The Little Swiss Ski Chalet

by Julie Caplin

  ‘A rescue like that. Come on.’ Now he was twinkly-eyed, encouraging her in the game.

  ‘A quarter.’

  ‘A quarter!’ His mock outrage made her giggle. ‘For heroic services to fair maidens. That’s not going to keep body and soul together. And how am I supposed to battle to the death for a seat for you? I need sustenance.’

  ‘Are seats in short supply?’ she asked, alarmed. The journey was just over two hours.

  ‘We should be alright at this time. It gets busier later as everyone heads to the slopes for the weekend.’

  They both rose to their feet and he hauled up a huge rucksack and slid it onto his back before picking up an ancient suitcase which looked as if it might have belonged to his granny. This bizarrely incongruous combination puzzled Mina as he ushered her through to the carriage, which was surprisingly full. ‘If you keep going, the other end of the train is usually much quieter.’

  Together they swayed along the aisle as the train slunk with surprising quietness through the outskirts of Zurich, walking through five carriages before they finally came to one with several pairs of free seats.

  ‘Mind if I join you?’ he asked, gesturing at two seats together. ‘You’re going to want a window seat on this trip.’

  ‘No, not at all.’ The very same question had been hovering on her lips as she’d followed his cute bum and loose-limbed stride down the train. In jeans and a leather sheepskin-lined flying jacket, he embodied cool without trying too hard, but then the bright red, chunky, woollen scarf added a dash of irreverent mischief, stopping him from having that frosty unapproachability of the ubercool Instagram crowd. Besides, he seemed cheerful, upbeat, and was very easy on the eye – she had no objections at all. She got the impression that he was an embrace-life-at-full-speed, fun guy who was easy to flirt with and would never take anything too seriously. A bit like herself.

  ‘How about I go find us a coffee to go with the chocolate?’ he asked, unwinding the scarf from around his neck.

  ‘You’re not giving up, are you?’

  ‘Well, it does look like jolly nice chocolate.’ A Labrador couldn’t have looked more hopeful.

  ‘Stop with the puppy dog eyes.’ She held up a warning hand even though she couldn’t hide her amusement. ‘You supply the caffeine and I’ll supply the theobromine.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘It’s a stimulant found in chocolate.’ She preened just a little, because she liked the sudden admiration in his eyes.

  ‘Fancy. Are you really good at crosswords?’

  She laughed. ‘God no, I don’t have the patience. I’m a food technologist. We know that sort of stuff.’

  ‘Is it true they put motor oil in sauces to make them shiny in the pictures?’

  ‘’Fraid so. And white glue as milk, and mashed potato to fill pies. All tricks of the trade.’

  ‘I think I’d better go and buy the coffee before you tell me that it’s made with tar or something horrible.’

  ‘Would you like some money?’

  ‘No.’ His mouth twisted with that beguiling lopsided smile. ‘This way you’ll feel beholden to share your chocolate.’

  ‘You don’t know me very well. When it comes to chocolate, I’m not beholden to anyone.’ She lifted a teasing eyebrow.

  He huffed out a sigh. ‘Tough nut. I’ll have to come up with a new strategy while I scour the train for a trolley or the food carriage.’

  She watched him leave. Having an amusing travel companion would certainly brighten the journey. Sitting still for a couple of hours had never been her idea of fun. Hannah, her sister, was a world-class bookworm, but Mina couldn’t keep her mind on the pages unless it was a recipe book. At Hannah’s suggestion, she had tried audiobooks, but she’d suddenly find herself lost in thought and ten minutes on from the last bit she’d heard, with no idea what had happened between. With podcasts, it didn’t matter if she tuned out.

  At least in his absence she could give herself up to thinking about which chocolate bar she should open. It took a lot of deciding, and she was still umming and ahhing when he returned with two steaming cups of coffee.

  ‘It’s quite simple, you just open the packet,’ he teased, sitting down opposite her.

  ‘This is not just any chocolate you know. I have Ecuadorian dark chocolate, Madagascan milk chocolate with a praline filling, and a Ghanaian sea salt and almond chocolate.’

  ‘Are you a connoisseur or something?’

  She pondered the question for a second.

  ‘An afficionado, I guess.’

  ‘Is there a difference?’

  ‘A connoisseur knows their stuff, an afficionado has great affection for something,’ she replied gravely, as if she had the first clue what she was talking about.

  He regarded her for a second, suspicion darkening his eyes, before she burst into laughter. ‘I don’t actually know, but I love chocolate, and I know a little about it from working in a food kitchen.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for introductions but, girl-with-a passion-for-chocolate, do you have another name?’

  ‘Yes, Mina.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Luke.’

  ‘So where are you headed?’

  ‘I’m… I’m going skiing. In Valais.’ Mina frowned at the quick hesitation. She was good at spotting a lie, or at least she always thought she’d been. Clearly she’d missed a trick with Simon.

  There was something about his words that didn’t quite ring true, and then she realised. ‘So where are your skis?’

  ‘That is the most brilliant thing about train travel in Switzerland. You can send them on ahead.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yup. The Swiss are big on trains. They travel more by train than any other nation in the world, and you can get one to just about anywhere in the country, which is pretty impressive when you consider most of the country is taken up by mountains. Which makes them experts at building bridges and tunnels. This journey is quicker by train than by car and takes in—’ He halted suddenly and waved an apologetic hand. ‘Sorry. Time to get off my soapbox, your eyes were starting to glaze over.’

  Mina didn’t think they were; his enthusiasm was infectious. He could probably make drying paint sound appealing.

  ‘You sound like a bit of a train enthusiast.’

  For a second his eyes slid away from hers and then he asked, ‘So are you here on holiday, or do you work here?’

  She recognised a change of subject when she saw one. Uncle Derek had one serious hobby. He was a proper, full-on trainspotter and his ever-expanding Hornby railway set, which had once belonged to their real dad, still took up the entire floor area of the loft. For a moment she wondered what Derek would do with it when they moved, and whether it actually belonged to her and Hannah.

  ‘Me? Work here? Why on earth would he think that?’

  ‘Twenty per cent of the population in Switzerland are foreigners. Usually based in the five main cities. Financial folk in Zurich, political in Bern, pharmaceuticals in Basel, legal in Lausanne – and Geneva, where I work, is the HQ for the UN.’

  ‘So you live in Geneva?’

  ‘Sort of. I’m between posts at the moment, trying to decide on my next role, so I’m taking an extended holiday.’

  ‘The UN sounds interesting.’ Although he also a sounded a little flaky; wasn’t ‘between posts’ a euphemism for being unemployed?

  ‘It sounds a lot more interesting than it is sometimes.’ He shrugged. ‘But it has its pluses. I get to do a lot of travelling.’

  ‘Lucky you. I create food dishes from all over the world – Milano parmigiana, Bombay spiced chicken, Moroccan lamb tagine. The nearest I’ve got to Bombay is Manchester Airport. My family were never big on travel. My parents’ idea of exotic is a static caravan in Normandy – and that’s a significant upgrade from our six-man tent in Eastbourne.’ She wasn’t going to talk about Simon and his allergy to flying; his name had been expunged from her brain. She refused to give him one micromillimetere
of head-room.

  ‘I’ve never been camping. It always sounded a lot of fun.’ Luke sounded wistful.

  ‘Hmm, me and my sister would rather have been having fun in Ibiza or Mykonos, but if we hadn’t gone with my aunt and uncle – we grew up with them – they’d never have got the tent up. They’re a bit useless sometimes.’ She shook her head, ‘Love ’em to bits, but they’re the most dithery, indecisive people on the planet. Thank goodness Aunty M’s bladder isn’t what it used to be and she likes to have a handy bathroom. Hence the upgrade to caravan in France. Oops, sorry too much information.’ She slapped her forehead. ‘I’m sure you don’t want to know about my aunt’s incontinence problems.’

  He laughed. ‘Not really. So is this a holiday or not, then?

  ‘More of a tactical retreat.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m taking some time off from work. Let’s say HR suggested I book some holiday. My godmother lives over here and she sent me an invite at exactly the right moment. It seemed like a good idea. I’m dying to try skiing properly, I’ve only ever done the indoor type. Are you a skier?’

  ‘Yes. Downhill, snowboarding, cross-country. You name it, I love it – although where I’m headed there’s a lot more cross-country skiing, which is more leisurely than downhill, but gives you a chance to take in the beautiful scenery.’ His eyes glowed with enthusiasm. ‘And it is a beautiful country.’ He nodded out of the window and Mina gave a gasp. The train had slowed, and as she looked back she could see it was easing its way around the dramatic curve of a viaduct that seemed to have been built straight into the mountainside. ‘Oh my, we’re so high up.’

  ‘Over fifty metres. This is an incredible feat of engineering.’

  ‘It’s amazing, and to think suddenly we’re in the mountains, just like that.’ She stared out of the window at the jagged peak edges that dominated the skyline and the snow-laden firs that crowded onto the lower slopes. Far below, a valley stretched away to the distance, a dark river meandering through the snowy banks and a tiny village straggled along the valley, the houses spread out across the river meadows.

  ‘Imagine living there.’ She pointed down at the tiny settlement. ‘It feels as if we’re miles from anywhere, cut off from real life.’

  ‘That’s part of the attraction for a lot of people, especially those who come at the weekend to get away from it all. The lady who runs the place I’m going to really understands that. She makes it a home from home.’ He laughed. ‘There are quite a few regulars who come out every weekend during the season. I get the impression she likes looking after people.’

  Mina’s smile dimmed. People used to say that about her, but now she felt a little abandoned. In the last two weeks, everyone at the fateful dinner party had given her a wide berth, as if they were embarrassed for her. Even the two Georges had cancelled their regular second-Saturday-of-the-month pizza night. She was grateful for the sudden distraction of the view, which had burst upon them in glorious technicolour.

  She pressed her forehead to the cold glass trying to peer down the valley. The train skirted the hillside, the tracks truncated its slope at the halfway point, and below, lush green blanketed the meadows on either side of a deep blue river that sparkled and raced across the smooth boulders lacing its shores. Across the valley on the horizon, the jagged snow-covered peaks framed the skyline, the dark rock and white striking against the azure blue of the sky. The contrast of blue and white was almost blinding, and she thought the view was possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, until they rounded another bend and another valley opened up before them, dominated by a brilliant jewel-bright turquoise-blue lake that reflected the mountains on its surface.

  ‘Oh my goodness, it’s gorgeous,’ she breathed, her eyes scanning each and every detail, trying to commit the sheer beauty to memory.

  Luke smiled with almost paternal indulgence.

  ‘Told you, you get the best views from the train.’

  ‘It’s so beautiful. I think I could sit and watch for hours.’

  ‘I find it quite restful, although when I get to the other end I’m always desperate to stretch my legs. Won’t be time today, it’ll be nearly dark when we get there. But tomorrow morning I’ll be out on one of the hiking trails. Can’t wait.’

  ‘I thought it would all be skiing.’

  ‘Depends where you go. There’s also a lot of winter hiking. Until the Swiss voted against it, naked hiking was very popular.’ He grinned at her. ‘Imagine the frostbite.’

  Mina laughed, not sure if he was telling the truth or not.

  ‘I’d rather not, it sounds hideous.’ She shivered as her imagination took over. ‘I’ll stick to fully-clothed activities, although I have no idea what’s available where I’m going. I just booked a flight and here I am.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with that. More of an adventure.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ she grinned at him. ‘And I’m always up for adventure. I’d really like to have a go at the cross-country skiing, it always looks so elegant.’

  He snorted. ‘It’s bloody hard work, but then when you get into a rhythm it is great, and you can take the time to look around and enjoy your surroundings. Zooming down a slope is all good and well, great for the adrenaline rush, but you miss so much. Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes I think I prefer cross-country.’

  ‘Your secret is safe with me. Now as well as chocolate, I also have these.’ She dug in her bag and brought out the pretzels.

  Luke groaned. ‘I think I’m in love. Chocolate and kurbiskernen. You are the perfect woman.’

  ‘You’re easy. You should try my triple-chocolate cake.’

  ‘Sold. We’ll honeymoon in South America. You ever been white-water rafting or paragliding?’

  She beamed at him. ‘Neither, but I’d love to have a go.’

  He lifted his coffee cup. ‘To the perfect woman… well, if half of the chocolate were going, you’d be perfect.’

  She rolled her eyes and snapped the bar in two.

  Chapter Five

  Quite where the two-hour journey went, she had no idea. Luke was her idea of perfect company: funny, light-hearted, interesting, and although he was talkative – that made two of them – he was also a good listener. She got the impression that he would have been able to repeat and remember everything she’d told him, which in her book was a rare skill, especially in a man like him. Usually confident, chatty types were too busy thinking about what they wanted to say next about themselves.

  Their conversation had batted backwards and forwards with the ease of a gentle rally between Federer and Nadal, and while she made friends easily, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d met someone and felt quite so instantly at ease with them.

  When the guard announced that the train would arrive very soon at Brig, where they were both changing, she felt a real pang of disappointment as Luke jumped to his feet and gathered up his rucksack and suitcase.

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve got a quick change here and I want to try and pick up my skis from the luggage office, so I’m going to love you and leave you.’

  ‘Have a safe trip. Nice to meet you.’ Her pulse tripped with regret. Asking for his phone number would be crazy. Two strangers on a train.

  For a moment, the question hovered on her tongue and she very nearly asked him, but then that was the sort of impulsive behaviour that she was trying to avoid. It didn’t fall within the remit of ‘sorting herself out’.

  ‘It was lovely to meet you,’ he paused, his eyes skimming over her face, ‘really lovely, Mina.’ He gave her another one of his brilliant lopsided smiles, his gaze dropping with sudden shyness to her lips before he asked with a quick frown, ‘Do you believe in serendipity?’

  A couple of butterflies did a few star jumps in her stomach and something fizzed in her chest.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied slowly, unable to tear her gaze away from his dancing blue eyes, that were now filled with mischief and challenge.

  ‘Me neither, but sometimes you just know.�
�� He leaned forward, his mouth inches from hers. ‘If I kiss you maybe…’ He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. She shrugged back, her heart skittering about in her chest. ‘A kiss goodbye.’

  His lips grazed hers in a barely-there kiss that seemed to crackle with electricity. Startled, she glanced up to find his eyes were as wide as hers, as if asking did that really happen? She gazed up at him, solemn-eyed, holding on to her breath and he frowned again as if puzzled. The train began to slow and his frown deepened as if he were trying to make up his mind. Then he leaned forward and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her towards him. He paused again as if awaiting her permission. She rose on her toes to meet him as he lowered his mouth again. There was no time for a leisurely exploration – this was a once-in-a lifetime kiss that both embraced with enthusiasm. It was like stepping out into the sunshine, and warmth flooded every last bit of her, she never wanted it to stop.

  Then Luke wrenched his mouth away. ‘I’ve got to go. Maybe we’ll meet again one day,’ and with that he rushed away down the carriage to the door while she pressed her fingers against her mouth, smiling as she gathered her belongings together.

  Everything still felt discombobulated, as if her whole system was on final spin cycle, when she boarded the next, considerably busier train. The two guys opposite, who had initially perked up like a pair of meerkats when she sat down, probably now thought she was a bit weird. For some reason she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss, and kept alternating between beaming dreamily to herself and frowning and screwing up her face in dismal self-analysis.

  She didn’t really know what to think. Part of her was in the thank-goodness-she-was-never going-to-see-him-again camp because he was so scarily right-but-wrong for her, and there was another part that almost grieved because she would never see him again and he was so scarily right-but-wrong for her. A pertinent reminder of why she’d come on this trip. She yanked Moving Onwards and Upwards out of her bag, opening it up and flattening it against her leg, glowering at the younger of the two men opposite, who craned his neck to read the title. Time to focus, and not think any more about serendipity and amazing kisses.