by Julie Caplin
‘Oh my goodness.’ Mina whipped her phone out of her pocket. ‘I need to get a picture of this for Uncle D. He would love it.’ Taking a few snaps for the family WhatsApp group, she waited a minute, absorbing the atmosphere on the platform. It was both sedate and festive, an unusual combination – as if people wanted to respect the old-fashioned stateliness of the Pullman carriages at the same time as containing their excitement and anticipation for the forthcoming trip.
Luke linked his arm through hers, as always in complete accord.
‘Wonderful, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ she said, because it really was. ‘I’m so glad you went ahead and booked.’
‘I was a bit worried that perhaps I might have been a bit presumptuous.’
‘Look at this.’ She swept out an arm to indicate the train. ‘Who would want to miss this?’ She paused, remembering her brief moment of ingratitude, before adding, ‘Thank you so much for organising this. It’s a real treat.’ Giving in to sudden impulse she rose on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. As soon as her lips touched his smooth skin and she smelled the fresh, clean-with-a hint-of-lemon scent of him, she wondered why she was fighting her attraction for him so hard. He was gorgeous, sexy, fun to be with, and made her heart beat faster every damn minute she was with him. Why not just give in and accept that there was something between them? Instead of focusing on worrying about what she didn’t want, perhaps she should just live for the moment, like he seemed to do. She’d brought that stupid self-help book with her, which was no flipping help at all, because they’d be spending a long time on the train – but suddenly she was wondering whether it really was worth reading any more. But she wasn’t going to worry about that now, instead she was going to take the day as it came, enjoy every minute – after all, cheese and chocolate, and a day with Luke sounded pretty perfect to her.
They boarded the train and found their reserved seats in one of the vintage coaches which immediately made Mina think of film sets and Poirot. She reached out to touch the plush, roomy, velvet seats, her foot scuffing real carpet on the floor.
‘This is…’ She stared at the polished brass luggage racks on the walls. ‘Deluxe travel.’ Each seat was more like an armchair, and as Mina sat down opposite Luke, she took out her phone again to take more pictures. Uncle D would just adore this, she had to persuade him and Auntie M to take a trip out here.
There was a palpable air of excitement as people boarded and found their seats.
‘Thank you again, I can’t believe, how gorgeous it is,’ whispered Mina. ‘I’m going to have to try and persuade my aunt and uncle to come. Uncle D would get such a kick out of this.’ She beamed as she snapped away examining every inch of their seating area, running her hands over the glossy pull-up table, and rubbing her fingers against the nap of the velvet to darken it. Any moment she expected a troop of glamorous 1920s passengers to come gliding past, the women in elegant fashionable fur trimmed coats and cute cloche hats, and the men in smart tweed suits and trilbys.
‘I feel like we should have dressed up,’ she observed, picturing herself in a cherry-red bow-fronted hat.
‘Yes,’ said Luke. ‘That would be fun. Providing it wasn’t lederhosen.’
She laughed and nudged him. ‘No, you idiot. I was thinking more Murder on the Orient Express.’
He laughed along with her.
‘Well, this looks like fun,’ said a cheery voice, and to Mina’s surprise, Uta appeared.
‘Hello! What are you doing here?’ she asked.
‘I had holiday time, and it sounded fun. Kristian and Bernhardt are coming too. It’s one of the things you always think about doing and never do. So here we are.’ Uta’s sunny smile encompassed the two of them, and Mina found herself smiling back, although inside she felt a tug of disappointment. She didn’t dare look at Luke. Had he felt the promise of the day shimmering in the air back on the platform?
‘Here you are.’ Bernhardt’s hearty cry rang out. ‘No sign of Kristian yet?’
Luke stood up, shook Bernhardt’s hand, and subtly changed seats to sit down next to Mina while Uta was sorting herself out, taking off her coat and unravelling a very long scarf.
Just before the train was about to depart, Kristian came charging along the train and almost walked past them without seeing them. It was only Uta calling him that made him slow his flustered, agitated pace. He collapsed in the seat on the other side of the aisle, his chest heaving.
‘Thought I wasn’t going to make it. Tight connection.’ He fanned his pink face, peeling his ski jacket off before grinning at everyone. ‘Here we all are. Isn’t this fun? My mum wanted to come. Good job she didn’t I’m not sure she’d have made that run.’
Mina couldn’t help but smile. There was something adorably dorkish about Kristian and she felt Luke nudge her knee as if in conspiratorial agreement. Bernhardt, on the other hand, rolled his eyes. Just then the train pulled out from the station and Uta clapped her hands. ‘We’re off.’
Mina laughed. ‘It feels like we’re on a school trip.’ There was a definite sense of anticipation throughout the carriage. They weren’t the only ones excited by the thought of cheese and chocolate.
‘I did go to a cheese factory on a trip once,’ volunteered Kristian. ‘It was really boring.’ Everyone looked at him, Bernhardt rolled his eyes again, and Uta shook her head. ‘I didn’t like cheese then,’ he protested, holding up his hands in surrender, realising that he’d said the wrong thing.
‘I love cheese,’ said Mina. ‘But I love chocolate more.’ They all laughed at her dreamy sigh. ‘No, seriously. Chocolate has a magic about it, don’t you think?’
Next to her, Luke tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.
‘Er, hello. Who insisted on having half my chocolate bar, the very first time I met you?’
‘I was hungry.’ He nudged her thigh with his, but left it pressed against hers, as if wanting to remind her of the intimacy of that first train journey.
She tutted. ‘How many people do you know who really don’t like chocolate?’
Uta shook her head and so did Bernhardt, while Kristian screwed up his face in thought.
‘I have a great-aunt who doesn’t like coffee-flavoured chocolate,’ he finally announced.
‘That doesn’t count,’ said Bernhardt, quick to depress his comment. ‘I think most people do like chocolate.’ He gave Mina a charming smile. ‘Does that make it magic?’
‘It’s the theobromide,’ said Luke, as if producing a rabbit from a hat.
Mina chuckled. ‘Theobromine, but nice try. Actually that’s a stimulant like caffeine, but there are a number of chemicals in chocolate, including a neurotransmitter, anandamide, which comes from the Sanskrit for joy or bliss. It stimulates the brain in a similar way to cannabis.’
‘Not just a pretty face,’ said Bernhardt, with an admiring look at her. ‘I’m very impressed.’
From the seat opposite, Uta did a very bad job of hiding her smirk at his slightly pompous words.
‘I’m a food scientist. Lots of chemicals in foods. Although to be honest, the ones in chocolate are mere traces, you’d have to eat a hell of a lot of chocolate to get high. It’s the sugar that people are really tasting. But there’s something about the smooth texture of chocolate and the smell.’
‘We get it, you’re a chocolate junkie,’ said Uta. ‘Talking of which, look what’s headed our way.’ She nodded towards the very smiley lady bringing coffee and croissants through the carriage pushing a trolley.
‘You can’t possibly eat another croissant,’ teased Mina, as Luke selected a pain au chocolat. They’d had two on the journey here from Brig, although admittedly they had left at five in the morning. Poor Johannes had been co-opted into driving them to the station.
‘Watch me. I’m a growing boy.’
‘I guess I burned a million calories yesterday,’ said Mina, selecting one for herself.
‘Were you skiing?’ asked Bernhardt. ‘I was at a desk all day.’
‘Sorry, yes. It was a gorgeous day. The air here feels so fresh, I just want to be outdoors all the time.’
‘You’ve been lucky with the weather so far,’ said Luke. ‘There are days when it’s a white-out and you can’t get out. Too many of those days and people start getting cabin fever, especially people who have come up just to ski.’
Mina glanced up at the bright blue sky, realising that she’d been extremely lucky with the weather since she’d been here. All that snow, piled inches deep on the roofs of the houses, looking so picturesque and harmless, had to have come from somewhere. Would it snow while she was still here? Although everyone at the ski chalet discussed the weather for the coming day almost obsessively, she hadn’t once thought about checking the forecast while she was here. She wondered if the village ever got snowed in.
She looked out of the train window; they’d left the snow behind today. As their train from Brig had travelled nearer to Montreux, the snow had gradually melted away. Funny, in just a short space of time she’d forgotten what green fields looked like. The train moved at a steady speed and they all quietened as they munched their croissants and drank hot milky chocolate. Leaning back in her seat, she watched the beautiful countryside, feeling a delicious lassitude and sense of peace.
The track edged along the side of a steep hill and across the valley, dramatic tree-covered peaks, with lines of dark firs clinging to the contours of the landscape, bordered the skyline. The sharp points of the trees were crowded together like indomitable battalions of centurions standing on guard. Mina craned her neck a little to take in the pretty village that came into view, struck by the vibrant colours of the day. The orange terracotta tiles covering the familiar inverted V-shaped roofs, contrasted beautifully with the rich green of the fields and, above, the brilliant blue of the sky. A single church like a benign angel dominated the village, its whitewashed walls with their long, tall windows towering over the nearby houses, the impressive large square tower topped with a black dome which looked as if it were watching over the village and all who lived there.
A few fawn, doe-eyed cows grazed in the field alongside the track, some looking up, although with marked disinterest. The colours suggested spring was on its way. What would Reckingen be like in the spring, in the summer? Mina frowned for a moment. She didn’t want to go home. She’d completely fallen in love with this country. The sudden realisation stabbed right through her with such intensity that she actually gasped out loud.
‘You OK?’ asked Luke. The others busy chatting hadn’t noticed.
‘Yes. No. I’m not sure,’ she said, a little discombobulated by the absolute conviction that filled her. She wanted to stay in Switzerland. In Reckingen. She wanted to see the seasons change, be outside as much as she could, ski, walk and cook.
‘That sounds confusing.’ He put a hand over hers, hidden from sight between them.
She gave him a brilliant smile. ‘No, it’s not confusing at all. It’s…’ She paused. ‘Perfect. I know what I want to do.’ And suddenly all the reasons for keeping him at arm’s length didn’t seem quite so important now.
‘Always good,’ said Luke, clearly not understanding – and why should he? He hadn’t been trying to make sense of that bloody book for the last few days.
She pulled it out of her bag. ‘This. I’ve identified all the things I don’t want to do, but I was having a hard time deciding what I did want to do.’
Luke looked thoroughly confused. ‘Why do you need a book to do that? Isn’t it simple? You do the things that make you happy. That make you feel glad to be alive. And avoid the things that don’t. If you’re not happy, you change things. Only you can do that.’
She stared at him. She’d spent far too much time thinking about what she didn’t want to do, because she hadn’t known what really made her happy. Suddenly it all seemed so obvious. She just had to work out how she was going to accomplish it – but she was a great believer in where-there’s-a will-there’s-a way.
‘Excuse me, I need to go to the loo.’ She stood up, pushed the book into her bag, and strode down the carriage with a sense of purpose. A few carriages down, by one of the doors, she pushed down the window and took in several deep breaths. Funny, it seemed so simple. She didn’t have to go back to Manchester. That was her starting point, everything else would come to her. She pulled the book from her bag and stared at it, before lifting it towards the window. The breeze riffled the pages but then the words of an old anti-litter campaign popped into her head – ‘don’t be a tosser’ – and much as she wanted rid of the book, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she walked to the far end of the train and left it on a table in an empty section of one of the modern carriages at the end of the train. Maybe someone else might find a use for it.
Mina was quite surprised when the train began to slow and everyone began to gather their things together.
‘I thought we’d be on here for hours,’ she said.
‘No, we transfer here onto a coach which takes up to the village of Gruyères,’ Bernhardt informed her. He had done his homework, of course he had. She, as usual, had decided to go with the flow and enjoy the day. It was rather nice not being in charge for once. She was the one that normally planned trips – or, as Hannah said, ‘she was the bossy one’.
Everyone on the coach was all smiles and as she walked along the aisle, Mina heard snippets of Canadian English, Australian English, Italian, Spanish, and German. It all felt rather jolly, with everyone united in a common goal, to go forth and discover cheese and chocolate. Funny how the little things united people.
‘It’s all so beautiful,’ she said with a contented sigh as the coach wound up the hill, the road spliced with shards of sunshine that cut through the trees.
‘It sure beats being at work,’ agreed Uta from the seat in front of her.
‘If you look up there you can see Cape au Moine, it’s in the regional nature park.’ Bernhardt, who’d snagged the seat next to her, leaned over her and pointed at a jagged, tree-clad peak.
‘Right,’ said Mina, a little bemused and amused. Bernhardt seemed determined to entertain and impress her. She’d noticed a couple of times, that he’d tried to enlighten her in his earnest way. Unfortunately, despite his genuine desire to please, it came across as ever so slightly patronising.
Luke, sitting with Kristian on the seats opposite, smiled but didn’t comment, and a small part of Mina wished for about the fifth time that it was just the two of them today.
Mina had done many factory trips in her time, it was part of her job to visit the places from where they sourced ingredients, but she had to admit that the Gruyère factory was extremely slick and efficient as well as astounding.
‘I love it when a food product has real provenence,’ commented Mina, as they began the tour.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Uta.
‘Well, they’ve been making this cheese since 1115 and it’s only made here. I think in this day and age, that’s really amazing. A lot of cheese, like cheddar in England, is produced all over the place in factories. But this has to be made here because the cow’s milk is unique to the local area, because they eat grasses and herbs that grow high up in the alpine meadows. And it’s been made for nearly a thousand years. How incredible is that?’
‘Incredible,’ agreed Uta with a smirk. ‘You’re really into all this.’
‘How can you not be?’ Mina wrinkled her nose. ‘I know, it’s just my thing.’
Despite the others teasing her, Mina’s favourite fact of the day was that the staff who turned the wheels in the vast storeroom talked to the cheese Apparently it was tradition for people, rather than robots, as in other factories, to turn the cheese because, as a living thing, it needed that human touch.
‘That has tickled me,’ said Mina. ‘I will never think of Gruyère in the same way again. Do you think people offload their problems? “My wife’s left me. My daughter’s pregnant.” Do you think the flavour is a little bit influenced by
what they’ve heard?’
Luke slung a casual arm around her shoulder. ‘I have no idea, but it’s one of the best stories I’ve heard in a long time, and I love that it appeals so much to you. You really are a bit of a nerd about food.’
Pleased that he got it, she leaned into him, allowing herself the treat of being close to him. ‘Hell, yes. Derek says I’m the trainspotting equivalent. I don’t think I’m that dull, do you?’ She winked at him.
‘No,’ said Luke, giving her a quick squeeze. ‘Definitely not that dull at all. Although I happen to like trains a lot.’ In that moment, as their eyes met in complete understanding, she really regretted the presence of the others.
Once the tour was done, they piled back into the bus, each of them sporting a bag of cheese – although Luke had been a lot more restrained. ‘I’ll share yours,’ he joked to Mina, this time making sure he bagged the seat next to her. Bernhardt narrowed his eyes and quickly sat down next to Uta, leaving Kristian on his own, although he’d buttonholed a young Australian couple and was chatting away to them. Mina watched out of the corner of her eye, hoping that some of Amelie’s training might have rubbed off. As both were smiling, she decided he was talking cheese rather than the principles of European patent law.
The sudden competitiveness of Bernhardt worried her as much as it amused Uta, who’d murmured, ‘I think he likes you,’ when they stepped off the bus into the village of Gruyères.
‘Mm,’ said Mina not wanting to dwell upon it. Luckily the group was stopped in their tracks by the first glimpse of the village proper.
It was, decided Mina, quite possibly the most picturesque place she had ever seen. There was even a walled castle perched on the side of the mountain overlooking the village. The main cobbled street was lined with white-painted medieval buildings protected bywide overhanging tiled roofs. Each of them was immaculate; some with neat shutters flanking the windows and others with precision-planted window boxes filled with spring daffodils and crocuses, their heads dancing in the light breeze. A couple of the houses had well-trained and -trimmed broad-leaved ivy climbing the walls, the spring green contrasting against the whitewashed walls.