The Little Swiss Ski Chalet

by Julie Caplin

  ‘Any idea what?’

  She lifted her hands palms upward. ‘Now that is the fifty-million dollar question. I haven’t a clue.’ She thought of the self-help book lying abandoned upstairs – she was going to have to give the blasted thing some serious attention.

  There were only four for dinner, or rather five once Mina had persuaded Amelie to join her, Luke, Claudia, and Frank. Everyone else had left to catch their trains to go back to the cities. For a fondue, it was the perfect number, as they were able to crowd around one of the smaller round tables near the glowing fire in the dining room, with the fondue pot in the middle.

  ‘What do you call this?’ asked Mina, keen to learn as always, pointing to the ceramic pan on top of the little burner.

  ‘It’s a caquelon,’ explained Amelie. ‘Do start.’ She gestured to the two large bowls filled with cubes of bread. ‘In the old days, this was a way of using up stale bread and making the cheese go a little further. These days it’s quite a rich dish, as I use Gruyère and Vacherin Fribourgeois, which is a lovely semi-soft cheese and quite difficult to find, as it’s still traditionally made by hand.’

  Mina took one of the long forks and stabbed one of the cubes of bread, watching as Frank went first. With an expert twist of his wrist he managed to bring the bread to his mouth without dripping a drop. She wasn’t sure she’d be that successful, but as her mouth watered, greed nudged table manners into second place and she dipped her bread into the rich yellow sauce. Unfortunately she didn’t quite have Frank’s knack, and the moment she took the bread out of the pot and started to bring it to her mouth, it fell off spattering the tablecloth. So near, so far. Everyone around the table paused.

  ‘When I was a student, if you dropped the bread, you had to kiss the nearest person to you,’ said Claudia with a sudden smile and flashing a quick knowing look at her husband.

  ‘When I was a student, I remember certain women who might have be known to drop their bread for that very reason,’ replied Frank, his eyes warming as they rested on Claudia.

  She shrugged, a mischievous smile lighting her eyes. ‘It worked.’

  Mina smiled and said glibly, reaching for a fresh piece of bread, ‘Poor Luke, I think this might be your unlucky night.’ Although there was a sudden warmth inside her at the thought of kissing Luke again.

  ‘I’ll cope,’ he said, laughing as she managed to scoop her second attempt into her mouth.

  ‘Well, you’ll be kissing a lot of people if you are tempted to use fresh bread,’ said Amelie. ‘I cut and cubed yesterday’s bread this morning and left it to dry out. It keeps its shape much better, otherwise it does fall from the fork, often in the pot. I remember my mother doing that once. She thought it would be better to serve fresh bread, she was worried what people would think if she served stale bread to them.’

  ‘Mmm, this is so delicious,’ murmured Mina, already dipping another piece of bread. ‘I’m going to have to buy myself a caquelon to take back.’ She could already imagine setting it up on a winter’s evening in her flat, with a few select friends that wouldn’t include Belinda or Simon – except now the thought of going home didn’t hold so much appeal.

  ‘And easy,’ sighed Amelie sitting back in her chair, stifling a yawn. Mina was glad they’d persuaded her to join them. She suspected Amelie might not have eaten this evening if she hadn’t insisted she join them.

  ‘Monday nights are my favourites,’ said Luke. ‘And Sundays actually.’

  ‘Not school nights?’ asked Mina, as she’d got teacher friends for whom Sunday nights were filled with dread.

  ‘No.’ Luke batted a hand as if pushing that idea away. ‘You can chill after a good weekend. Reflect on how great it’s been, and then you have the promise of a bright shiny new week ahead. A chance to start again, put things right, or just look forward to new experiences.’

  ‘That’s a lovely attitude, Luke,’ said Claudia.

  ‘Very positive,’ said Mina, quite struck by what he’d said.

  ‘As long as you’ve had a good weekend,’ said Frank a little gloomily, although Claudia tapped him on the forearm in rebuke.

  Luke shrugged. ‘Bad things happen, but you can’t let them scar you. You can’t stop them, but you can choose how you react to them. You can choose to be positive or negative, happy or sad, angry or calm. None of us have any control over what life is going to throw at us, but if we respond in a positive manner we can make our lives so much better.’ He paused as he realised that everyone was hanging on his words.

  Mina wondered if perhaps she ought to be listening to him, rather than her self-help book.

  ‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to get on my soapbox.’ He smiled at Mina, ‘I’m really looking forward to the week ahead.’

  She smiled back. Snowboarding. Going shopping with Amelie. Just being here in the mountains. Her week was looking pretty good too.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mina stood and stared. Her eyes scanned the broad shopping aisle, trying to take it in, every square inch of every single shelf devoted to chocolate. Never, in her entire life, had she seen so much chocolate in one place. Every variety, size, and type of bar possible was represented: chocolate bars with hazelnuts, rice crispies, honeycomb, and raisins; chocolate bars flavoured with orange, mint, and coffee; chocolate pralines; chocolate sticks; chocolate tiles; big bags, small bags; chunky bars, slim bars. The plethora of brands in rainbow colours was mind-boggling, some of which she’d never heard of, as well as the familiar; the purple packs of Milka, the boxes of Merci, and the airport favourite, Toblerone.

  She turned open-mouthed to Amelie, unable to say a word.

  ‘Why don’t I leave you to explore for a while? I’ll go and do some shopping.’ Amelie gave her an amused smile.

  They’d set off early, leaving breakfast out for the guests, and Johannes on call if they needed anything, and driven to Brig in Amelie’s big VW Passat estate to stock up for the week at the wholesalers, Prodega.

  Visiting an overseas supermarket ranked high as Mina’s idea of heaven as she loved seeing the different products. Coming back on the channel tunnel from the very occasional camping trip to Normandy, she’d always insisted that her parents stop at the big Carrefour just so that she could get her fix. They would sit patiently outside with a bottle of beer each while she prowled the supermarket, fascinated by different-shaped pastas, weird and wonderful tinned vegetables, incredible salamis and cheeses, bowled over by the sheer selection of yoghurts and desserts.

  The sight of all that chocolate strengthened her resolve to talk to Johannes – she wanted to know more She had to persuade him to let her watch him making his products. There was nothing like first-hand experience when you wanted to learn about something. She’d been on dozens of courses, sourdough breadmaking, fish filleting, French patisserie, knife skills, as well as the more dull hygiene and environmental health courses – you name it, she’d done it. This was her chance to learn about chocolate.

  She caught up with Amelie in the bakery section, which smelled tantalising. ‘This place is amazing. Everything looks so good.’ The shelves were packed with glistening loaves of Zopf, a soft egg-washed plaited bread that Amelie served for breakfast, along with seed-topped loaves, golden rolls and a range of flaky croissants and other pastries.

  ‘It is. The quality is excellent and it makes my life easier. I sometimes cheat and buy their fresh baked goods because their pastries are excellent, although I try not.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s cheating. You can’t do everything.’

  Amelie lifted her shoulders but didn’t say anything. Once again Mina thought she looked tired.

  ‘Seriously, if the quality is good, you should give yourself a break sometimes. Why make life more difficult for yourself?’

  Amelie laughed. ‘You’re quite right. I am my own worst enemy. Silly. I don’t know why I can’t let go, sometimes.’

  ‘Because it’s your pride and joy, and your reputation rests on it,’ said Mina, inwardly symp
athising. It was hard to let go when you’d worked hard at something.

  ‘It was a dream for so long.’ Amelie sighed and rubbed at the bar of the shopping trolley. ‘One that I never really thought would come true, if I’m honest. Dieter and I talked about it, but I’m not sure we’d ever have left Basel or have been prepared to make the changes to make it happen. It was one of those “one day” ideas. When we were retired, or ready to retire. The truth is, I think if we’d retired we would have been less likely to move, to leave our friends, the life we knew. It makes me sad that Dieter never saw it, and that he died too soon. He was only fifty-seven.’ She shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. ‘I do miss him. But then again, if he hadn’t died when he did, I wouldn’t be here. His dying was the impetus to make me move, open the guest house, and do the things we talked about, even if it took me a few years to make it happen.’

  Mina put her arm around her godmother. ‘I know he would have been very proud of what you’ve achieved. All the guests love the chalet. That’s why they keep coming back.’

  ‘Thank you. Right.’ Mina almost felt Amelie girding her loins as the other woman glanced into the trolley which was already piled high with several boxes of eggs, a couple of large bags of sugar, icing sugar, and flour, as well as several packs of butter. ‘Have you decided what ingredients you need for your recipes?’

  Realising that the subject was closed, Mina took her cue. ‘I need some sort of cherry purée, but it’s probably best if I make it from whole cherries, which are clearly not yet in season.’

  ‘No problem. You can either buy frozen, or there are some good-quality coulis.’ They spent a little while debating the pros and cons before opting to buy extra frozen cherries, as Amelie used them in her Kirschenbrottorte.

  They wrapped up the shopping trip with hot chocolate and pastries on the lively Bahnhofstrasse, where Mina learned a little bit about the busy town. Brig had grown and expanded thanks to its unique location at the head of the famous Simplon Pass, which cut through the mountains all the way to Italy.

  By the time they returned to the chalet, the car was piled high with fresh sheets and towels that they’d picked up from the laundry and a week’s supply of shopping.

  ‘Hello ladies,’ said Luke who greeted them at the foot of the stairs. He looked as if he were just going out. ‘Successful trip?’

  ‘Very,’ said Mina, already thinking about her cherry-flavoured meringues.

  Amelie hopped out of the car, opened up the boot, and took out the first bundle of towels.

  Mina rushed to join her and Luke put down his skis and poles. ‘Let me give you a hand.’

  ‘Oh, it’s fine. Don’t you worry,’ said Amelie. ‘Where are you going this afternoon?’

  Luke ignored her and was already moving around to the back of the car and lifting out the heaviest crate of shopping before saying. ‘I’m taking it easy today, just taking the track to Münster. So I’ve got plenty time.’

  ‘Alright for some,’ said Johannes, stamping his way over, knocking snow from his hiking boots. Without another word, he lifted one of the boxes of shopping from the car and carried it inside.

  From his timely appearance, Mia suspected that he’d been lying in wait and often helped Amelie with the shopping. She watched him navigate the path with the heavy box, shouldering his way through the front door ahead of Luke, before she picked up the plastic-wrapped stack of sheets from the back seat of the car. The slippery package was difficult to grasp and she was grateful when Luke met her at the top of the stairs and took it from her arms. Johannes pushed past, head down, ready to get the next load.

  With Luke and Johannes helping, it didn’t take too long to unload the car, although Mina built up a sheen of sweat with all three trips up the stairs into the chalet.

  Johannes muttered, ‘Das Alles?’ which she guessed meant, is that everything?

  Amelie nodded but then reached out and grabbed his forearm. ‘Thank you so much, Johannes. I don’t know what I’d do with you.’ Mina was struck by the quick glint of gratification in his eye.

  ‘Right, well if you don’t need any further help, I’m away,’ said Luke. ‘Mina, are you still up for snowboarding tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, if that’s still OK?’

  ‘Sure. About ten o’clock. I’ve got a Skype call first thing, but then I’m all yours.’ His eyes sparkled in sudden flirtation.

  ‘Make sure you are,’ Mina replied, thinking that two could play that game. Flirting was like breathing to someone like Luke, he couldn’t help himself.

  He grinned at her and disappeared out of the door with a casual wave. ‘See you later.’

  Amelie watched him go. ‘I think he likes you.’

  ‘Of course he does,’ said Mina with a quick jokey smile.

  ‘You don’t like him?’ Amelie frowned.

  ‘I do but he’s… well, he’s not someone you’d take seriously. But he is a lot of fun, and I enjoy his company.’

  ‘There’s a bit more to him than you realise.’ Amelie shot her a sharp sidelong glance.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Mina. She knew Luke’s type, she knew it inside out. He might as well have been her twin. They could have a lot of fun together, but it was never going to go any further than that. Before Simon, she’d had plenty of fun, and look at how those relationships had turned out. Jon owed her money, Jake stood her up more times than not, and Phil had abandoned her halfway up a Welsh mountain. Fun was not part of her future plans.

  Once she and Amelie had put the shopping away, loaded up the linen cupboard with the bouncy, fresh-smelling towels and the crisp cotton sheets, and had a quick baguette with slices of Emmental and cured ham, Mina rolled up her sleeves and got out her notebook. She’d worked out the ratios of ingredients, but how much cherry purée she’d need to add to get enough flavour without wrecking the texture of the meringue was going to be down to trial and error. First of all she cooked up a pan of the frozen cherries to reduce them down, adding a little sugar, but not too much, as she wanted to retain the tartness of the fruit, which would balance against the sweetness of the meringue.

  Amelie was fascinated by the process, and while she was making that evening’s dinner, a pork and bean stew, would occasionally ask a question.

  ‘Do you want some kirsch in there?’

  Mina shook her head. ‘No. I want sharp fruitiness. But I might try it the next time.’

  ‘Next time?’

  ‘I’ll try lots of different variations of the purée once I’m happy with the ratio of purée to meringue.’ She explained that she’d decided to make up one large batch of basic meringue mix and then divide it into four and add different amounts of purée so that she could work out which was going to work best. ‘I’m going to need a couple of guinea pigs to do some taste-testing for me. Then I’m thinking about trying to make a chocolate mousse meringue.’

  Amelie laughed. ‘Well, you’re not going to have to look very far. You can try them out on the guests at coffee and cake.’

  ‘Are you sure? They might get sick of cherry meringue quite soon.’

  ‘How many times will you make it?’

  ‘It depends. I’m hopeful four batches will crack it. The main thing is to make sure I write down the exact quantities, so that I can remember what did work.’

  Amelie studied her for a moment before saying with a gentle shake of her head, ‘I’m surprised you have that much patience.’

  ‘Surprises everyone,’ replied Mina with a grin. ‘When it comes to getting it right, I don’t mind doing it over and over again. Ask me to do that with anything else and I know I’d get bored. Food is different. I love the science of it. And knowing that things respond in certain ways under certain conditions. Baking is very scientific and recipes have to be very precise.’

  ‘You should write a recipe book.’

  ‘I’ve thought about it but…’ She shrugged. ‘There are hundreds. What would be different about mine?’

  ‘I don’t know, but a resou
rceful girl like you could come up with something, I’m sure.’

  Mina wasn’t so sure. It was a crowded market, with celebrity chefs taking the lead. She’d often thought about starting a food blog, but then she needed something unique, a hook that would make it different. And did she have the discipline? Was it something she really wanted to do? It seemed she was really good at working out what she didn’t want to do. Just not so good at identifying what she did want to do.

  The afternoon passed quickly, and before she knew it, four o’clock was almost upon them.

  ‘My new arrivals will be here any minute,’ said Amelie. ‘The ones I was telling you about.’

  ‘The ones you want my opinion on,’ said Mina, stretching and rolling her shoulders, which were complaining about her being hunched over the kitchen table for too long.

  ‘Yes,’ replied Amelie with a naughty twinkle in her bright eyes, tilting her head as if listening. ‘And I think that might be them.’

  She hurried out of the kitchen door into the reception area and Mina followed.

  ‘David, watch where you’re going.’ A slight, dark-haired woman rolling her eyes stepped forward as her husband managed to bash one of his cases into the leather sofa, narrowly missing the German teenager sitting head-bent over her phone. ‘So sorry,’ she said to the girl who didn’t so much as look up, before glowering back at the unfortunate David. ‘You are useless.’

  Mina caught Amelie’s eye but Amelie had perfected her poker face and simply smiled.

  ‘Sarah and David, welcome back. How lovely to see you.’

  ‘Huh, are you sure? With David wrecking your furniture. I hope there isn’t a tear in the leather. He’s so clumsy.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be fine. How was your journey?’

  Sarah’s mouth pursed. ‘Fine. Except David had booked the early flight instead of the mid-morning one, so we had to get up at silly o’clock and now I feel exhausted.’