by Adele Parks
‘Scaley Jase, do you think we ought to have gone to the airport to see Ms Monopoly and Big Ted off?’ Mia asked.
After her initial reluctance to comfort her friend, which was little more than shyness in the face of adversity – something Mia would never admit – Mia had popped by Ms Monopoly’s room. But Barbie Babe was in there, being all tea and sympathy. Mia had thought this was an imposition. It wasn’t as though Barbie Babe and Ms Monopoly were particular friends. Mia believed that two is company and three is a crowd, and decided that she’d leave them to it. She told herself that her friendship with Kate was so long-standing that she could call later, to see how things were after they’d talked to the children. Mia didn’t need to rush around and apply emergency aid. She convinced herself that this decision was nothing to do with the fact that Scaley Jase was heading off to the slopes and she was pushed for time if she wanted to join him.
‘See them off at the airport? Hardly,’ he looked at her with incredulity. ‘It’s not exactly a bon voyage moment, is it?’
‘No, I suppose not.’
Mia and Jason were sharing a chairlift heading up to the top of the fairly challenging Les Gets runs. Jason had wanted to see the Les Gets, Portes du Soleil, since he arrived, and asked Mia if she would join him. After hearing about Kate and Ted’s bad luck they both had an unexplained need to be with each other, though neither was prepared to say as much. Jase suggested that they spent the day skiing together, alone.
‘You’re sure you are happy skiing, rather than boarding?’ he asked.
‘I am so bruised that I resemble one of those inkspot charts that psychologists use to analyse their patients’ moods,’ confessed Mia, laughing. ‘I don’t think it’s my sport.’
‘And if I saw you naked, what would your inkspot chart of a body reveal?’
‘Just that you were horny. Situation normal.’ Mia batted off the suggestive comment, without noticing it. She took a deep breath and owned up, ‘I’ve been disappointed with my ability to snowboard. I was expecting to sweep up and whizz down. I’m used to my legs operating independently, but at least cooperating with one another. But when they are stuck together, like glue, and the board seems to have an entirely different agenda to mine, well, let’s just say I didn’t shine. I am happy to get back on to my skis.’
Jason shook his head. ‘You are too harsh on yourself. You were making good progress on the board. You can’t expect to go from rookie to expert in a couple of days,’ he said sympathetically.
‘You did,’ argued Mia.
‘Yes, but that’s different. I am a superstar.’
Mia laughed at his arrogance, partly because she agreed with him.
She hadn’t exactly apologized for her behaviour the previous evening, but Jason chose to interpret her good mood as a form of apology, and he accepted it with good grace. He was enjoying learning to board, but he put on skis today, for Mia.
Jason hadn’t exactly apologized for his behaviour the previous evening, but Mia chose to interpret his offer to ski as a form of apology, and she accepted it with pleasantries and polish. She knew he put on skis today, for her.
‘Did you have a good night?’
Mia wished she hadn’t asked the moment she heard her own sentence. Indeed, all morning, she had been telling herself she wouldn’t ask anything of the sort. She was no longer intent on getting Scaley’s sperm, so what did she care what he got up to or whom he got up. So how had the question slipped out? It infuriated her that, while she could bend most other people’s wills, she could not, it seemed, control her own. She asked the question without looking at Scaley Jase, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the snow-dusted evergreen trees below her.
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Jason, coolly.
He wasn’t telling the truth. Yes, the pretty plump poppet had happily accompanied him back to his room and, yes, she had been very keen to strip off and slip between his sheets. Like the Jason of old, Kiki clearly thought that holiday screws were part and parcel of the vacation – a bonus, so to speak, like duty-free shopping. However, Jason was stunned to discover that he could not summon the necessary enthusiasm. His penis was more of a sponge finger than the magnificent pole he was used to waving.
Jason racked his mind for an explanation and excuse. Kiki obligingly licked and massaged; she even did a bit of DIY on herself, and watching a girl masturbate had never failed to get him in the mood in the past. Kiki was quite drunk and after putting, if not her heart and soul, then at least her lips, spit and elbow grease into the job in hand, she had become disinterested. She’d raided the mini-bar for as much chocolate as she could find, and then she’d fallen asleep.
It was humiliating. Being replaced by a large bar of Nestlé’s Crunch was humiliating.
It wasn’t even that he was more interested in the Dutch girl who had been an option. He wanted to believe that it was the drink, but he knew he hadn’t drunk that much. The problem was every time he kissed Kiki’s juicy, willing lips he thought of Mia’s broad smile and deep-red lips. Mia’s lips were full, like Kiki’s, but somehow Mia’s lips were more sophisticated, sexier and more splendid.
There had to be some fucking mistake.
Mia was a nag, a bitch, a whinge. She was not sexy, sophisticated and splendid. She had been. Yes, OK, he’d admit it. He had been the most envied undergraduate in all of the university because he was the only one who was ever able to describe himself as her boyfriend. Admittedly, seemingly scores of men could describe themselves as her lover, but only he knew how she liked her tea and toast.
But that was all a long time ago. That was before she finished with him. Oh, yes, Mia had finished the relationship. Switched it off. Snuffed it out.
The official line was that they mutually agreed that they were too young to settle down and that they both needed time to see what else was out there. Only Jason knew that what really happened was that, as soon as Mia started mooting ideas about it being ‘a big world’ and needing ‘a bit of space’, he had seen the writing on the wall. Instead of telling her that he didn’t want to chase skirt and that he only wanted to see the world if she was by his side and seeing the same sights, Jason had rushed to disassociate himself from their relationship. He didn’t tell her that he loved her and believed she was his One. On the contrary, he told her that he quite fancied the little blonde fresher girl that she was mentoring at the time, and he asked if she’d put a word in for him.
A man had his pride.
The path Jason had chosen was cool. He had a great life. He loved his job. He believed working in advertising was the ideal career opportunity for all Peter Pans – he was ridiculously well paid for not growing up. Unfettered by a wife or kids, with demands for country houses and fees for posh schools, he was free to squander his money on cars, a penthouse flat, champagne and the other things that attracted the constant stream of young, nubile and willing ladies – all of whom he considered to be little more than a perk of the job.
It wasn’t as if he lay in bed thinking about Mia every night for the past thirteen years. He’d never done that.
Not until last night.
He didn’t know what circuit in his brain had been tweaked to make him suddenly think of her in a different way. It could have been that he’d discovered Rich hadn’t been honest with him about his relationship with Jayne in the first place. That had stung – he thought they told each other everything. He’d believed that Rich was the one person in the world he could rely on, but, no, he wasn’t. Which meant Jason didn’t have one person in the world he could rely on. Or it might have been because, despite the most extraordinary array of women that had trailed in and out of his bedroom since he and Mia split, their exoticism only seemed to expose how alike they all were to him.
The problem was that when Jason told Mia he remembered she didn’t swallow, the intimacy of the moment sent a searing sensation up and down his body. A bolt of curiosity, sensuality and affection set him alight. It was quite unlike anything he had experienced in yea
rs, despite all the tiny, frilly Agent Provocateur knickers he’d edged down silky thighs. He had suddenly, and with great clarity, remembered that she kept a box of tissues by her bed. He remembered how she turned her head. The way she discreetly emitted his sperm was somehow very endearing. Her particular brand of prudery ought, logically, to have been a turn-off, but it never had been. Love was odd like that.
At that moment Jason had known that all he wanted to do was kiss Mia. Kiss her so hard that she finally stopped moaning in a bad way and started to moan in a good way. Kiss her so hard that she started smiling again. Of course, Mia hadn’t given him a chance to act on that crazy impulse. In a split second she’d picked up her jacket and stormed off in a huff.
As usual.
Why would he be thinking about her unwilling, unsmiling lips when he had Kiki’s willing, smiling ones, ready and waiting? He didn’t know. Jason looked at Mia in case the answer to his question was written on her forehead. She grinned at him. A wide, genuine, warm smile. He tutted. Bloody hell. The last thing he needed right now was for her to start being amenable.
‘So, you scored?’ asked Mia.
She hated herself for needing to know this, but she did need to know, for reasons she wasn’t prepared to analyse.
‘I had a fantastic night, thank you,’ said Jason, without telling a direct lie.
Because he had had a fantastic night laughing and chatting with Mia. It had been pure comedy looking through those old photos that she’d brought along and a right giggle arsing around on the dance floor. A fantastic night – until Mia had got the huff.
They jumped off the chairlift with grace and ease, righted themselves, adjusted their goggles and turned to scope out the slopes. They had chosen a fairly inaccessible run, away from the vast majority of skiers. Most of the snow in their view was virgin.
‘Wow, however often I see clean, uncut snow, it never ceases to take my breath away,’ smiled Mia.
Jason took a deep breath. ‘And nothing on earth smells as clear as mountain air. No wonder Unilever and Proctor and Gamble spend a not-so-small fortune on trying to recapture and re-create that smell in washing powder and disinfectants. God, even I would be moved to do some housework if they ever really successfully managed it.’
‘No, you wouldn’t,’ laughed Mia.
‘No, maybe not, but I’d definitely get a cleaner.’
They laughed, high on the view, the snow and each other’s company.
‘Are you happy, Scaley?’ Mia blurted.
Jason blushed. He hated the way women asked questions about how he was feeling, particularly because these types of questions were always asked at inopportune moments.
Women often asked him how happy he was when he was at a movie. Wasn’t that odd? He knew the subtext, of course. ‘Are you happy?’ was girl-speak for ‘Do I make you happy and when are you going to propose?’ Not that he thought that was Mia’s subtext. No, this ice queen was not the type to look for love – when she opened her legs, she dispensed ice cubes. But other girls, ordinary girls, would ask him how he was feeling as he watched the latest romantic comedy from Richard Curtis. It was insane. No amount of cinematic confetti made him feel like proposing. Why would it? His answer would always be that he felt like buying a hot dog or some popcorn. If a woman were to ask how he was feeling as he watched a DVD of any of the Star Wars or Lord of the Rings movies, he would have been able to answer that he was ecstatic, really excited, but they never asked you how you were feeling then.
They would nearly always ask after sex – that was one of the all-time favourites. Well, the answer was obvious, wasn’t it? Knackered.
Jason didn’t understand why women wanted to talk about their feelings all the time. What did it prove? What did achieve?
Jason shifted on his skis. He wasn’t expecting the ‘feeling’ question from Mia. Mia was normally too rational to feel much, and too selfish to care if other people were feeling anything at all. To be honest, he quite liked that about her. Jason didn’t like Mia wandering into the feeling territory, it wouldn’t do at all. He tried to think of an answer which was as bland and noncommittal as possible.
‘Yeah, I’m happy, I’m cool. I’m having a fantastic time. I’m here with all my mates. I’m scoring with almost indecent regularity.’
Mia interrupted him, ‘I was just thinking about Kate and Big Ted.’
Chastised Jason stuttered, ‘Of course, of course.’
Of course Mia wasn’t suddenly going to turn into one of those girls who went on about romantic stuff, emotions and feelings in an ungrounded, unfounded way. She’d asked him if he was happy because she was worried about her mates.
‘Kate knew there was something wrong. Do you remember she asked us if we’d noticed anything different about Big Ted, and you know what? This makes me feel so ashamed, I hadn’t. I don’t notice Big Ted much at all. If pushed, I might have said he was a little more irritating than normal –’
‘Yeah, you said that to me –’
‘All right,’ Mia guiltily cut off Jason.
She would have preferred it if he didn’t remember her foibles quite as well as he so clearly did. She’d prefer it if raking over her shortcomings was her sole territory and, even then, she wasn’t one for feeling unnecessarily guilty about her actions.
‘We’re supposed to be best friends, and we didn’t have a clue how much trouble he was in. He couldn’t tell us. It scares me that we don’t really know what’s going on in one another’s lives.’
‘Don’t be too hard on yourself. His own wife didn’t notice anything was amiss. Ted’s a very clever man; he worked hard at deceiving us.’
‘And just maybe we wanted to be deceived.’
‘What?’
‘Well, that thing Tash said this morning about a friend in need is a friend indeed.’
‘What are you trying to say, Mia?’
‘Oh, nothing.’ Mia waved her hand dismissively. ‘I’m just saying, well, maybe we should all take a bit more care of one another. So that’s why I asked you if you are happy. I mean, is this holiday turning out as you expected?’
‘I didn’t really have any particular expectations beyond having a few jars, gassing with my mates, catching up.’
‘Pulling some easy totty,’ added Mia sarcastically – she just couldn’t help herself.
‘Exactly. Don’t worry about me, honey. I’m delirious, always am. Now, shouldn’t we just put all this worrying behind us and just try to have a good day skiing? Let’s make the most of this gorgeous snow.’
Mia nodded. She didn’t want to drop the conversation, but she knew he did. She wanted to ask Scaley if he ever got bored with waking up with another face without a name. She tried not to resent that he hadn’t done the polite thing and asked her if she was happy, as she’d half hoped he would. It was perhaps better he hadn’t asked.
She wouldn’t have known what to say.
55. In the Library
Tash found Lloyd in the hotel library, but Rich was nowhere to be seen.
‘Have you seen Rich?’
‘No, I’m afraid I haven’t.’
Tash sighed, frustrated. She wanted to find Rich, to kiss him. She wanted to reassure him that their silly spat the night before was pointless and groundless. She wanted to tell him she loved him, and that was all that mattered.
‘Not skiing today?’ she asked Lloyd, who was dressed in warm casuals, but not in a salapex.
‘Maybe later.’
They both looked out the window. It was another beautiful day. They’d been so lucky with the weather. It had snowed just about every night, but been clear all day. The sky was cloudless. The mountains, slapped on to the backdrop of pure blue, looked magnificent, powerful and important. In comparison the library looked almost gloomy, whereas in fact it was an almost impossible mix of stylish and cosy.
‘Are you thinking about Kate and Ted?’ Tash asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Poor things.’
‘Lucky basta
rds.’
‘What?’ Tash didn’t understand.
‘Oh yes, the money thing, very disappointing. It’s a mess, I agree, but I can’t help thinking that they are lucky bastards.’
‘You mean because they are pulling together?’
‘Quite.’
Tash nodded. The same thought had crossed her mind that day. She had been amazed at Kate’s capacity to forgive, almost instantly. Her love had immediately transformed Ted from a grieving, self-loathing wreck into a man with purpose, with hope. Ted was remarkable, too. This awful event had occurred because he was trying to do a good deed, but had he railed against the injustice of it all? No, he had not. His only concern was his family. His only care was how he’d let his wife down. He hadn’t become in the least hung up with misplaced macho pride or stifled by a sense of life’s unfairness. All they needed was one another. They completed each other. Made one another whole. It was exquisite.
‘Their love for one another seemed to be fortified, not diminished, by the episode, wouldn’t you agree?’ asked Lloyd. Tash thought of Kate’s calm courage and Ted’s renewed hope, and nodded. ‘I know it’s more drama than you’d ideally hope for on the run-up to your wedding, but they are a fine example for marriage, aren’t they? They’ve made their mistakes, but they’ve forgiven one another. They’ve got through it. It makes you think, doesn’t it?’ Tash nodded again. Lloyd continued, ‘I envy you, too, you and Rich, at the beginning of your journey, starting out fresh, hopeful, optimistic, expectant. It’s a lovely place to be.’
It was obvious to Tash that Lloyd was not so much talking about what she had, more about what he had lost. She tried to rally.
‘You’re in the same position. You and Greta are just starting out.’
Lloyd sighed, and shook his head a fraction. ‘It’s a little different second time around. It’s not the same. I wish it was. I have lost my belief in for ever. I would do anything to find that again.’
Tash’s head ached with the intensity of his confession. She wanted to be with Rich. They needed to be on the mountains together. Where was he?