Mandy and Martin were the first to head off to bed, taking a sleepy Bella with them. They were followed almost immediately by Imogen – this time accompanied by her husband. Zoë took that as a positive sign. Pretty soon afterwards, Zoë decided that she too was ready to go back to her room, so she kissed Billy and Daniela and left them to it. Daniela gave her a big smile and Zoë felt really happy for Billy, who had so obviously found himself a lovely wife. She studiously avoided looking across the room at Grant as she left, hoping he would take the hint and not come knocking on her door.
She wasn’t very tired – probably because she had only skied for a part of the morning and her trip to the pool hadn’t exactly been much of an aerobic workout – so she settled down at her laptop and started to write the article on Billy. She was ever more convinced that the only way she was going to send it to Damien would be if Billy read it first and approved it. With this in mind, she set out to make it as positive and encouraging as possible. Although Billy now displayed an air of confidence, Zoë knew him well enough now to see that it was – as he himself had said – only wafer thin. As she read back through the notes she had jotted down over the past few days, she realised that she had learnt more about him in this past week than in the whole of an academic year living in the same house together. She felt quite ashamed of herself for having taken him for granted back then. Of course, she had been so caught up in the first flush of her new relationship with Grant at the time, she hadn’t really been interested in anybody else.
Doing her best to banish thoughts of Grant, she made a start.
For now, she gave the piece the simple title ‘The Reclusive Mr Fischer’. Often she only thought up titles for her pieces after they were finished, and sometimes she just passed them up the line and let Damien come up with something suitable. He generally liked far more outrageous and attention-grabbing titles than hers, so she normally just let him get on with it. One time she had written an article about a buxom singer called Betty Bean who had made a mistake at a concert by forgetting the name of the city she was performing in. Zoë’s working title for the piece had been, ‘Where Am I?’. Damien had renamed it ‘Betty’s Big Boob’.
The first paragraph was a general introduction, mentioning that she and Billy had shared a rickety old house at university with a group of friends, and describing how hard-working he had been. She debated whether to use the word ‘nerd’, and then settled on ‘geek’, which she felt sounded less derogatory. She was far from sure whether she would even go ahead with the article, but if she did, she wanted him to see that it was not intended to be critical – very much the opposite. As she wrote the first few hundred words, however, she rapidly discovered that there was little likelihood of her producing something critical. The fact was that she liked Billy a lot. She always had liked him, but it was only now she was getting to know him properly. And what she was learning about him only served to endear him to her all the more.
By the time she had finished for the night, she had produced the first couple of paragraphs and a rough outline of how she intended to proceed, and so far she hadn’t found anything negative to say about him. As she closed the laptop and headed for the bathroom, she felt sure she would be able to produce an article that would be informative for the reader, but also reassuring and supportive to her friend. But she continued to repeat her internal mantra – she wasn’t going to do anything with it until Billy had had the chance to read and approve what she had written.
Chapter 12
The snow carried on relentlessly and must have finally stopped some time during the night. When Zoë surfaced in the morning and looked out of the window, she was almost blinded by the sun, still very low on the horizon, as it reflected across the virtually unbroken swathe of white covering the scene outside. She was feeling really excited at the prospect of a day in the powder snow.
The previous night, although she had spent a while turning over in her head everything that Grant had said to her, she had soon drifted off into untroubled sleep. This morning, she was no closer to reaching a decision about his plea to her at the pool, but she didn’t care. There was no need for her to make any hasty decisions, and if he didn’t like it, he could lump it.
Before going through for breakfast, she checked her emails and found no fewer than three from Damien, prodding her less and less tactfully to get her finger out and send him the article about Billy. She came very close to telling him to stay out of her private life and leave her alone, but discretion won the day and she sent him a reply telling him she was making progress with the article and would try to approach Billy without delay.
She and Billy travelled up on the chairlift together with Daniela and Juliet, and they split up at the top, arranging to meet up again at lunchtime in a small restaurant near one of the other lifts. Billy told them that the place was run by one of his friends, who had promised to reserve them a table outside on the terrace. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the views from up there promised to be spectacular. As Juliet and Daniela skied off, Billy turned to Zoë with a smile.
‘Right, are you ready?’ She nodded. ‘Then let’s go. I’ll take it fairly slow at first, but if you want to go slower or faster, just shout. Okay?’
He pulled on his goggles, checked his bindings and then – seeing that she was ready to go – set off directly down the untouched slope beneath the chairlift. The snow was still a bit icy, but it was immensely deep and Zoë found herself having to work really hard, particularly in the turns. Ahead of her, Billy was making it look easy as he snaked down the slope. She followed him, doing her best to mimic his movements. Then, when he reached the first pylon, he suddenly shot off to the left and disappeared into the pine trees.
Zoë took a deep breath and followed him, zigzagging through the forest, following his shape as it danced through the virgin snow. From time to time he brushed against snow-laden branches, and she soon learned that it was best to stay back a bit, otherwise she was almost blinded by the clouds of powder snow he released as he passed. After a few exciting and exhausting minutes, they emerged from the trees onto an open area, presumably a bit of high pasture in the summer months. Below them she could just see the roof of a shepherd’s hut sticking up from a drift, and she closed up on Billy as he swooped down towards it in a series of wide, elegant curves. At the last minute, to her surprise, instead of going round the hut, he deliberately headed straight towards it, skiing up the slope of the roof, and flying off it into the air. As he became airborne, he threw his arms out to the sides and kicked his legs apart. Even through her woolly hat she distinctly heard him give a hoot of exhilaration.
She hesitated and then made a split-second decision, determined to follow him. She shot up the roof of the hut and found herself flying through the air, her heart in her mouth. To her considerable relief – and pride – she landed perfectly and carved round into a spectacular stop in front of Billy, who was standing waiting for her, a smile on his face. As she stopped, her skis showered him with snow and she felt great satisfaction at seeing him wipe handfuls of the stuff off his face before he could speak to her. She pushed her goggles up onto the top of her head and gave him a broad grin.
‘That’s for not warning me you were taking me over a jump. That, Herr Fischer, was amazing. I’m pretty sure my whole life flashed before my eyes for a moment back there. You realise you’re completely crazy?’
‘Rubbish. That’s one of the easy ones. Make sure you don’t annoy me, or I might take you over the one we call the Hubschrauber – the Helicopter. You can probably imagine how it got its name. If you hit it right, you fly for about ten metres.’
‘And if you don’t hit it right?’
‘You still fly ten metres, but the landing’s a lot less enjoyable. One guy I was with ended up stuck halfway up a fir tree – and not a small one. It took him ten minutes to climb down.’
‘I like fir trees, but I have no desire to end up stuck in one. Sitting around the Christmas tree back at the hotel will d
o me fine. I’ll make very sure I don’t annoy you, Billy Fischer, and I’ll leave the Hubschrauber to experts – or lunatics – like you.’
He smiled back. ‘I’m sorry. Taking you over the jump was a bit mean, I admit, but it was fun, wasn’t it? You ski really well, you know.’
‘It’s probably just as well I do, otherwise you might have ended up carrying me home.’
‘You wouldn’t have hurt yourself. Look – see how deep it is here?’
To demonstrate, he leant on one of his poles and it disappeared all the way down into the soft snow until his glove was touching the ground.
‘It always piles up here after a dump like we had last night. I knew you’d be all right.’ He tugged the pole back out again. ‘So what next? What would you like to do? More jumps? Cross-country? Faster? Slower?’
‘I thought that was just perfect, to be honest, Billy. More of the same, please.’
‘Excellent. Okay, follow me.’
And off they went again.
She felt very much at ease with him, and was delighted for him that he had finally emerged from his geeky former self – at least on the surface. Now, he was really good company – and a spectacular skier. She very nearly took the opportunity to speak to him about the article when they were on one of the lifts, but at the last moment decided against it. Maybe, she told herself, she wouldn’t even speak to him at all, and would just tell Damien he had said no. Billy trusted her and she knew she couldn’t let him down.
She found it quite straightforward to follow him down the slopes, and as she did so, she let her mind roam, inevitably returning to the subject of Grant once more. She had told him she would think about what he had said, and she had done a lot of thinking, but now she knew it was time to make up her mind – for his sake, but above all for her own.
As she skied along, it all gradually fell into place. She knew that if Billy chose to lead her over another jump, she would follow him blindly, because she trusted him. She trusted him and he trusted her – she had no doubt about it. But the fact was, she didn’t trust Grant. Grant was looking good, he was sounding contrite, but deep down she knew she would never be able to trust him properly again. It was really very simple. Without trust, there could be no relationship, and that was that.
Suddenly all her doubts were extinguished – she knew what she had to do and she resolved to tell him to his face the next time they were alone. As the decision took root in her mind, she felt a great sense of relief and closure. She was smiling as they broke through the edge of the trees and she followed Billy’s dancing hips down to the next chairlift. Surprisingly, there was no queue, and they climbed straight on. As they sat down together and drew breath, he must have sensed her mood.
‘You’re looking happy, Zoë.’
‘I am happy, Billy. I’m really happy. And it’s not just because I’m out here with you on such a perfect day. It’s taken me a year, but I think I’ve finally managed to get over Grant.’ She turned towards him. ‘You can’t imagine how good that makes me feel. And you can’t imagine how grateful I am to you for inviting me here to this gorgeous place. It’s so clean, so fresh, so unspoilt, and all I have to worry about is not falling off my skis. I’ve been able to do a lot of serious thinking and I’ve finally cleared my head as far as Grant’s concerned.’
Billy removed his goggles and pulled off his hat, stuffing it down the front of his jacket. The sun was full on them now and it was really quite hot. Zoë could see steam rising into the frosty air from both of them.
‘Have you told him?’
Zoë shook her head. ‘I’ll do that later on today.’ A thought struck her. ‘If I were the vindictive kind, I’d wait till the day after tomorrow – the anniversary of his bombshell to me.’
‘You haven’t got a vindictive bone in your body, Zoë – or at least, if you have, I’ve never noticed it. I’m glad you’re feeling good. I’ve been concerned for you.’ He stretched and reached into his jacket for his phone. ‘Would you mind if I take a photo of you with that lovely smile on your face?’
‘Okay, and then I’ll take one of you.’
After the photos, he asked her the same question that had been going round inside her own head.
‘So now that Grant is history, what happens next? Jules said you were very busy at work and concentrating on finding something new. Does that mean you’re dropping out of the game as far as men are concerned?’
‘Some game!’ She heard the bitterness in her voice and struggled to change her tone. ‘What was it you were saying about everybody having one perfect mate out there somewhere? Maybe mine’s still waiting for me, but I’m not holding my breath. I’m not about to embark on another search – at least not for now. For the moment, I’m concentrating on getting things sorted out as far as my career’s concerned.’ She summoned a grin. ‘Of course, I suppose there’s always the chance I’ll find Prince Charming at the Christmas ball, but I’m not going looking. We’ll see what happens.’
At that very moment, something did happen. The lift had been running smoothly along, about ten metres above the ground when it suddenly stopped, so abruptly that the chairs started swinging wildly.
‘Don’t worry.’ Billy was quick to reassure her. ‘It’s probably just somebody at the top or the bottom of the lift who’s got caught up in something. It’ll start up again in a few moments.’
In fact, it was a full ten minutes, and by that time Zoë had well and truly cooled down and was definitely relieved to get moving again. When they reached the top, Billy asked the lift man what the delay had been. The answer was delivered with a thick local accent that defeated Zoë, and she had to ask Billy for a translation.
‘There’s been an accident down near the bottom, apparently. The helicopter’s on its way. Listen, that’s it now. That was quick – must be serious.’
Sure enough, she heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching. It flew low over them, following the line of the lift, before disappearing from sight beyond the trees. The engine noise rose as it landed and then silence – or nearly silence – returned.
‘Let’s hope they’re okay. Right, I suggest we get moving. I’m freezing.’
Zoë agreed wholeheartedly, and they set off down through the trees once more. They had a fabulous morning’s skiing and reached the little restaurant at the top of the furthest lift bang on half past twelve as arranged. However, just as they were sitting down with Juliet and Daniela on the sunny terrace overlooking the valley, everything changed.
It started with a phone call to Billy.
He pulled his mobile out of the inside pocket of his jacket and answered it, and it immediately became apparent that all was far from well. Zoë and the others waited anxiously for him to reveal what had happened. He gave a series of orders in German to the person at the other end before finally ringing off. Still holding the phone, he explained what he had been told.
‘That helicopter we saw – it was for Martin.’
‘Martin? What on earth? Surely he was at ski school, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes, but apparently he lost control as they were skiing down to catch the same lift we took. Before the instructor could get to him, he slid right in front of an empty chair just as it was leaving the bottom station. It gave him a hell of a whack on the head, then lifted him bodily into the air and carried him for ten or twenty metres before the attendant could switch it off. Then it dropped him.’
They were all appalled. Daniela spoke first.
‘Is he badly hurt?’
‘We don’t know. He was knocked unconscious and they say it looks as though his arm is broken. They’ve flown him down to hospital in Salzburg.’
‘How awful!’ Daniela sounded horrified. ‘Does Mandy know?’
‘Yes. That was Georg from the hotel on the phone. He’s driving her down to the hospital in the minibus as we speak.’ He turned towards Zoë. ‘Bella’s still at her ski class. Mandy asked if you could go and collect her and look after her until we kn
ow what’s going on.’
Zoë jumped to her feet and the others followed suit. ‘Of course. Can somebody show me the quickest way back?’
Together they skied back to the baby lift by the hotel, where Zoë found a very cheerful Bella, blissfully unaware of the drama. On the way there, Zoë had been rehearsing in her head the best thing to say to a five-year-old. In the end, she decided that there was no point in worrying her until they knew more. As she and Bella walked back to the hotel, she explained the situation in terms that wouldn’t frighten the little girl too much.
‘Your mummy and daddy have gone to Salzburg – you remember, the place where we went to the concert in that lovely old palace.’ Bella nodded. ‘Your daddy fell over when he was skiing and he’s probably hurt his arm, but we’ll know more when Mummy phones to let us know.’
‘Will he be all right, Zoë?’
‘I’m sure he will.’
Bella looked reassured and didn’t notice that Zoë’s fingers behind her back were firmly crossed.
Back at the hotel, Zoë dumped her skiing jacket and heavy boots and asked Erika to give her a spare key to Mandy’s room. As much to fill a bit of time as anything else, she ran a bath for Bella and saw that the little girl was scrubbed and changed into clean dry clothes. She then took her back with her to her own room, stuck her in front of some cartoons on the television and went into the bathroom for a quick shower. It was past two by the time she was ready and they walked hand in hand down the corridor to the dining room, where they helped themselves to food from the buffet and sat down to eat.
Billy and Daniela arrived as they were finishing their lunch, accompanied by the Labrador, and Bella wasted no time in disappearing under the table to play with him. Billy gave Zoë an update.
‘It’s pretty good news. Georg just phoned. Martin’s conscious and lucid, although they’re keeping him in overnight in case of concussion. He’s fractured two bones in his arm and he’s pretty badly bruised, but he’ll be fine.’
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