The Little Swiss Ski Chalet

by Julie Caplin

  Minds were bloody contrary things, decided Mina, thumping her pillow. Why didn’t they do what you wanted them to do? Instead of letting her relish the triumph of her opening party, hers now insisted on coming up with a-gazillion-and-one ideas for Amelie and Johannes’s wedding cake, and refused to let sleeping Lukes lie.

  Wedding cake, that was what she would focus on today. Amelie might think that a few weeks allowed plenty of time but Mina knew better. She needed a design. To practise. Get the couple’s approval. As this weekend was probably going to be her last free one before the café opened officially on Monday, she decided to get a head start and catch the train to Brig to visit the wholesalers to look at ingredients and cake-decorating supplies to find out what was on offer. There was no point coming up with a dozen ideas if she then couldn’t make them happen.

  Throwing the covers off, she dived into the shower and dressed quickly in jeans, sweater, and a scarf, without even bothering to look in the mirror, and dragged a quick comb through her hair because she didn’t need to see her reflection to know she’d be sporting a halo of bed-head frizz.

  The shy tendrils of spring, with early green shoots poking through the snow, extended to the temperature, and it definitely felt a few degrees warmer as she walked down to the station pulling along a small cabin bag. She knew herself too well, she was bound to end up buying supplies today, and this seemed eminently practical if, as she was bound to, she got carried away and bought more than she could carry.

  The train, although busy today, was full of local people going shopping with far fewer tourists than usual, and she got the sense of the winter season starting to ebb away. Part of her felt sad about that, but another part excited to see what summer would bring. She wondered if there was a twilight period between seasons where the local people existed in a quiet lull before the storm.

  More people clambered on with shopping bags at each station, and by the time the train pulled into Brig it was packed. As soon as she walked from the station to the town centre she quickly realised why. Market stalls lined the cobbled streets, their colourful awnings bright in the morning sunshine. Foodie heaven, decided Mina, quickening her steps as she crossed to the nearest stall, which was filled with cured meats in every shape and size as well as traditional Swiss Cervelat sausage. For a moment she marvelled at the selection, wishing she knew more about what they all were, before moving on to the next straw-covered stall offering an amazing array of cheese. A giant round of Emmental sat upright on its side, surrounded by small, different-coloured, round cheeses, like babies that had spilled out of the nest. Baskets containing thick wedges of every shade of golden, cream, and white cheeses were arranged along the front of the stall, and in the middle were tubs of soft cheese with big wooden spoons.

  ‘Want to try some?’ asked the good-looking man behind the stall in perfect English. Wearing a black down jacket and a wool hat, his blue eyes gave her a quick once-over.

  ‘I’d love to.’ Mina smiled at him, part friendliness and part amusement at his obvious interest. ‘What’s that one?’

  Before long she’d tried half the cheeses stall and found herself chatting away (and flirting just a little) to Hans, who ran the stall for his father, who made cheese in Biel, not far from Reckingen.

  ‘I’d love to stock your cheese, if it’s of interest,’ she said, having told him about the café, which he already knew all about – apparently it was the hot topic of gossip in the villages.

  ‘I wish you luck.’ He gave her a card. ‘Speak to my father.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s brilliant. I was wondering how to go about finding local suppliers.’

  ‘Ah, wait. Hey, Walter,’ he called to the meat stall holder and spoke quick-fire German.

  Twenty minutes later she had a handful of cards and a bag full of samples of cheese and salamis, and two new friends, both of whom promised to visit when they next went out hiking, and to send all their friends and neighbours. She wished she had a card to press on them.

  ‘Thanks so much, Hans,’ she said the cheese stallholder. ‘You’ve been so helpful.’

  ‘No problem. Perhaps we could have a coffee sometime? My number’s on the card.’

  Mina paused for a moment. There had to be life after Luke. ‘That would be nice,’ she said, smiling back at him. She had to start somewhere.

  ‘Great,’ he beamed at her.

  Leaving them, she skirted a stall full of fresh bread, the scent filling the air, making her stomach rumble. Moving on, she ambled the streets, basking in the sunshine until she decided to treat herself to a coffee. She rather enjoyed being on her own. This last few weeks had been frenetic with so much to do, and hopefully the café would have plenty of customers, even though Reckingen was such a small place. According to faithful Google, it was a good walk to the wholesalers, and although the sun shone, the ground temperature was still quite cold, so she took a taxi, asking him in her best German to return in an hour and a half to take her back to the station.

  After a very successful shopping trip to the wholesalers, the taxi driver deposited her right outside the station, and she realised if she hurried she could just make the next train, which left in five minutes. Rushing through the barrier, she found the platform and made a mad dash to the train, pulling the now quite heavy case along behind her. Thank goodness she’d brought it – although perhaps if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have been quite so tempted. She had a ton of ideas for Amelie and Johannes’s wedding cake, and had bought ready-roll icing, a selection of bottles of colour, a roll of fancy ribbon, and some delicate sprays of moulded-icing roses, as well some speciality flour, some cake bases, dowelling, and a tiny bride and groom. If Luke had been here, she might have asked him to help make a bride and groom – with his modelling skills, he’d have been invaluable. And there she was bloody thinking about him again.

  With a minute to spare, she jumped onto the train, and was about to slam the door behind her when a voice shouted urgently, ‘Wait!’ She left the door and moved a step forward. Two seconds later someone hurled themselves through the door, knocked her flying – and to add insult to injury, landed on top of her.

  Blue eyes appeared as a hand pushed a shaggy mop of hair from his face.

  Completely winded by the fall, it took her a second to try and catch her breath, but that failed as everything went haywire. Her pulse exploded into hyper-speed and her breath caught in her chest as she stared into the familiar face.

  He grinned down at her.

  Finally, she managed to haul air into her deprived lungs as the train smoothly moved off.

  ‘Do you think you could move your pointy elbow out of my ribs?’ she asked with a gasp, pushing at his arm uncomfortably wedged into her side.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ He sat up and then reached for her, pulling her up to a sitting position. ‘We really must stop meeting like this.’

  For a moment she glared at him and then thumped him hard on the arm. ‘Is that all you can say?’ she asked indignantly, although every nerve-ending in every last bit of her jumped up and down with happiness.

  ‘I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘I should think so too. What kept you?’

  ‘Well, apparently it’s quite difficult getting off a boat when you’re halfway across the Irish Sea.’

  ‘Luke, I was joking. Why are you here?’

  ‘Because it turns out the opportunity of a lifetime doesn’t mean much when you’re missing someone so much you want to gnaw your own arm off.’

  Mina laughed. ‘That’s not terribly romantic.’

  ‘I know, but that’s how I felt. It was awful. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I thought perhaps when we set off, it might get better, but it was worse and the sea sickness didn’t help. Luckily I was so ill that they let me bail in Dublin.’

  ‘Oh, Luke.’

  He gave her a naughty grin. ‘I’m also, it turns out, quite a good actor. I might have exaggerated my symptoms somewhat. It was that or jump overboard.’


  ‘I think jumping overboard would have been a little drastic.’

  He shrugged his shoulders, those blue eyes dancing, ‘You’re worth it.’

  ‘Seriously, Luke. It was a big deal.’

  ‘Not when I was on a boat heading in the opposite direction from you.’ His tone might have been jokey, but his eyes were deadly serious.

  ‘But what about your career?’ Mina spluttered, still not quite able to believe he was really here. ‘The adventure?’

  ‘I want to try a new adventure. One with you by my side. And I hate to say it—’ his mouth quirked in what she assumed was an attempt at modesty ‘—but I’ve already been offered two other jobs, both of which are based in Geneva.’

  ‘Well, that’s handy.’

  ‘I thought so. I think if you’re going to start an adventure with the love of your life, being in the same country is a good start.’ He let out a laugh. ‘You know I love you, Mina Campbell.’

  ‘And I love you Luke… whatever your bloody surname is.’

  ‘You’re not going to believe this but it’s… Love.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Whatever my parents named me, it was going to be problematic with a surname like that. It’s derived from “luiff”, which meant wolf, and there are ten thousand of us in the UK, so it’s not completely weird.’

  ‘No, it’s completely perfect.’ Mina began to laugh because underneath those facts, he sounded ever so slightly defensive.

  Luke smiled. ‘Remember the first time I kissed you?’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I never believed in love at first sight, or first kiss, or serendipity.’

  ‘And do you now?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she said, smiling up at his handsome face. ‘We had no idea whether we would ever see each other again. On that train either of us could have been headed anywhere in Europe. You couldn’t possibly have known that we were both going to end up at the same ski chalet, could you?’

  There was a tiny glimmer of something in Luke’s eyes but he shook his head, his hand straying to flick something from her cabin bag.

  ‘And if it wasn’t for that chance meeting again at Amelie’s, I wouldn’t have always believed in here—’ she held a hand over her heart ‘—that one day you’d come back.’

  ‘I knew the first time we kissed that you were the girl for me.’ Luke stared at her with an indecipherable expression on his face.

  ‘You know what I named the café?’

  ‘I saw. You left no stone unturned on Facebook or Instagram.’

  ‘I needed you to know.’

  ‘I knew alright. I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the party yesterday. I did try, but I wasn’t ill enough to be airlifted off the boat. Apparent you need to be in a near-coma for that. I wasn’t sure… I made you something.’ From behind his back he pulled a battered leather case.

  Mina looked at his face and smiled at the small boy excitement lurking there. She flicked open the catches and flipped back the lid.

  Inside was a perfect alpine scene, with a train running through a valley, and perched on the side of the valley was an exact replica of the ski chalet, complete with a tiny terrace with tables and chairs, and above the barn doors was an identical copy of the swirling Serendipity sign.

  ‘I didn’t think hearts and flowers were enough. I’d already decided I’d come back one day and bring it with me.’

  ‘Oh Luke, it’s beautiful.’ The intricate detail spoke of a labour of love.

  ‘I never stopped thinking about you, and I was determined to give you this in person.’

  Luke leaned forward and kissed her. As soon as his lips touched hers, her body responded, every cell attuned to that wonderful sensation of coming home, as well as that nerve-tingling deliciousness of a first kiss in a long time.

  The kiss developed into something that really wasn’t very suitable for a train corridor, but at that moment in time, neither of them cared. And if Luke fingered the Harry Potter luggage tag hanging from her bag behind her back, no one would ever need to know that he’d always known, the first time they met, that he’d see her again, but sheer willpower and determination had been responsible for him coming back to her for the second…

  THE END

  * * *

  Don’t miss The Cosy Cottage in Ireland, the next heartwarming instalment in the Romantic Escapes series by Julie Caplin.

  Acknowledgments

  My biggest thanks go to the extraordinarily generous Andie Pilot, creator of the Helvetic Kitchen website, whose passionate writing about Swiss food and her wonderful curation of Swiss recipes has inspired and taught me all about the food of the region. I have shamelessly plundered her treasure chest of Swiss recipes and if you’re interested in finding out more about any of the dishes and delicious cakes featured in the book, I would urge you to head over to www.helvetickitchen.com for all the recipes and to learn about the history and tradition of the dishes.

  As always I have to thank my wonderful writing buddies, Donna Ashcroft, Bella Osborne, Darcie Boleyn, Philippa Ashley and Sarah Bennett – a woman could not have a better bunch of cheerleaders, friends and supporters. Even during lockdown we’ve managed to have virtual drinks via Zoom or in the case of Donna, Prosecco in the garden by the fire pit.

  During the last year when travel has been difficult if not impossible, I’m hugely grateful to all the readers that have written, messaged and Instagrammed to let me know that through my books they’ve been able to escape to another place for a couple of hours. Those messages make my day every single time!

  Special thanks to my much loved agent, Broo Doherty, and my brilliant editor, Charlotte, who can spot a flabby middle at a hundred paces but knows just what to do about it. Thanks also go to the whole team at One More Chapter, who make all the magic happen behind the scenes and the fabulous unsung heroines, the HarperCollins Rights team, who are nothing short of amazing, especially the lovely Emily Yolland, who goes out and buys my books!

  Life this year has been challenging for so many people, so I think not being able to go back to Switzerland is a very minor problem in the scheme of things. However, I hope that my memories have served me well. Any mistakes and I’m blaming Google! I hope that you’ve enjoyed your trip with Mina and Luke and Amelie and Johannes and that you’ll be ready to join me on the next adventure with Mina’s sister Hannah.

  Recipe: Basler Kirschenbrottorte

  500 g leftover bread

  400 ml milk

  1 tsp vanilla paste or extract

  800 g to 1 kg cherries

  100 g cookie crumbs

  120 g butter, soft

  200 g sugar

  pinch of salt

  7 eggs, separated

  100 g ground almonds

  20 g flour

  2 tsp baking powder

  2 tsp cinnamon

  a shot kirsch

  Cube the bread and put it in a big bowl. Heat the milk and vanilla in a pot over the stove or in a microwave. When it’s bubbling, add it to the bread. Press the bread down with a fork so it soaks up the liquid. Let this cool a little.

  * * *

  While you’re waiting, pit the cherries.

  * * *

  Preheat oven to 180 C / 350 F / gas mark 4.

  * * *

  Line a 26 cm (10 inch) springform pan with parchment. Butter the sides, then sprinkle about half of the cookie crumbs over the bottom of the pan. Set aside.

  * * *

  Once the bread has absorbed the milk, use a fork (or your fingers) to mash it all together.

  * * *

  In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar. Add the salt and vanilla. Beat in the egg yolks a little at a time until everything is incorporated.

  * * *

  In a separate bowl, whisk together the rest of the cookie crumbs, ground almonds, flour, baking powder, and cinnamon.

  * * *

  Using another separate, clean bowl and whisk or mixer, whisk the egg whites until s
tiff and glossy.

  * * *

  Mix the soaked bread into the butter and egg mixture. Add the flour mixture. Stir in the cherries and kirsch. Fold in the egg whites.

  * * *

  Pour into your prepared pan.

  * * *

  Bake in the oven for 1 to 1¼ hours, until the top has browned and the centre is no longer jiggly.

  Thank you for reading…

  We hope you enjoyed The Little Swiss Ski Chalet!

  * * *

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  * * *

  You can also add the paperback edition to your collection!

  Don’t miss The Cosy Cottage in Ireland, the next heartwarming instalment in the Romantic Escapes series by Julie Caplin!

  Get your copy right here!

  You can also delve into all her previous books by just clicking on the covers below!

  Be sure to follow Julie on Twitter @JulieCaplin, on Facebook @JulieCaplinAuthor, and check out her website at juleswake.co.uk for all the updates on her latest work.

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