from his iPad. ‘Looks like an absolutely smashing day for it.’
Mattie caught Cara’s eye. ‘Yes, super,’ she agreed, keeping a straight face with some effort. Nick was the quintessential Englishman, more so than Johnny even, and it never failed to amuse her. ‘Do you want eggs, Johnny?’
‘Sure. I’ll need plenty of fuel if I’m to keep up with you on the slopes today,’ he teased.
‘As if! Somehow I reckon I’ll be the one trying to catch up.’ Mattie had learned to ski on boarding school trips in Australia, but the slopes of Perisher and Thredbo looked like bunny runs compared to the steeps she’d spied from the balcony of their room earlier that morning. ‘I didn’t even know they got snow in Australia,’ Johnny had said incredulously when they first talked about going skiing.
‘Too right they do, mate,’ she’d assured him.
Johnny, who by all accounts had been popped on a pair of skis as soon as he could stand, had regaled her with his stories of visiting European resorts every winter with his parents, admitting that he had also heli-skied in the Rocky Mountains. Mattie reassured herself that at least the snow looked nice and fluffy. If she was going to stack it, she’d be certain of a soft landing.
‘How about you, Cara?’
Cara nodded, the pompoms at her neck bobbing merrily. She was kitted out in head-to-toe current-season Chanel skiwear, gold embroidered double Cs emblazoned on the sleeve of her black one-piece.
‘You certainly look the part,’ said Mattie, not caring at all that she was dressed in far more pedestrian navy ski pants and a tomato-red parka.
‘Thanks, mate,’ Cara winked. ‘Stylin’ it, huh?’
Once the four of them had been fitted with boots, skis and boards, they clomped the few short steps to the gondola, breathing in the crisp, clear mountain air and looking about excitedly at the other skiers and boarders swarming around them. Mattie’s heart beat faster, and she knew it wasn’t merely from the altitude. She smiled at Johnny.
‘Don’t you look like the fox that got into the chicken coop,’ he said, grinning back at her.
‘I still can’t believe we’ve got ten whole days of this. Nine more nights,’ she said with a wink. New silk underwear – the only clothing she did love to splurge on – had gone down a treat the night before. ‘What could be more perfect?’
‘Come on then, let’s go and you can show me what you’re made of,’ he challenged.
‘Tough stuff, and don’t you know it,’ she replied bravely.
‘Oh really? Let me sample that tough stuff now, shall I?’ he said as he tilted her lips up to his for a kiss. His mouth was warm on hers, a delicious contrast to the chilly air. ‘Nope, not tough at all,’ he said, releasing her. ‘Marshmallow through and through.’
They spent the morning together on the Matterhorn Glacier Paradise. To Mattie it certainly felt like heaven on earth as she swept down the wide pistes, whooping with the fun of it all. It was bliss to forget all about deadlines and demanding clients, and grey, rainy, grubby London. Her ski legs had quickly come back to her, though she wasn’t a patch on Johnny in terms of skill or style.
‘Did you know you can see Switzerland, France and Italy from up here? It’s one of the highest points on the continent,’ he said as they stopped to admire the view from the top. The thin air was making Mattie feel light-headed, but she brushed it off, concentrating instead on how deliciously pleasurable the feeling of her skis gliding smoothly over the snow had been as she’d swooped downhill behind her friends.
‘Three countries,’ she breathed. ‘Amazing.’
Johnny hadn’t lied when he said he was an expert skier, whizzing down the slopes at breakneck speed, and Nick, Cara and Mattie did their best to keep up with him. He graciously waited for them at the bottom of each run. ‘Don’t know about you lot, but I could do with some rations,’ he said as they stood in the lift line just before noon.
Cara and Mattie nodded in agreement. ‘I know just the place’ said Cara, who’d done her research before leaving London. ‘It’s supposed to be awesome.’
‘Awesome works for me. Lead on, Cara,’ said Johnny.
They tramped into a tiny wooden chalet, which was packed with Gore-Tex-clad skiers. ‘Seems like we’re not the only ones with the same idea,’ said Nick, looking around the room. They found a spot by the fire, squeezed in and began the process of peeling off their layers. ‘Ugh, if there’s one thing not to like about skiing, it’s hat hair,’ said Cara, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her platinum-blonde mane. Mattie ran her fingers through her spiky crop. She was having far too much fun to worry about how she looked.
The mountain restaurant was soothingly warm, with heat radiating off the log fire that spat and cra
ckled next to them, and it wasn’t long until their cheeks were glowing as they toasted their first morning’s adventures with great flagons of ice-cold beer.
‘Who’s up for some off-piste skiing this afternoon?’ asked Johnny.
‘Rather,’ said Nick enthusiastically.
Mattie was doubtful. ‘Are you sure it’s safe?’
‘We’ll be fine. It’s as good as it gets out there, plenty of sweet powder stashes still to be had,’ Johnny reassured her.
The waitress arrived with their lunch and Mattie didn’t have time to worry about it any further. ‘Raclette,’ the waitress said with a flourish as she unloaded her tray, placing an enormous bowl of molten cheese in the centre of their table, together with a basket of bread, a dish of boiled potatoes and some pickled gherkins and onions. Mattie sighed contentedly; one thing was certain, skiing certainly made a girl hungry.
They demolished their food in no time, and lingered over the last of their drinks until Johnny gathered his gloves and helmet. ‘Come on then, chaps. There’s a whole mountain of snow waiting for us out there.’ Stuffed and a little sleepy from the rich, cheesy lunch, Mattie lumbered outside, Cara and Nick following her. ‘Right, everyone ready?’ asked Johnny as they clicked their boots back into their bindings, fastened helmets, adjusted goggles and looped their poles over their wrists. Cara and Nick nodded at him.
The cold mountain air had revived Mattie. ‘You bet,’ she replied.
‘Let’s go then!’
Mattie followed her boyfriend onto the piste. He led them up to the highest point of the resort, onto the glacier. Mattie felt her stomach plunge into her boots as she contemplated the sheer drop off the side. Grey rock and loose scree poked out from beneath the snow at intervals. Were they really going down there? She gasped, as much from nerves as from the high altitude. They were all a little breathless.
‘Not scared, are you?’ asked Johnny.
Mattie gulped but shook her head. If he thought it was okay, she trusted him.
‘I know you’re perfectly capable. I wouldn’t have brought you up here if I didn’t think you were up for it.’
Mattie wasn’t a coward, far from it, but she didn’t want Johnny to see that she was just a tiny bit freaked out by the steepness of the slope. Fearless. That had been her nickname once. Was it one she still deserved? She looked from Cara to Nick, neither of whom seemed to share her concern. ‘No, no, I’m fine, really.’
‘You sure?’ Cara asked, noticing her expression. ‘We don’t have to go this way if you don’t want to, you know.’
‘I can do it if you guys can,’ she said, more confidently than she felt.
Nick set off first, ducking under the rope that marked the ski area boundary, followed by Cara, then Mattie, and Johnny brought up the rear. Within seconds they had left all of the other skiers on the mountain behind, and a vast open face of untracked powder snow lay in front of them. It was eerily quiet, with only the low whistle of the wind sounding in their ears.
Mattie came to a halt after a few turns and took in the spectacular scene. ‘It’s amazing.’ She’d forgotten her earlier trepidation and now they were further down the slope her stomach had caught up with the rest of her body.
‘Isn’t it? I knew you’d love it,’ said Johnny, a wide grin showing between his goggles and scarf.
They each took a separate line down the slope, whooping and hollering with joy as their skis carved into the soft, fluffy powder. Reaching the bottom, Mattie found that her thighs were trembling and she was completely out of breath. She wasn’t nearly as fit as she once had been. Many years ago she’d been strong from riding horses all day, but working long hours in a city office and never having time to get to the gym had put paid to that.
‘Super-de-dooper!’ said Nick, coming to a stop behind her and looking up at their S-shaped tracks in the snow.
Mattie bubbled over with laughter at Nick’s choice of words and relief that she’d made it down the steep slope. ‘That was amazing,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing like that back home, is there, Cara?’
Cara shook her head. ‘Un-fucking-real,’ she said with a feverish light in her eyes. ‘Can we do it again?’
‘You betcha,’ said Johnny.
This time no one was hesitant about heading back up the mountain.
On their third run of the afternoon they took a slightly different line, traversing the face of the snowfield to reach more untracked powder. Johnny took the lead, followed by Mattie. Nick and Cara had stopped at the top while Cara adjusted the bindings on her skis.
It only took a split second.
Out of nowhere, Mattie felt a huge gust of icy wind and heard a loud crack and then rumble like thunder. She stopped in her tracks and looked behind her. Blinked. She almost couldn’t believe her eyes. A vast slab of snow was moving down the mountain above her. She barely had time to register the danger when the snow was upon her, engulfing her. She was swept off her feet, one pole ripped out of her hand and she fell, tumbling down the steep slope. It was like being in a huge washing machine. Her skis had snapped off and she was being tossed around like a rag doll. Her brain registered the word avalanche. She tried to scream, but her mouth was immediately filled with snow. A roaring sound filled her ears. Everything was happening so fast but it felt like slow motion. She flailed on the surface of the moving snowpack, swimming with her arms to try to stay on top of it. She knew that if she got buried too deep she’d never be found. Years earlier, a schoolfriend’s brother had been caught in an avalanche when he was ski-touring in the Snowies. They hadn’t reached him in time. Remembering this now, a sob rose up from Mattie’s chest. Scenes from her childhood flashed across her brain. Her mother hanging out the laundry on a windy day; the sun burning bright on her eyelids as she lay back on the grass listening to her heartbeat; playing hide-and-seek in the winery, her brother jumping out from behind a barrel, sending her shrieking out into the yard; galloping along the ridgeline of the Shingle Hills with Charlie Drummond hard on her heels …
All of a sudden she slammed to a stop, coughing violently from the snow that had forced its way down her throat and up her nose. She felt a moment of sweet relief that the uncontrollable tumbling had stopped. Then she realised that she was completely buried.
She had no idea which way was up. She’d fallen with her hands thrown out and there was a small space in front of her face, a pocket of air. One of her poles was still strapped to her hand; she could feel it pressing into her wrist at an awkward angle. Was it pointing up? Or down? Mattie had no idea. She had stopped coughing, thank God, and desperately tried to slow her breathing. She knew she mustn’t, absolutely mustn’t panic. She had to do her best to conserve the little air she had and so she made herself take small, shallow breaths. She tried moving but all she could do was wiggle her fingers and toes. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t move her body, not an inch. The snow had been so light as she was sliding and tumbling, but it was now set like concrete. Desperate, she clawed her fingers, trying to scrape at the hard-packed snow, trying to make a bigger airhole, but it was hopeless. Realising she was getting nowhere and using up precious oxygen, she stopped. Blood thudded against her temples. She could taste metal. Astonishingly, she couldn’t feel any pain, and felt remarkably clear-headed, though she could tell from the way her arm was bent that something wasn’t right with it. She could also feel warm dampness creeping along the inside of her ski pants. She had to do something. But what?
It took every ounce of strength she had to stop herself from spiralling into hysteria.
Johnny? she asked herself instead. She’d seen him below her and slightly to her left seconds before the avalanche hit. She had no way of knowing if he’d been caught up in it, but didn’t see how he could have escaped.
It was eerily quiet. It felt as if she’d been stuck there for hours, but it could only have been minutes. Then, suddenly, she thought she could hear noises, muffled by the snow weighing on her. Or was she just imagining it? None of them had been
wearing avalanche beacons. She didn’t know if anyone would be able to find her. She did know that she had very little time. Mattie did the only thing she could think of. She began to pray.
Then everything went black.
CHAPTER FIVE
Mattie opened her eyes. The light was blindingly, searingly white and she winced, snapping them shut again. She tried to move her arms and legs but they didn’t seem to be working. Where the hell was she? Concentrating really hard, she tried to lift her head up. Bad idea, she thought, as a searing pain knifed through her whole body.
She heard a strange voice say something in a language she didn’t understand. Footsteps echoed on a hard floor. Mattie opened her eyes again. The light was so bright it made her eyes ache. She couldn’t bear to keep them open for long.
‘Bloody hell, Mattie, you gave us a fright. How are you doing?’
Cara. Now that was a voice she recognised. She tried to move her lips but no more than a dry moan came out.
‘It’s okay. Don’t try to speak. You’ve got plenty of time to recover.’
Why did she need to recover? What from? A memory hurled itself back to her. The slide of snow, the tumbling, falling down and down, and then finally stopping, surrounded by darkness. Being unable to move. Was she still buried in the snow? She wasn’t cold. ‘Www …’ She blew the sound.
‘It’s all right, babe. You had a fall. We were skiing. Switzerland. Do you remember any of it? Blink if you do.’
Mattie fluttered her eyelids.
‘We were above you and saw it all happen. There was nothing we could do to warn you, it happened so fast. The ski patrol was right behind us, thank God. Your pole was sticking up out of the snow, but you were completely buried. They were able to dig you out after only a few minutes. Any longer, and …’ She swallowed. ‘Oh Mats, I was so scared. If they hadn’t found your pole … But you’re going to be okay, you’re alive.’ Mattie could hear the barely suppressed emotion in her usually unflappable friend’s voice. She remembered now. She’d been so frightened. But where was she?