Christmas in the Snow

by Karen Swan

  ‘Have you locked the doors?’ he mock-whispered to Zhou behind a cupped hand. ‘Fast – lock the doors. I’ll keep them talking. They never must leave.’

  ‘You’re crazy,’ Isobel laughed. ‘Like I’m going anywhere!’

  Oh God, Allegra groaned inwardly. Peas in a pod.

  ‘Damn, she is cute,’ Massi grinned, spinning out the word like it was elasticated. He turned back to Allegra and she paused, her champagne flute frozen in mid-air as he shone the spotlight back on her. ‘Thank God you are here.’

  Allegra’s eyes jumped from Massi to Sam to Zhou and back to Massi again. ‘Why?’

  ‘Terrible company, both of them. He’ – he pointed to Sam with a sneer – ‘has been in foul temper since we arrived, and he’ – he pointed to Zhou – ‘is unpressed about his parents coming back tomorrow night and clipping his wings.’

  Allegra smiled at the way he pronounced ‘clipping’ as ‘cleeping’, but wondered what Sam had to be so miserable about. He was the new golden boy. He’d taken away from her everything she’d ever worked for. Wasn’t that enough for him?

  She tried to imagine his face two days from now, when he realized she’d stolen the deal from under his nose.

  ‘Well, I won’t be depressed tomorrow night at the party,’ Zhou said, sitting back in his armchair as one of the chalet girls came round with a plate of canapés. ‘Oh, Clarice, can you tell Martin we’ll eat on our laps tonight? To keep Isobel company.’

  Allegra’s phone buzzed. She pulled it from her trouser pocket and frowned as she saw Barry’s number. She glanced at Isobel quickly and mouthed his name. ‘Uh, sorry, I have to take this. If you’ll just excuse me . . .’ she murmured, hurrying from the room, Isobel’s eyes on her back all the way.

  ‘Barry?’ she said, hoping she’d get good reception in the hall, but the walls were too thick – his voice warped and broken – and she quickly ran downstairs and out onto the terrace off her bedroom. ‘Hello? . . . Oh, that’s better! Is everything OK?’

  ‘Hello, Legs,’ his voice swam down the line. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. I was just calling in to see how everything’s going out there.’

  She sighed. ‘Well, it was going fine until an hour ago, but Iz has just hurt her knee, so she’s going to be laid up for a couple of days.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes. I don’t think it’s serious, though. She’s certainly in excellent spirits.’ Understatement of the year.

  ‘Oh good. And how about all the meetings?’

  ‘So-so.’

  ‘Oh, that doesn’t sound too encouraging.’

  ‘No, it is. We’re finding out a lot. It’s just that half the time it’s things we’d rather not know.’

  ‘Oh, Allegra.’

  Upstairs, a whoop of laughter erupted, making her look up, and she could just make out Massi’s loping silhouette through the huge windows. ‘We met Mum’s dad today.’

  There was a short silence. ‘But I thought he died,’ he said in a puzzled tone.

  ‘So did we.’

  ‘Oh! So what’s he like, then?’

  ‘Lovely, really. Bloody old, obviously, but sharp as a tack, and he’s successful too. He wanted to know all about Mum and us. We’re seeing him again tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, that’s nice,’ Barry said soothingly. ‘I’m glad it went well.’

  ‘Yes, me too. I was really in two minds about meeting him, but it was the right thing to do.’ She swallowed, feeling nervous about asking the question that was already hanging from her lips. ‘What chance do you think there is of telling Mum about him?’

  There was a small silence. ‘Well, if you’d asked me last week, I’d have said none. The move here really unsettled her, but she’s been sleeping so much better since you put those Christmas decorations in her bedroom.’

  ‘Christmas decorations?’ Allegra echoed, puzzled.

  ‘Yes, you know – the little wooden angel, the Mary with baby Jesus and whatnot.’

  ‘Oh, those! They’re just from an Advent calendar we found in the loft. I thought they might brighten the room up a bit for her.’

  ‘Well, she loves that one of the Mary. She kisses it every night before she goes to sleep.’

  ‘Does she?’ The news thrilled her.

  Barry chuckled. ‘And she keeps saying the angel looks like me. I don’t know whether to be complimented or offended. You should see the cheeks on that thing.’

  Allegra laughed, delighted by the comedy echo. Hadn’t she and Isobel said exactly the same about the one in Isobel’s nativity set?

  ‘Anyway, she says she remembers it from when she was little. It really seems to have struck a chord with her, I have to say. She’s been talking non-stop about her childhood ever since.’

  ‘What kinds of things?’ Allegra felt her heart beating a little faster. ‘Does she remember anything of her life here?’

  ‘Who can say? It’s all a bit of a muddle most of the time, but it’s just snippets, you know. Little details here and there, like when her mam changed her hair from dark to blonde. And she was telling me this morning about a blue dress that had daisies embroidered on the chest and that she was only allowed to wear on Sundays, her favourite apparently. Do you remember when everyone had a Sunday best? Nobody does that any more.’

  But Allegra wasn’t listening. Her mother would have been four when she left Switzerland for the UK, too young to remember details like a Sunday-best dress surely? It must have been a memory from when she was older and living in England. Disappointment banged like a drum in Allegra’s chest.

  ‘Has she said anything that could be related to here?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know, like . . . being in a mountain hut or—’

  Barry chuckled. ‘Why would she have been in a mountain hut?’

  ‘Her family were goat farmers. They owned loads of land in the valley apparently.’

  ‘Oh! She was talking about a goat the other day,’ Barry said excitedly.

  Allegra felt her breath catch. ‘And . . . ?’

  She could hear Barry straining to give her the answers he knew she wanted to hear. ‘It ate her lunch.’

  Allegra smiled, the tension inside her dissolving. There would be no answers here. Her mother had been so young when she’d left, and—

  ‘Oh, I remember she said there was a cuckoo clock she used to sit in front of and watch, waiting for the cuckoo to pop out, and it always made her cry, even though she knew it would be coming out any second.’ He paused. ‘Allegra? Are you there?’

  ‘Yes, I—’ It was hard to speak. She had just realized something. ‘When her mam changed her hair from dark to blonde.’ Valentina’s hair had been raven-black, Anya’s strawberry blonde. The revelation brought tears to her eyes. Julia remembered Valentina. She remembered her mother!

  ‘Oh, wait.’ Barry’s voice became muffled as she heard him talking to her mother in the background. ‘I’ve got to go. Your mam’s wanting her biscuits and I’ve had to hide them. She made me promise – she thinks she’s getting too fat.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Allegra half laughed, sniffing as she wiped her eyes dry. ‘Give her a kiss from us, won’t you?’

  ‘Always. Ta-ta.’

  He hung up and Allegra leaned over the terrace, taking in the night view with a new feeling of levity. These were the moments that sustained her and she felt a new impetus to find out as much as she could about Valentina’s past and why Anya had left.

  A night breeze wrapped around her and she shivered as another bark of laughter erupted from the room upstairs. She glanced up with a wry look. If she’d had any idea when she’d woken up this morning that she’d be spending it staying in the Yong chalet after all . . .

  She wondered briefly if Pierre knew yet. Had Sam alerted him? And if so, would that be what it took for Pierre to make the call she’d been waiting for? Surely it could only be a matter of hours now.

  She stood up and hurried back into the bedroom.

&
nbsp; ‘And how the hell is this supposed to work?’

  Allegra almost screamed from surprise as she saw Sam filling her doorway with chilling stillness. She tried not to show her fright. She tried not to show anything.

  ‘You can always leave if it’s too much for you,’ she replied with a calmness she didn’t feel, but not daring to walk another step.

  ‘Just what are you playing at?’ he demanded, advancing instead. ‘Why are you even out here?’ His eyes were pinned on hers, tension stiffening his jaw.

  ‘You know why – family business,’ she said, going to walk past him, but he caught her arm.

  ‘Bullshit!’ His grip was tight, his frustrations playing plainly over his face. ‘You’re everywhere I turn. You tried to sabotage my career, jacked in your own and yet here you are, still trying to muscle in on the deal. You need to get the hell out of here.’

  ‘Or what?’ He didn’t reply, his threat empty, and she pointedly looked down at his hand on her arm. ‘Are you done?’

  He released her and stepped back, his eyes searching hers for clues to the game she was playing.

  ‘Is all this just about winning?’ he asked after her as she reached the door. ‘Or just about beating me?’

  But she wasn’t about to put him out of his misery. Instead she rounded the corner and ran quickly up the steps, her heart beating pneumatically. Let him wonder. Let him wonder.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Day Seventeen: Red Candle

  Lars was waiting for her in the same chair when she arrived the next morning, and she saw the life ignite in his eyes at the sight of her. She took a seat in the chair beside him, and he clasped her hand in his.

  ‘You are so much the image of your grandmother seeing you fools me into thinking I am a young man again.’

  Allegra smiled delightedly. ‘I’m sorry I’m a bit late. Isobel hurt her leg on the night skiing yesterday, so she’s had me running around like a crazy thing all morning.’

  ‘I hope it is not serious?’

  ‘I don’t think so, no, but I think she’s enjoying being waited on too much to indicate otherwise at the moment.’

  Lars laughed. ‘She has spirit.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Allegra agreed.

  He looked better today. His colour had improved, and the shock of yesterday’s news had clearly settled, leaving only the good parts: his daughter was alive, and her family was here.

  Across the room, the clock sounded the hour and a flurry of whirring cogs made her turn her head just in time to see a cuckoo pop out.

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ she laughed, jumping up to stand closer to it. The doors of the chalet opened and a man and a woman wheeled out, spinning in circles at the front and tipping forwards to kiss before gliding back into the house again, until the next hour. ‘I’ve never seen one of those work before! Do you know, Iz and I found one in the loft at home just the other week? Iz has taken it. She thought Ferdy would love it. She’s sent it off to be repaired.’

  ‘You have a cuckoo clock?’ He leaned forward interestedly in the chair. ‘Can you describe it to me? Maybe I will remember it.’

  Remember it? Allegra looked at him. ‘Was it yours?’ she asked in astonishment.

  ‘Well, it could have been. That one on the wall there is a copy of the one I lost, although I’ve never liked it as much as the original. Giulia would sit in front of it for hours, waiting for the cuckoo to come out, and she always cried when it did. Every time.’ He laughed, shaking his head sadly. ‘In the end, Valentina insisted we stop using it. Such a shame, really.’

  Allegra blinked as she sat beside him again. Had her grandmother stolen that clock too, then? ‘I’m so sorry. We never knew . . .’

  ‘No, no, of course not,’ he smiled, patting her hand. ‘Besides, it’s only a clock. It makes me happy to think it’s with my grandchildren now. That’s how it should be.’

  Allegra nodded.

  ‘Do you have a photograph of my great-grandson? I should love to see him. See whether he has my good looks.’ He chuckled as Allegra looked for a photo on her phone and handed it over. ‘Ah yes, yes. He’s like his mother. I can see that.’ He looked back at her. ‘You and your sister are very close.’

  ‘Yes. Best friends really.’

  ‘And her husband? Does he deserve her?’

  ‘Um . . .’ It was exactly the question he shouldn’t have asked.

  ‘No?’

  ‘It’s not that,’ she said quickly. ‘Lloyd means well enough and he’s very . . . personable.’ She knew she had made it sound like a four-letter word, but she couldn’t help it. ‘I just think he takes her for granted. I mean, you’ve seen her. She’s such a catch and so fun to be around. Lloyd just . . . lies on the sofa and drinks beer when he gets in and grunts like a teenager most of the time.’

  ‘So you think she could have done better,’ Lars smiled.

  ‘No, no,’ Allegra laughed. ‘Well, maybe.’ She shrugged. Lars arched his eyebrows. ‘Probably . . . OK, yes. Yes. She settled.’

  ‘But you’re not going to do that.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘You don’t believe in happy endings?’

  ‘Let’s just say I don’t believe in white knights. I am my white knight.’

  He patted her hand with a smile. ‘You are a modern woman. Your grandmother would have been so proud.’

  She fell still, realizing he meant Valentina, not Anya, but she well remembered the glow in her granny’s eyes when her grades had begun to improve, when she’d got her first-class honours degree, her first job . . . ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘I know it. I listen to you and I watch you, and it’s like you are her, come back to me.’

  ‘Well, we have come back to you.’

  He smiled, just as the nurse came back in with a tray of coffee and pastries. Allegra glanced over at her, but Lars ignored her. He had eyes only for Allegra. ‘Of course, there is still one thing we have yet to discuss.’

  Allegra blinked up at him. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘What are you to call me?’

  ‘Oh.’ Her mouth opened in surprise. ‘We did . . . wonder what would be . . . appropriate.’

  He watched her with eyes that betrayed a still-sharp intellect, seeming to understand her reluctance to move straight into terms of endearment. ‘Of course, I know these things can’t be rushed.’

  She smiled shyly, grateful he understood.

  ‘Although, at eighty-eight years of age, I could be forgiven for asking for a little haste.’

  His eyes twinkled and Allegra couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Quite!’

  ‘You know, the word used by the local children here is “opa”.’

  ‘Opa?’ she repeated, trying it out for size. It didn’t seem . . . intrusive, like ‘grandpa’ or ‘granddad’. Both those words carried a suggestion of familial intimacy to her that couldn’t possibly be expected yet, but by virtue of being foreign, ‘opa’ was just a collection of sounds. No pressure.’ I like that,’ she smiled. ‘Do you mind if I run it past Isobel first?’

  ‘Of course. You can come back tomorrow and tell me her answer.’

  ‘I will,’ she grinned, pleased to have another invitation to visit.

  Picking up her coffee and taking a sip, her eyes flitted around the room with growing curiosity. There were very few old photographs out, most of them taken in the 1970s and 1980s, it seemed, and her eyes came to rest on the cuckoo clock again. ‘You know, I think the clock we found in the loft is very similar to yours. I remember it’s got the same garden at the front, and the detailing on the balconies is almost identical.’

  ‘It is hard for me to recall exactly.’

  ‘You were lucky to find someone who could do a copy for you.’

  Lars shrugged. ‘There is a carpenter in the village who makes them. I think he still does.’

  They lapsed into a small, comfortable silence.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Did
the police contact you when they found Valentina?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But why not?’

  ‘Because I am no longer her next of kin. My remarriage invalidated that status.’

  Allegra frowned to think he’d been treated as an outsider after the discovery of his own wife’s body. ‘But that’s terrible.’

  ‘Oh, I have known worse.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘It is just red tape. Besides, take away the visitors and this is a small town still. The news came back to me as quickly as the police would have done anyway.’

  ‘Father Merete says you haven’t been to church since they found her.’

  His expression changed. ‘No . . .’ His gaze became distant, his voice faraway. ‘Many of the older families in the town remember your grandmother’s disappearance. It was one of the town’s greatest tragedies. She was never forgotten in all those years she was lost and now there is almost an excitement about it all.’ He looked back at her. ‘I am not ready for that. I cannot celebrate that she has been found.’

  Allegra fell quiet in the face of a love that had endured even through sixty years of loss, of never knowing what had happened . . . He still loved her as much now surely as he had as a young man. No wonder Granny had run . . . Who could compete with that?

  ‘Well, she’ll be able to rest in peace, at last,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Yes. Thanks must be given for that.’

  They fell into another silence again, but it was light and easy, a frank familiarity beginning to grow between them. She watched him as he stared in the fire. Opa.

  ‘Why do you think she went up to the hut that night?’

  Lars’s eyes swivelled round slowly to meet hers, as though weighted down by the question, and she could see from the weariness with which he shook his head how many times he had been asked that question before.

  ‘Were you with her the night she disappeared?’

  He nodded. ‘We had eaten and I had gone back out to check on the herd. It had been snowing for two days, and more snow was expected for that night. It was so deep by then that we had rounded the goats into the pens for their safety. When I came back, maybe forty minutes later, she had gone.’ He shrugged. ‘She hadn’t been feeling well and I thought she had gone to bed.’