by Julie Caplin
‘You’re making me hungry,’ said Mina.
‘That reminds me. Help yourself to anything in the fridge for lunch. I don’t provide lunch for guests here, although they can order baguettes and some cheese and meat to take for a packed lunch. I always have plenty.’
‘Thank you. You’ve thought of everything.’
‘I try, although I’m worried I’m not being a terribly good hostess to you, not spending any time with you. But I promised Johannes I’d go over to his house later to choose some new wines. He was most insistent it had to be today.’ She rolled her eyes but her mouth curved in a slight smile. ‘I think he’s quite lonely. He seems to like floating around here a lot. Unlike you. You’ve come for a break. I don’t want you to be hanging around here with me, or expect you to be hanging on my apron strings.’ She laughed. ‘That’s rather appropriate. I don’t expect you to help in the kitchen. It’s lovely having your company but you should be out there.’ She pointed.
‘But what if I want to? I’m having a lovely time. And there are some things that I do want to learn about.’ Mina pointed to the fondue recipe.
‘Ah, I quite often do a fondue or a raclette on a Monday, when it’s much quieter. They’re both good dishes for breaking the ice and making people talk to each other.’
As Mina helped Amelie clean up the kitchen, make the dinner, and assemble the cake, she realised how at home she felt. It was as if she and Amelie had worked alongside each other forever. There was a lot of work for one person. Amelie must have been up since at least six to have put out breakfast which was a help-yourself buffet of muesli and a typical continental breakfast of cheese, sliced meat, and bread, which had looked home-made to Mina.
‘Don’t you have any help?’ she suddenly asked.
‘Only to serve the food on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, when we’re full.’ said Amelie. ‘You wouldn’t believe how many people catch the early train on Monday and go straight to work. Giselle and Franzi come in for a couple of hours in the mornings to make beds and clean the rooms, and in the evenings to serve dinner. They live in the village and are still at school. Gorgeous girls. But I do all the cooking.’ She sighed. ‘It’s quite tiring. By Thursday evening I’m ready for bed straight after dinner. I love looking after everyone, and I’m afraid I’m too much of a perfectionist to let anyone else take over. Besides, I’m still getting things off the ground. Winter is OK but the summer… I still need to establish myself. I can’t really afford to take anyone else on yet.’
‘Well, I’m more than happy to help. I’ve really enjoyed this morning. I’ve missed cooking like this.’
Rather than eat on her own in the kitchen, Mina took her lunch up to her room so that she could enjoy the view while she ate. She wasn’t meeting Luke until one-thirty, and with an hour to kill, she decided she might as well read a bit more of her book. Flicking through, she found her page again and tried to remember what the heck it had said. She remembered a moment of illumination on the train. That was it. She was halfway across the bridge – not knowing what she did want in life, but with an idea of what she didn’t. So what did the book suggest she do about it?
Divide a page into two and on one side, make a list of all the things you instinctively know you don’t want in life, no matter how big or small, but group them according to importance.
Mina frowned. That sounded quite easy in principle; she knew she didn’t want to live in Outer Mongolia, eat raw fish every day, or become a supermodel. There were dozens of things she didn’t want to do, and she couldn’t see how that was supposed to help her. Luckily the book had a series of prompts.
Think about your living arrangements. Do you still want to be where you are now in a six months, a year, five years?
Think about where you are in a relationship. Where do you see it going in the next six months, a year, five years?
Think about your job. Where do you want to be in six months, a year, five years?
Mina sucked on the end of her pen and gazed out of the window. People on skis in brightly coloured jackets whizzed along the trails with co-ordinated swishes of their poles, one behind the other like small, neat locomotives. In the far distance, on the other side of the valley, specks of people on an ant-like missions traversed the slopes. She wanted to be out there, doing fun stuff, not this navel-gazing. But she was supposed to be ‘sorting herself out’. The words had become a sort of mantra in her head.
For the first time, it occurred to her that she’d been settling for a long time, just existing without really giving things much thought. What had happened to the high hopes and aspirations she’d had when she’d first started her job – her food crusade – where she’d introduce people to new flavours, different ingredients, and interesting dishes from around the world? She cringed. It didn’t fit with the image she had of herself at all. She liked to think of herself as being outgoing, adventurous, positive, and forward-thinking. Ouch! The reality wasn’t looking so great. What she’d really been doing was treading water in parts of her life.
With a sigh, she stared disconsolately at the blank page. A couple of weeks ago she’d have confidently told anyone she had all the answers: move in with Simon to a bigger place, get engaged, and apply for the next promotion at Freshfoods. Now she realised that none of those things had really excited her, or would have moved her life on to anything particularly different. She was a complete fraud, and the realisation hit her hard. There was a whole world out there.
She tossed the notebook aside, pushed open the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony, immediately blinking in the bright sunshine. Outdoors – that was where she wanted to be right now, instead of brooding over stupid self-help books which weren’t helping at all. The damn book had just made her feel crap about her—
The snowball hit her right in the shoulder, sending a spray of ice crystals across her face and leaving her spluttering. She leaned over the balcony to find Luke laughing up at her and already patting a second snowball in his hands.
Without stopping to think, she ducked down to the drift in the corner of the balcony, scooped an armful of snow, and threw it down over him. The fine powder rained down like flour onto his upturned face.
‘Gotcha!’ she cried, pleased she’d hit her target.
‘What are you doing up there, like Juliet?’
‘Wishing I was outside.’
‘Well, come on then, if you’re free now. The day’s a-wasting. I’ll meet you in the boot room and we can get you kitted out. Be down in five otherwise I’m going without you.’
‘I didn’t say I was definitely coming,’ she protested with a grin.
‘But you know you want to. Look at this.’ He threw out one arm to indicate the snow-covered landscape and shot her one of those disarming grins, of which he seemed to have a complete arsenal, before tramping through the snow towards the front door. And just like that the decision seemed so simple.
She dashed back inside, stripped off her jeans, and pulled on her thermals and a pair of black ski trousers over the top. After a quick detour to the bathroom, she grabbed a thick pair of socks, a fleece top and gloves, and jammed a pale blue cashmere hat on her head before racing down to the boot room.
‘What kept you?’ teased Luke, his eyes crinkling into his usual smile.
‘That was a world record,’ she said with mock outrage, still panting slightly from taking all three flights of stairs at a fast jog. She’d even managed a quick coat of mascara, which was probably still wet.
He looked at his watch. ‘Five minutes and three seconds.’
‘Oh, come on,’ said Mina, whose competitive spirit was well and truly piqued.
‘Just this once, I’ll allow those three seconds. What shoe-size are you?’
It didn’t take long for Luke to sort her out with the neat black ankle boots that reminded her of ice skates without the blade, and in less than fifteen minutes she was zipping up her ski jacket and carrying a set of skis and poles, very different from yesterday�
�s, down the steps of the hotel.
‘It’s just a short walk to the track,’ explained Luke.
‘The track?’ She’d envisioned gliding across the snow though the fir trees.
‘Yes, it’s a specially prepared trail for the skis, it makes it a lot easier especially when you’re learning.’
‘Where did you learn?’ Mina was intrigued.
‘My mother was Norwegian, so she taught me when I was younger. I think that was part of the attraction of coming to live in Switzerland. We always went to Norway in the winter on holiday to see my grandparents.’
‘Are you Norwegian, then?’ There was no trace of an accent in his voice, she’d assumed he was English.
‘Half and half. My dad is English. My folks live in Surrey just outside Guildford. I’ve been living off and on in Geneva for the last few years. What about you?’
‘English through and through. I feel a bit dull in comparison.’ She’d always been the live wire at home, but here she was starting to realise that she really hadn’t done that much with her life. ‘Everyone here seems so cosmopolitan.’
‘Doesn’t necessarily make them interesting. I don’t think you’re the least bit dull.’ His eyes held hers for a moment and she wondered if he was thinking of that impulsive kiss on the train. Then she knew he was as his gaze dropped to her lips and he gave her that warm lopsided smile. ‘I know you have a sense of adventure.’
She felt the blush stain her cheeks and turned away.
‘It’s beautiful here, and these boots are so much more comfortable. I had a great time yesterday but I swear I’ve got bruises on my shins.’ Hefting her skis onto her shoulder, she focused on watching where she was going as they crunched their way across the snow.
Here in the valley, the snow undulated gently across its surface, a heavy blanket curving and softening the landscape. The wide expanse of unmarked snow, except for the twin tracks that cut through the trees, made Mina feel as if they were the only people out here. There was an incredible silence, the sounds absorbed as much by the snow as by the thick layer of last year’s golden pine needles beneath the closely planted firs. And there was the almost toothpaste freshness of the air, which she hoped she’d never take for granted while she was here.
‘First thing you should know is that, unlike with downhill skis, only the toe of your boot clips into the ski, so you use your feet to propel yourself forward.’
‘I feel like I could go dancing in these boots.’ She did a quick pirouette, nearly taking him out with her poles and skis balanced across one shoulder.
‘Oy,’ he said, laughing as he ducked. ‘No waltzing today. But I know what you mean. It’s part of the attraction of cross-country. Don’t get me wrong, I love the thrill of careering down a slope, but I like this because I have a sense of being in control. Once you get into a rhythm, it’s a bit like running. It just feels as if I’m using my body. But then sometimes I think nothing beats snowboarding. I can never make up my mind.’
‘How was the snow park yesterday? I’d quite like to have a go. I had lessons at the ski centre at home.’ Much to Simon’s disdain. Snowboarding apparently was for teenage boys and dropouts. In fact, what had she seen in Simon? He was a stuffy old man at times. She pushed him out of her thoughts. ‘I used to be pretty good on a skateboard, though.’
Luke laughed. ‘I could have guessed that about you. Did you hang about the skatepark with all the boys, looking cool in a beanie hat?’
‘You must have been there.’
‘It was the only cool thing to do when you were about fourteen, where I lived.’
Mina laughed. ‘And boy, did we think we were cool, talking trucks, wheels, decks, and bearings. Now I look back, I realise we were a bunch of four-wheeled nerds. Thank goodness I grew out of that. After that it was clubbing and partying. I bet you were one of the cool guys then, too.’
‘Of course,’ he said with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, but before Mina could explore the quick sense of unease she felt, he was nudging in her in the ribs, his usual cheeriness and enthusiasm radiating from him like an aura. ‘Look, these are the tracks. There’s an entire network of them through the Goms valley. And there are some specific trails, easy, middle, and difficult, so you can choose how far you go and how hard you want to push yourself. Today I’ll just teach the basics.’ He went on to explain the principles of movement, how to stop and how to use the lightweight poles.
Mina realised she’d unwittingly touched a raw nerve, even though he carried on talking in his usually friendly, open manner. If she hadn’t been so in sync with him, she might not have picked up on it but she was – frighteningly so. It was as if all her senses were tuned into Luke frequency. In his presence she was so aware of him. The cold puffs of breath that came out of his mouth, the way that he’d tempered his long strides to match hers, and the path of his thoughts that seemed to run parallel to hers. Because they were similar, she told herself. He was like her. They would make great friends, but he was not the man for her. And she was not to think of that kiss. He was too like her. Too impulsive. Too spontaneous. Too much fun. She didn’t want to be like that anymore. Couldn’t be like that anymore. He could so easily derail her plans. When she returned to England she wanted to have everything worked out. She wanted to know where she was headed in life and how she was going to get there. They were big things to think about in only a week and a half.
Surprisingly, as Amelie had said, he was a very good teacher. Not once did he make her feel that he’d really rather be whizzing ahead and doing his own thing.
‘That’s it, poles in opposition to the legs. Yes. Nice rhythm.’ After an hour, although her legs were beginning to feel tired, she felt she was getting the hang of it, and they were moving along the track smoothly, Luke slightly ahead of her but looking back frequently.
Every now and then he would hop off the track and let her pass him to watch her progress.
‘You’re doing brilliantly. You’re a quick study.’
‘Just concentrating.’ She beamed at him. They got on so well and he was so easy to be with, it was difficult sometimes to remember that she was supposed to be keeping her distance. ‘But when it comes together, it’s great.’
‘You’ve really got the hang of it. How are your legs? Especially after yesterday.’
They’d been out for just over an hour and a half now and she was starting to feel it in her thighs, but she said, ‘Fine,’ not prepared to admit to any weakness. Besides, she wanted to keep going and perfect her technique.
‘OK, we’ll take the trail up to the tree line and there’s an intersection up there that takes us back to the village.’
For the next ten minutes she had to push hard as they were going uphill. Although it wasn’t steep, it was like running uphill and took a lot more effort and a lot more puff. She could feel herself breathing heavily but she was keeping up and from the clouds of steam up ahead, Luke was working just as hard.
‘Not far now,’ Luke called back. ‘When we get into the trees, we’re going to turn right onto a new trail and then it’s downhill for a while before we level out. So you can have a bit of a rest.’
‘Cool,’ said Mina, keen to try out the technique for turning in the tracks that Luke had taught her. So far they’d been going in a straight line, which was great for practising, but she was ready for something new.
As they neared the trees, the incline got a little steeper and she focused on her skis rather than looking ahead. She could do this. It was just a question of willpower. Not looking how much further there was to go always helped when she ran. Digging in deeper, she forced herself to work harder to get up the last bit of the hill and completely failed to see that Luke was slowing down. Before she knew it she was almost on top of his skis.
‘Oh no! Luke,’ she called, realising that her momentum was such, she wasn’t going to be able to stop in time, even if she could remember how.
He turned and saw her but there wasn’t enough time fo
r him to take evasive action and she caught one of his skis with hers. In a slow motion tangle of limbs, she pitched forward taking Luke with her, her boots snapping, as they were supposed to, out of her skis.
‘Sor—’ Her apology died as she grabbed him around the waist and the two of them rolled to the side of the track. The icy touch of snow worked its way down her neck and her hat was wrenched off, and she found herself lying on top of Luke, her hair flopping into his face.
She drew in a quick breath. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry. Are you OK?’
‘We must stop meeting like this.’ He grinned up at her. ‘I think your knees are almost as pointy as you’re elbows, and one of them is about to unman me.’
‘Ouch, I’m sorry.’ In her haste to roll off him, somehow she took him with her, so that they were now side-by-side facing each other in the snow, looking at each other. The silence pressed in on them and inexorably like a pair of magnets they gave in to the pull. Mina couldn’t honestly have said who moved first, but she did know she sighed when his soft lips landed on hers with an unexpected but thrilling sense of familiarity.
Despite lying in the snow, her bones turned liquid, and inside her ski clothes she felt deliciously warm. Luke’s mouth was gentle and unhurried as his lips explored hers and it was just like before, that gorgeous sensation of stepping into a sunbeam, all that golden warmth directed full on her.
When his tongue touched hers, a spark of electric lust shocked every bit of her, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped and sounded horribly loud in the snow-muffled landscape.
Luke groaned in response and deepened the kiss and they were lost for another few minutes before he finally pulled away and rested his head on her forehead.