by Julie Caplin
‘I’d ask you to come but… that wouldn’t be fair.’
She closed her eyes. He understood. She’d found what she wanted to do, and it was everything and more. She loved him even more for his understanding and sensitivity.’
‘Where’s the posting?’
He scrunched up his face. ‘On a research ship heading to the Galapagos. It will allow us to see first-hand the environmental work they’re doing, and it will help inform the future environmental agenda. That’s the official line, but it is an incredible opportunity.’
‘Oh my God, Luke.’ Her eyes widened, once again realising that there was so much more to Luke than his modest exterior let on. ‘That is amazing. If I Google you, are you quite a big deal?’
He shrugged. ‘Not really.’
She raised an eyebrow.
‘I’m quite well-respected in my field.’
‘So when you said you were between postings…’
‘I knew this was a possibility, but it’s such a competitive field, and it’s a major expedition. Part of me is chuffed to be offered…’ He winced and cupped her face with both hands. ‘But another part wishes they’d picked someone else.’ His shoulders shifted again and she saw in the tiny movement the weight of his unhappiness. ‘I could turn it down.’
‘No! No you couldn’t.’ She grabbed his forearms. ‘You absolutely couldn’t.’
His face softened. ‘Being honest. No, I can’t.’ He closed his eyes.
She reached for his hand and squeezed it, trying to comfort him. It hurt more than she could have imagined, watching Luke fighting his own pain, and her stomach tightened in knots.
‘When I was ill, I promised myself that if I ever got better, I would make the most of every minute of my life. There was a time when I thought I would die. I made a pact. If I lived, I would take every opportunity. Live life to the full. So although this will do amazing things for my career, it’s also an adventure, a chance I might never get again.’
‘Oh God, Luke. You couldn’t turn that down. I completely get that.’ Part of her was humbled that he’d even considered it. She felt a touch of guilt. Would she consider giving up what was so close at hand? They were, as she’d always known, two of a kind. Ready for new adventures, but also the type of people that needed challenge and motivation to lead fulfilling lives.
It hurt. Playing fair was too hard.
‘Luke, you don’t need to feel bad. You can’t turn something like this down.’
‘But…’
‘There are no buts. I wouldn’t expect you to ask me to give up my plans, and I know you wouldn’t.’
‘I couldn’t, not when I see how much they mean to you but…’ He slapped a frustrated a hand. ‘Timing, eh? It’s shit. You know I love you.’
‘I know. And I love you. More than anyone before.’
‘Sucks, doesn’t it? I knew, that first time on the train.’ His mouth scrunched into a grim line. ‘And that makes it worse.’ He reached for her hand. ‘But I still believe in serendipity. That we met for a reason.’
Mina smiled at him. ‘I’ve found what I was looking for here. I think some of that is thanks to you. Your positive attitude has made me see that you need to embrace life and go for what you want. How long will you be gone for?’
‘I have to go back to the UK for an orientation period of between four and six weeks, and then it’s weather-dependent when we set off. It sounds pretty intensive. We’ll be away for anywhere between a year and eighteen months.’
She nodded. Who knew what could happen in that length of time? Look how much her life had changed in two short weeks.
‘I can’t make any promises, and I don’t want to.’ He waved a hand at the mobile phone on the side. With a flash of insight, she realised. No contact. No texts. No messages. And she understood, completely. They both had to get on with their lives. A cruel double-edged sword.
‘What will be, will be. Let’s leave it in the hands of serendipity,’ said Mina, attempting a smile. Ironic, really, that in Luke she had found her kindred spirit and a shared passion for life, enthusiasm for adventure, and suddenly the positive outlook that had fuelled their initial attraction had to be dialled back and squashed. Now she understood what Simon had meant: sometimes, fun wasn’t enough.
His fingers finally curled around hers and squeezed her hand.
‘Thank you.’ Luke kissed her on the cheek, their eyes meeting and a thousand unsaid things passed between them making her heart fizz with sorrow. ‘Shall we just tell ourselves we’ll leave things to fate?’
‘To serendipity?’ she asked with a lift of one eyebrow.
He kissed her on the lips and put his arm around her shoulders.
Together they sat in silence watching the snow fall.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Later that night, invited by Mina, Luke came to her bed and they said goodbye under the cover of darkness.
The following morning, she watched dry-eyed from the balcony as he walked down to the station, rucksack on his back, vintage suitcase in hand, without a backward glance.
Part Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘I’m sure this wasn’t what you signed up for this weekend,’ teased Mina, pushing her roller through the paint in the paint tray, ready to apply the final touches the to the wall she was working on.
‘Not quite, but when it’s snowing like this I’d rather be doing something,’ replied Bernhardt, who was filling in the tricky masking-taped bits around the big pine skirting boards and the light switches. ‘After all,’ he added in his usual dry way, ‘it’s better than sitting by a roaring log fire with a good book.’
Mina grinned at him. ‘I’m very grateful.’
‘And don’t forget we get extra cake rations,’ said Kristian, who was applying the final coat of cream paint to the walls in the kitchen area.
‘There is that,’ said Bernhardt with a wry smile.
Mina wasn’t sure that extra cake really made up for helping with painting, it seemed above and beyond the call of duty as a guest, but when they’d offered to help, Amelie had encouraged them, sending Johannes off for extra rollers and paint trays, and Mina wasn’t going to turn down a spare pair of hands or two. Kristian had actually turned out to be quite skilled.
She stepped back to study the paint colour for the fiftieth time. She really did love this forest green feature wall; it added an extra je ne sais quoi to the room.
‘It’s looking great already,’ said Bernhardt, coming to stand next to her. ‘I can’t believe how much you’ve achieved since we were last here, four weeks ago. You’re a human whirlwind.’ He shot her an admiring glance.
‘I’m not sure about that. It helps that Johannes knows every tradesman for fifty miles around, and that they all seem to owe him favours.’
‘You do know that it’s mainly curiosity.’
‘Curiosity?’ Mina frowned while Bernhardt gave a superior teasing smirk.
‘They want to see the woman who felled him. Johannes has been famously single for years. They’re also partial to cake.’
‘Tell me about it.’ She giggled. Her version of Solothurner torte had been rechristened Reckingener torte and had become a huge hit, especially with the plumber who’d put in the new cloakroom and the electrician that had rewired the barn and put up the most wonderful bronze dome pendant lights throughout the café area. She’d spent a lot of time perfecting that recipe and several others because she was going to need to a full repertoire when she opened the café, and because it used up her spare time and stopped her thinking about Luke.
He’d been gone for four weeks and he haunted her thoughts constantly. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. They’d both agreed to go their separate ways. It had been the right thing to do, but now she bitterly regretted that they’d never exchanged mobile numbers in that stupid pact that they’d try to make it easier by not sharing details.
To her shame, despite her promise to him, she’d looked through Amelie’s rec
ords but Luke’s details had been shredded along with everyone else’s passport details once they checked out. It had become a habit to scan through the bookings each week, in the vague hope that he might come before he set sail.
Lifting her chin, she smiled at Bernhardt, determined to hide the dull ache that dogged her. ‘One more wall and then we’re done. The kitchen goes in on Monday and the last few snagging bits are due to be done by the flooring guy, the builder, and the tiler next week. She had no doubt they would all turn up on time because Johannes was rather fearsome with his clipboard and checklist. He’d been an excellent project manager. Although she knew what she wanted, she’d never managed any building work before.
‘Are you really going to open next week?’
‘I don’t see why not. Providing the kitchen is in.’
‘It will be quiet here soon,’ observed Bernhardt, as he went back to his painting. ‘What will you do then, when the ski season finishes?’
Mina frowned. ‘Johannes says there are lots of hikers and tourists. And I think the chalet will be busy. Amelie already has bookings for May, June, and July.’
‘Yes, but what about April? Won’t you be lonely?’
‘I’m sure there will be lots to do.’ She deliberately made her voice bright and cheerful, as if being lonely had never entered her lexicon of emotions.
‘You might like to come to Zurich for a visit. I can show you round the city.’
‘That’s kind. I’m going next week actually.’
‘You are?’
‘An Ikea trip. I’m moving into an apartment in the building behind.’
Bernhardt nodded as if that was completely normal, which of course it was. Amelie had thought nothing of suggesting the five-hour round trip. They were borrowing a van from someone in the village and making the trip together.
Mina applied more paint, listening to the satisfying sh-sh of the roller over the wall. She only had a tiny bit more to do and Bernhardt had almost finished the final section of skirting board.
‘Nearly there,’ she said, stretching her back, already looking forward to a long hot soak in the bath.
‘Yes.’ Bernhardt looked out of the window with a hopeful expression on his face which made Mina pat him on the arm.
‘Yes, you can go back to the slopes tomorrow.’
‘Come with us. There won’t be many more chances, and this is nearly done.’
Mina bit her lip, tempted by the offer. This last week she’d barely left the chalet and if she was honest, she was a bit sick of her own company. When Luke had first left, she’d thrown herself into helping to run the chalet and getting as much skiing in as she could, even if it was just a quick hour cross-country skiing in the afternoons, but Amelie had quickly re-established control over the kitchen, insisting that she would die of boredom if she weren’t allowed to cook. Under Johannes’s watchful eye, Amelie spent most evenings toasting her toes in front of his wood burner with one of his wonderful bottles of red wine, and although they often invited her, Mina didn’t want to cramp their style.
God, it was tempting. Maybe it would do her some good. Stop her being so bloody miserable. There: she’d said it. Who knew she was such a fantastic actress? While on the outside she greeted the world with her typical everything-is-wonderful attitude, inside the world felt dull and brown, curling up at the edges, and she found it harder and harder to keep up. A day out might lift her out of this annoyingly persistent fug.
What was stopping her, really?
Amelie wouldn’t mind. Franzi and Giselle worked on Sundays doing the housekeeping in the mornings and serving in the dining room in the evenings, and Amelie would cook, and tomorrow night’s plans for dinner included a hearty stew, which would be easy, and an apple strudel, one of the ones Dave had made and frozen a few weeks before. If Mina got up a little bit earlier, she could bake the lovely squidgy chocolate Gotthelftorte for afternoon tea, which she’d perfected last week.
‘OK,’ she said, feeling a sudden release of tension. It would be good to get out for a change, and she’d just go to bed a bit earlier this evening; it would relieve the loneliness that she hated having to admit to, even if it was only to herself.
After a dull cloudy week, the sun blessed them with a magnificently brilliant appearance, chasing away the sense of gloom that had settled upon her over the last few days. Serendipity, she thought, the word flitting annoyingly into her brain. Ignoring it, she sucked in a deep breath and looked down the mountain, already anticipating the swish and bump of her skis over the fresh snow.
‘Perfect conditions. You ready?’ asked Bernhardt, pulling down his googles and rearranging the poles into his hands.
‘Yes,’ she said, confident that she’d be able to keep up this time. She had pent-up energy to burn. She pushed off first, immediately feeling the adrenaline firing through, along with a burst of relief. The swish of skis on snow soothed her and she quickly relaxed into a smooth rhythm, gliding over the surface, her body in sync. Even the boots seemed almost comfortable today. She couldn’t imagine going back to Manchester again. Ian had accepted her resignation, and the very next day booked a trip out to the chalet in June which had tickled her. She’d obviously done a good sales job on him.
Even Miriam and Derek, to her absolute astonishment, had agreed that it was a good move.
‘You’ve always needed to spread your wings,’ said Miriam in a tearful phone conversation, ‘But we’ll always be here for you. And we’ve sold the house.’
Derek, chipping in on speaker phone, told her all about the bungalow they’d found with the loft space for his trains and the most wonderful cottage garden. Their excitement about their own change of circumstances made her feel a lot less guilty about moving away.
Bernhardt came racing past her and she laughed out loud. Clearly his patience with her pace had run out. She watched his elegant competence, wondering if she’d ever be that good, although just being out here was enough. She’d never get used to the spring freshness of the air, that was for sure.
The slopes teemed with people in high spirits, all anxious to get as much skiing done as they could before the season ended. By the time Mina reached the bottom, to find Bernhardt waiting for her, she felt exhilarated.
‘You ski much better now,’ he commented as they skied across the flat towards the ski lifts.
‘Practice,’ she said, still a little breathless.
‘You’ll be Swiss soon,’ he teased. ‘Would you like a beer?’
‘That would be great. What about Kristian?’
Bernhardt shrugged. ‘He’ll find us. There is a nice bar if we get this ski lift, and then there is a run over towards the west.’
‘OK, lead on.’
They took the chair lift together.
‘Having a good time?’ he asked, smiling at her.
‘Yes, it’s good to be outside and away from the paint fumes.’
‘How long do you think you will run the café for?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Mina honestly, a little surprised by the question.
‘What about your career? Back in England.’
‘Time for a new one. I realise now that I wasn’t that happy.’
‘But will this be enough? Do you want to stay in a tiny village forever? You lived in a big city, with a good job.’
Mina bristled at the implication of what he was saying, but realised that in his precise, formal way, it must have seemed strange.
‘I came here to try and sort out my life. Yes, I had a good job, a flat of my own, and nearly a fiancé. But when he didn’t want to marry me, it made me see things differently. My job wasn’t making me happy, my flat was just a place to live, and I didn’t know what was really important to me.’
‘And now you do?’ Scepticism laced his voice, and it forced her to think hard about the answer.
‘Yes,’ she said firmly, realising that this was everything she’d been trying to find a way towards with that bloody book. ‘I want to cook. To experim
ent. To create recipes. Learn how to make chocolate. Sell chocolate. To feed people. To look after them. It might not look much, but it makes me happy. I’ve been happier here than I have in my whole working life.’
‘You have?’
She beamed at him, the knowledge lighting her up inside. ‘Yes.’
Bernhardt gave her a thoughtful nod, followed by a slow smile. ‘Then, that is good.’
She smiled. She could almost see him mentally casting her off. She couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘So, not the woman for you?’
He had the grace to blush. ‘Compatibility is important, no?’
‘It is, and we’re not.’ Never were, thought Mina, but all the same patted his hand. Keeping friends was far preferable to creating enemies. Part of her wished she could have liked him more. Bernhardt was the sort of man she should have been looking for. A balance to her. Someone who would sort her out, stop her making rash decisions like deciding to open a chocolate café in the middle of nowhere in another country. She laughed at herself – and that wasn’t the sort of person she wanted at all.
The ski chair dipped and Bernhardt raised the bar readying himself for the off, which he did with enviably smooth control. Mina still found disembarking chair lifts a hit or miss affair. Thankfully today she managed it with some dignity.
‘This way,’ called Bernhardt, already champing at the bit to be off. Before she could catch up with him he’d already disappeared from view. She followed and reached the start of the run, looking down at the steep, narrow path through an outcrop of rocks on one side and a long drop away to the valley far below on the other. No margin for error, she thought, a shiver of fear clutching the base of her spine.
With a swallow and a deep breath, she gingerly inched forward. Eeek, that looked steep. Really, really steep. None of the previous runs she’d ever done had been anything like as challenging as this. She might be impulsive and always ready to try things, but she also had a healthy sense of self-preservation.