‘And you too.’
After the girl had gone, crunching through the snow with the treats and big bear, Lexie couldn’t stop smiling. She’d made a new friend. The hotel doors opened and Miss Hannah emerged. Lexie felt quite cheerful. Soon she’d be delivered to a warm room.
To speed up proceedings, she decided to wheel herself over to the taxi to meet her teacher. As she attempted to manoeuvre the wheelchair away from the hedge, there was a clicking noise. The brake had released.
That’s when it happened. The wheelchair skidded on the icy path, spun round and began to pick up speed. Faster and faster it flew. But that wasn’t the terrifying part. No, the really scary thing was that the car park ended in a sheer drop. Beyond it was a ravine from which issued the roar of a rushing river.
‘Help!’ yelled Lexie. ‘Help me!’
Miss Hannah was sprinting like an Olympian in her direction, but not even Usain Bolt could have reached Lexie in time. The wheelchair was going so fast that it took flight on every small bump. Lexie had a sinking feeling that a broken leg would soon be the very least of her troubles.
She closed her eyes as the precipice approached. The wind whipped her face and burned her ears.
Then, like something out of a dream, the wheelchair stopped dead.
Lexie opened her eyes cautiously, unable to believe that she was still alive and not dashed into a million pieces at the bottom of the ravine.
A man was bending over her, his strong, sinewy hands gripping the arms of the wheelchair. He straightened and said sternly: ‘Mademoiselle, I’m afraid the ski jump is closed for the season.’
‘I w-wasn’t—’ Lexie stammered, before it dawned on her that he was joking. ‘Thank you. Omigod, thank you so much. You saved me.’
‘Pas de problème. But in future exercise caution on the steep slopes, young lady. I might not always be around fixing fences.’
Miss Hannah flew up to them, panting. ‘Oh, Lexie, thank goodness you’re safe. I thought we’d lost you. I’ve just aged ten years.’
Lexie felt as if she’d lost a few years herself. She couldn’t stop trembling.
The man grinned. He had the same wide, easy smile and wavy dark hair as Nat. Lexie guessed he was her dad, the groundskeeper.
‘It certainly doesn’t show, madame.’
Miss Hannah became quite flustered. ‘Uh, merci, monsieur. You’re too kind and I am already in your debt. Thank you for rescuing Lexie. I’m Rachel Hannah, the irresponsible teacher who left a girl in a wheelchair on an icy slope.’
He bowed. ‘Enchanté, madame. Luc Chevalier at your service. Do not distress yourself. These things happen to the best of us. Now if you are both quite well, I must return to my work. Au r’voir.’
‘Au r’voir,’ they chorused.
As Miss Hannah wheeled a shaken Lexie up the path, she mimicked: ‘Enchanté. And I look such a fright.’
But Lexie, glancing behind, saw that her cheeks were pink and she was trying to hide a smile.
‘Mrs Woodward wanted to do something special for you to make up for this awful business with your leg, and because you’ll be missing out on skiing and all the other fun,’ Miss Hannah said as she pushed Lexie’s chair along the third-floor corridor. ‘We decided to book you into the best room in the hotel. We had to pull some strings, but we did it. You’re in what they call the “Room with the Mountain View”. There are others, but this one, apparently, is quite sensational.’
She inserted the keycard into the lock of room fifteen. As Lexie entered, the air seemed to shift, breathe and close around her in a hug.
She wheeled herself over to the window and was unable to restrain a squeal of delight. The room itself was exquisite, the four-poster bed a vision of crisp white sheets and a red-and-gold embroidered duvet cover. But it was the view that blew her away. The snow-bedecked mountains seemed so close that Lexie felt she could almost reach out and touch them. And directly below was a frozen lake. The bridge that arched over it was like something out of a fairy tale.
‘I trust this will suit,’ her teacher said with a smile.
Lexie could only nod. She was afraid that if she spoke, the spell would break and she’d be ordered back to the dormitory with the ‘Valley View’ that really looked over the bins.
Miss Hannah helped her onto the bed. ‘I know you’ve had a dreadful start, but I so hope you can relax and enjoy your stay. I’ll check on you whenever I can, though I’m sure you’ll want some young company, too. Which of your friends shall I send to visit you?’
‘None of them,’ Lexie said at once. She didn’t want to admit that she had no friends – not close ones at any rate. Only the children of her parents’ friends who she was made to hang out with on ‘play’ or study ‘dates’. She thought wistfully of Nat, the groundskeeper’s daughter. It was rare for her to instantly feel so at ease with someone. With Lexie confined to her room, it was unlikely that their paths would cross again.
She smiled at her teacher. ‘I have all the company I need in my books. If I get lonely, I’ll let you know.’
Miss Hannah stared at her for a moment. ‘As you wish. I’ll have meals sent up three times a day until you’re feeling well enough to eat in the dining room. If you need more books or anything else, let me know. In the meantime, I hope you’ll be content. You know the rules. Don’t open the door to anyone apart from me, the room-service waitress or the chambermaid. Happy reading!’
It had been a big day and Lexie fell asleep as soon as she slumped against the stack of downy pillows. She was woken at 7p.m. by the room-service waitress. It was dark outside and her leg hurt as she hopped to the door. The girl set the tray on the table by the window. When she lifted the lid on the meal, a divine aroma wafted up. Lexie was starving. The ratatouille and bread rolls were gone in a flash.
It was while she was tucking into a crème caramel that a movement caught her eye. She’d been so busy eating that she hadn’t noticed that the building behind – the hotel’s modern section, where she’d been told that the circus people were staying – was near enough for her to see into the rooms if they were illuminated.
On the second floor, the man with the barn-door shoulders was clearly visible as he lifted weights. The ringmaster ranted into his phone in a larger room on the third floor, And two doors along, Bianca was sitting on her bed with her head in her hands. Earlier, brandishing a whip in her red Stetson and chaps, she’d seemed quite fierce. Now she looked dejected. Perhaps she felt guilty for bursting the young man’s bubbles.
Ricardo Rossi was in a suite with its own living room. Ugh, he really was preening in front of the mirror.
Abruptly, Lexie turned from the window. Looking at people who didn’t know they were being watched made her feel uncomfortable, as if she was spying on them. But then it occurred to her that the situation was not dissimilar to that of Rear Window, one of her mum’s favourite films. It was a Hitchcock thriller about a photographer. Confined to a wheelchair after an accident, he’d become convinced he’d witnessed a murder in the building behind his apartment.
Wouldn’t it be funny if she witnessed a murder from her hotel window? Not for the victim, obviously, but the thought was funny because there was no way it would ever happen.
So Lexie stayed where she was. A light flicked on in another suite. In swept the snow queen, Sofia Fontaine. She sat at the dressing table and put on her make-up. Next came a feverish hunt through the wardrobe for the right outfit. More and more clothes were strewn on the bed. She disappeared into the bathroom and emerged some while later in a long black dress with sparkly bits on it. Lexie was mesmerized. Even from a distance, Sofia was stunning.
She was perched on her bed, filing her nails, when she jumped as if she’d been shot. Someone was at the door. She hesitated before answering it as if reluctant to open it.
Ricardo Rossi entered. There were lots of smiles. Their gleaming dental work was visible even from fifty metres away. Lexie hoped that the circus world’s most perfect couple woul
dn’t start kissing or something ghastly.
Then she noticed something odd. In the room Ricardo had just vacated, a dark shadow was moving around. Before she could decide whether or not it was a thief, something extraordinary happened. Ricardo Rossi dropped down on one knee.
The Italian acrobat was proposing! He had a ring in his hand! Lexie was witnessing a historic celebrity moment!
Ricardo lifted a strand of Sofia’s long golden hair and pressed it to his face lovingly. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. Sofia tugged it from his grasp and flew into a rage. Lexie couldn’t hear what she was saying, but there was no doubt at all that he was getting a roasting.
Ricardo stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Sofia appeared momentarily at the window, a haunted expression on her face. Lexie ducked down. When she risked another glance, the curtains were closed.
There was a lot of toing and froing after that. Ricardo left the building and stormed off into the night. The bubble man appeared in the room of the tiger tattoo woman and was also given some sort of telling-off. Bianca had stopped moping and was practising backflips. Only the muscle man remained serene, bench-pressing ever more weight.
Lexie abandoned her post in order to brush her teeth. When she returned, a man with a woolly hat pulled low over his eyes was leaving the building with a rucksack over his shoulder. Lexie couldn’t tell which of the performers it was. He set off in the opposite direction and was swallowed by the darkness.
The light flickered on in the lounge. The dancers swept in with glasses and bottles and a party started.
Lexie’s eyes were drooping. Picking up her new crutches, she tested them out on the way to the bed. Crawling into the sheets, she fell sound asleep.
The tinkling of stones against her window woke Lexie. She forgot that she had a broken leg and was painfully reminded of it when she tried to spring out of bed. Leaning on a crutch, she hopped to the window. A freezing draught blew in as she opened it.
Eight wolves peered up at her from the snow below. Then she saw Nat and realized that they were not wolves but a team of Siberian huskies harnessed to a sled. Lexie felt a rush of delight at seeing both the dogs and her new friend. Nat wore a head torch. She grinned up at Lexie and said in a stage whisper: ‘Your sleigh awaits, mon amie.’
‘Are you out of your mind? It’s pitch-dark and I have a broken leg. I don’t want a broken neck as well, thank you very much.’
‘It’s more fun than trying to ramp a wheelchair into the ravine. Papa told me about that. I was upset to have missed it.’
‘Okay, I’m going back to bed now,’ said Lexie, wondering if she’d misjudged the girl. ‘You’re barking mad.’
‘I get told that a lot. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Seriously, come for a ride with us. It’ll be an experience you won’t forget. If you can get yourself to the trade lift at the end of your corridor, I’ll meet you at the bottom. Come on. You know you want to.’
To her amazement, Lexie found she did. For some reason a sleigh ride with a broken leg seemed so much more appealing than skiing had done when she was fit and healthy. She pulled on her skiing clothes and managed to manoeuvre herself to the door and down the lift quite easily on the crutches.
When the huskies surged forward to meet her, examining her with their eerily beautiful blue eyes and wet noses, she knew she’d made the right decision. She didn’t care what happened next. She was prepared to follow these other-worldly creatures wherever they led.
For all her teasing Nat was responsible and caring. She helped Lexie onto the sled, strapped her in securely and wrapped her in a sheepskin rug. She also lent her windproof gloves, goggles and earmuffs. By the time she’d finished, Lexie felt ready to tackle Antarctica.
In another minute, they were off. Lexie couldn’t get over how fast the dogs went and how much they relished pulling. They sped past the frozen lake. Nat’s powerful headlamp made crystal sheep of the reflected shrubs and bushes.
Urged on by Nat, the huskies crossed the valley at racing speed and began to climb. Churning snow and mist swirled in clouds around the dogs. Sometimes all that was visible were their ears and tails. Lexie breathed in the minty freshness of the forest. Her normal world – the scrubbed, ordered, conservative world of school and her parents – fell away. For the first time in her life Lexie felt truly alive.
They were close to the top of the mountain when Nat shouted a command. The dogs slowed, breathing steam. They rounded a corner, where the track ended. Nat braked and hopped out to give the dogs treats. They were on the edge of a precipice, but Lexie felt no fear. The ground was solid and there was plenty of room for the dogs and sled. A line of rocks had created a low barrier along the edge.
‘What do you think of my mountain home?’ asked Nat.
Lexie gazed out at the black mountains, their ancient crags outlined against the deep purple sky. The lights of the resort and village sparkled like stars far below. It was all so still and silent. And just when she thought it couldn’t get any more magical, a snowy owl swept by on silver-tipped wings.
‘It’s bliss,’ was all she could say.
They were on their way down at a more sedate pace when Nat spotted tracks. She halted the dogs.
‘Snowmobile,’ she whispered. ‘Did you notice these when we came by earlier? I didn’t. There’s no way that anyone would be here at this time of night unless they were up to no good.’
‘We’re here,’ Lexie pointed out.
‘Yes, but that’s different. We’re just kids having an adventure. Whoever it is can’t be far away. The track ends at a clearing just beyond the trees.’
Adrenaline made Lexie feel bold and daring. ‘Maybe we should take a look.’
Nat was impressed. ‘I’m game if you think you can manage.’ She nodded to Lexie’s crutches. ‘We’ll leave the dogs here in case they start growling.’
They stole through the forest. Lexie, struggling on her crutches, was already getting cold feet in more ways than one, but she refused to admit it. Very soon they came across the snowmobile.
‘It’s a hire one from the resort,’ said Nat. ‘There are only three and they’ve all been rented by the circus people this week.’
‘The circus people? What would they be doing up here in the dead of night?’
‘Who knows. Burying a body?’
Lexie was horrified. She was starting to wish that she’d never left her hotel room. The forest seemed alive with spooky noises. She’d heard that wolves and bears were once more roaming the Alps. What if they decided to attack? Nat could run but Lexie couldn’t. They hardly knew each other. Who was to say that Nat wouldn’t abandon her if disaster struck? Sharp twigs scratched at Lexie’s face like claws and she bit back a scream.
Sensing her fear, Nat gripped her hand. ‘Don’t worry, Lexie, I’ll take care of you. I know these mountains better than I know my own backyard. Hey, did you hear that? Someone’s moving just ahead. Let’s get nearer. Lean on me if you need to. We have to be as quiet as owls.’
There was a slithering noise. Screened by snowy pine branches, they hardly dared breathe. In the yellow glow of a torch, a dark figure was dragging a large holdall across the snow.
‘Told you,’ Nat whispered. ‘A body.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ snapped Lexie, but only because it was a human-sized bag and she was trying to convince herself that children out for a sleigh ride didn’t usually happen across actual murderers. ‘It’ll only be a corpse if he or she takes out a spade and starts digging a grave.’
‘I think he’s already dug one.’
As Nat spoke, the man – or extremely strong woman – hauled the bag to the edge of a hole and tipped it in. It landed with a sickening crunch. He picked up a spade. It clinked against the rocks as he shovelled in snow and dirt.
Nat’s chilled-out, wise-girl-of-the-mountains air was gone in an instant. The moonlight caught her face and she looked as terrified as Lexie felt. ‘We’d better get out of here. I’m not hanging a
bout if there’s a psychopath on the loose.’
She grabbed Lexie’s hand and practically dragged her through the forest. Lexie battled to stay upright, her crutches skidding and slipping.
‘We don’t know for sure that it is a body. It could be . . . buried treasure.’
‘Yeah, right,’ said Nat. ‘And I’m Father Christmas. Imagine the scandal if a circus star has killed a rival in cold blood.’ She shuddered. ‘Hurry. We have to get away.’
When they reached the sled, Nat bundled Lexie in. She snatched up the reins.
‘Hike!’ she ordered the huskies. ‘Hike!’ And the dogs lunged forward.
Next morning the room phone rang as Lexie was working through a late breakfast of crêpes and strawberries. In the cold light of day, the events of the previous night seemed utterly surreal. If it wasn’t for the tiny scratch on her cheek and a couple of muddy leaves on the floor, she’d have wondered if she’d dreamed the whole thing.
In the block opposite, Sofia’s curtains were still closed. Ricardo’s were open but his room was empty, the bed neatly made. The muscle man was doing bicep curls and watching cartoons. The bubble man was practising his bubble blowing. Neither of them looked as if they were axe murderers in their spare time.
Lexie swallowed a bite of crêpe and picked up the hotel phone. Nat was on the line, breathy with excitement. ‘Are you sitting down? Breaking news. Sofia Fontaine has vanished. Foul play not ruled out.’
‘But where are the police?’ asked Lexie. She hopped over to the window again, nearly pulling the phone out of its socket as she strained to see the car park. ‘There are none at the hotel. None that I can see anyway.’
‘They’re on their way. They want to question the other performers. Papa heard it from a friend who conducts investigations for the local police judiciare. They’re like your Scotland Yard in London, only smaller. Sofia was reported missing first thing this morning when she failed to show up for a rehearsal in the town square. Maybe you should tell them what you saw – about the argument with Ricardo. But wait till I come to your room. Let’s discuss our own investigat—’
Winter Magic Page 18