What Happens in the Alps... (23 page)

BOOK: What Happens in the Alps...
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‘What would you do in my place, Matt?' He turned his head towards her, his eyes hidden by his dark glasses. ‘I've just found out that Alex – you met him that evening – had an affair with one of the girls at the hotel as recently as a couple of months ago. Should I be worried?'

He paused for some deliberation before replying. ‘I don't necessarily think the length of time's important. I mean, to me, a week used to be a long time when it came to women. What matters is that it's in the past. You don't want to find yourself in the middle of something that's dragging on. Why, do you think he and she might still be bonking away like gerbils?'

Annie shook her head, mulling over his use of the past tense when speaking of his womanising. It really sounded as if he had changed. She returned her thoughts to Alex and Daniela. ‘No, I don't really. It's just the thought that, if he's jumped into bed with some random girl so recently, he might see me in the same light.'

‘You, some random girl? Come on, Annie, get real.'

‘Why not?'

His reply came as quite a surprise to her. ‘Because you're a keeper, Annie. Anybody can see that. No man in his right mind would think of you as a one-night stand or a passing fancy. Have no fear on that score. He knows what he's got with you and, if he doesn't, he's a hell of a lot stupider than I thought. And, somehow, I don't see you getting together with somebody stupid.'

‘Aw, Matt, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.'

‘Plus you don't look anything like a gerbil.'

‘How sweet; I don't look like a rodent.' She smiled across at him. ‘I'll always cherish that compliment.'

Chapter 18

It started snowing in the early hours of Saturday and Annie was woken at around five o'clock in the morning by the noise of the wind buffeting the roof of the chalet. She peered out of the window in the direction of Santorso, but could see absolutely nothing. She even eased the patio door open a few inches and immediately found herself on the receiving end of a dense cloud of snow, blown in by the force of the wind. Hastily, she closed the door again and dusted herself off. The snowflakes were huge, dry and beautiful, but she knew full well the chaotic effect a snowstorm like this would have on the area.

She wasn't wrong.

When she resurfaced at eight o'clock on Saturday morning and peered out into the grey light of day, all she could see was snow. It was still coming down hard and the wind, if anything, had intensified in strength. Snow had drifted onto her porch and there was a pile almost a metre high against the front door. The path to the road had disappeared under a blanket of the white stuff and her poor little Panda was totally hidden from sight beneath a mound of snow. She went through to the kitchen and put on the kettle. At least the power was still on. So often in situations like this, power lines were blown down or broken by the sheer weight of snow. She made herself a mug of tea and returned to the living room, taking a seat by the window.

As it was a Saturday, she didn't have to go anywhere. This was just as well because the roads, even to a car fitted with winter tyres, would be treacherous. She had ample food and drink to last her until Monday, so she settled down with her tea and watched the snow flurries beat against the window before falling onto the ever bigger drifts against the walls of the house. She could just about make out the end of the garden and the first of the fir trees beyond, their tops whipped to and fro by the wind. It was definitely a day for staying inside.

The phone rang. It was Matt.

‘Hi, Annie, I just thought I'd phone to see if you're okay.'

‘I'm fine, thanks. What's it like down in Santorso?'

‘I've just been across to the café and Signora Toniolo tells me it's the worst snowfall she's seen for years. Put it this way; I needed my boots just to cross the road. It must be knee-deep up where you are. Local radio's been reporting loads of roads closed, including your road up to Montalto.'

‘I heard the snowplough go past a few minutes ago so I expect they'll have the road open before long. Thanks for thinking of me, but I'm fine. What're you doing today?'

‘Work, I'm afraid. I still haven't cleared the Christmas logjam. Well, if you're sure you're okay, I'll leave you to it. Give me a call if you need anything. The pickup's got four-wheel drive so I should be able to make it up to your place without too much trouble.'

‘I'm fine, Matt. Thanks again.'

Annie put the phone down and picked up her tea again. There was no getting away from it; Matt was terrific. Considering the way he treated most women, he was so very caring towards her. Of course, she reflected, this was presumably because he didn't see her as a sex object, although she could clearly see that he was very fond of her. She was very fond of him, too, and, over the years, she had successfully managed to come to think of him almost as a brother. What was very strange was the way this fraternal image of Matt was beginning to morph into something more physical. Hadn't she found herself thinking about his stomach muscles only the other day? Beneath the kind, friendly, caring Matt, she was beginning to get a glimpse of something altogether more hunky. After the way he had dealt with Gruglio, she was really very pleased that he had taken up her offer of renting a room at the school. It was comforting to have him around; very comforting and, maybe, just a little stimulating.

The snow finally stopped some time Saturday night. When Annie awoke on Sunday morning, it was to a winter wonderland of snow, snow and more snow, all bathed in crystal-clear winter sunshine, under an intense blue sky. The snowfall of the past twenty-four hours had cleaned the atmosphere and visibility was amazing. Santorso was once more laid out clearly below her window and everywhere she looked, all she could see was white. Roofs, roads, gardens, trees and, of course, the mountains themselves, were under a thick coating of snow. It was beautiful, truly beautiful, as long as you didn't have to go anywhere.

After breakfast, Annie put on a jacket, gloves and boots and went out to start clearing the path. The snow was a good foot deep, even deeper in places, and she was boiling hot by the time she had removed enough snow for the path to be passable once more. As she worked, she occasionally heard the clank of chains and scraping sounds from the main road as the snowploughs did their best to clear the way. After a break for coffee, she went back outside again and removed as much snow as possible from the car. She knew that if she didn't, with this clear sky, it would freeze overnight, and getting down to the school next morning for the important last week of preparations would be impossible.

Back inside, she found herself thinking of Alex once more. She had been thinking about him a lot over the past few days and she was really looking forward to seeing him again that night. When she had learnt that he had been with his sister at the airport, her immediate reaction had been one of relief that he hadn't gone off to the Caribbean with another woman. However, the discovery that he had had an affair with Daniela quite recently made her feel a little more uncomfortable. For all she knew, he might even have a girl in Rome where he was spending so much time. Maybe some of the incessant phone calls he kept getting were from other girls. Nevertheless, in spite of her doubts, she knew she was looking forward to seeing him.

She flicked on the television in time to see the local news and from that she learnt that Turin airport was still closed due to adverse weather conditions. If the airport was closed, Alex might find it impossible to get back that evening, after all. She sent him a text, asking about his travel plans. There was no immediate reply and she wondered where he was and what he was doing. And with whom.

Working on the basis that he would be coming to dinner that night, she started preparing food. She had decided to make him something English, just for a change, and shepherd's pie was an easy option, and one of her tried and tested recipes. It was mid-morning and the pie had been in the oven for about twenty minutes when her phone whistled. It was a text from Alex.

Really sorry. Stuck in Rome. Won't be able to make dinner. Hope to see you tomorrow. XXX Alex.

‘Bugger.' Although she been half expecting it, the news was very disappointing, even if the three Xs were rather nice. For a moment she felt angry, but just as quickly realised that it wasn't his fault. If the airport was closed, there really wasn't much he could do. She looked into the oven and saw that the Parmesan cheese she had sprinkled on top of the pie was already a crusty brown colour, so she switched the oven off, hoping the pie would still be good tomorrow.

She sent him a brief reply and then sat down at the kitchen table. It was just past eleven o'clock and, after a day barricaded indoors yesterday, she was keen to get out. She decided to have a go at driving up to Montalto to go skiing. If the road conditions were too treacherous, she would just turn round and come straight back.

In fact, things went a lot more smoothly than she had imagined. She was able to reverse back up the private road without too much difficulty, and when she emerged onto the main road it was to find it almost completely clear and a number of cars making their way up to the slopes with skis on their roofs. She joined the file and got up to Montalto without trouble, parking in the main car park. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't very full and the lifts and runs were unusually quiet for a Sunday. The powder snow looked amazing, but she didn't like skiing off piste on her own, just in case something happened, so she stayed, for the most part, on the main runs, including the daunting Cock's Comb. In the course of the day she spotted Paul, accompanying a group of beginners on the lower slopes, and a few other familiar faces as she skied around the domain. Finally, she got back to her car at almost four o'clock, tired but happy.

After changing out of her ski boots into her fur-lined boots, she walked down to Signor Lago's house and rang the bell. Romeo answered the door, the Labrador at his side. Annie found the old man sitting in the living room with his feet up and a tartan plaid across his legs to keep him warm. The fire was burning behind its glass screen and the room was boiling. Leo the dog was very pleased to see her and she made a fuss of him while Romeo went off to make the tea and Signor Lago quizzed her about her new house. She couldn't thank him enough.

‘It's fabulous. It's warm, it's cosy, the views are amazing and it already feels like home.'

‘And the road to get up here?'

‘Clear. The snowploughs have done a great job. It's a pity they weren't down at Turin to clear the runway at the airport. I got a text message from Alex telling me he's stuck in Rome until tomorrow.'

Signor Lago nodded. ‘I bet he's fuming. With the big weekend coming up soon, he needs to be here.'

Romeo brought the tea and Annie sat and chatted for half an hour until it was starting to get dark outside and she knew she had to set off for home, before it started to freeze. Carefully extricating herself from the Labrador, who had adopted his usual place across her feet, she said goodbye to Signor Lago. He gave her a big smile.

‘Come again any time, my dear. It's a joy to see you.'

Annie drove carefully back down the road to her house. The grit lorry had been along and the road surface was wet with melted ice, and the noise of the grit spraying up underneath her car made her wonder what damage it might be doing. She reversed down the road to her house so that she would be pointing in the right direction next morning and went inside, determined to complete her lesson preparation for the hotel staff whose course would start two days later. As she changed out of her skiing clothes, she spared a thought for the cosy evening she had been anticipating. Whatever doubts she might have about Alex and Daniela, she couldn't wait to see him again.

Chapter 19

In fact, it was Tuesday before Alex returned from Rome. Turin airport opened on Monday but further business complications kept him in Rome for another night. He arrived back at the Hotel Montalto not long after dark and Annie was one of the first to see him. She was just walking out through the lobby, after her first afternoon of lessons with the staff of the hotel, when his taxi drew up. She went over to open the door for him and he beamed as he caught sight of her.

‘Annie, Annie, how good to see you again after all this time.' He dropped his bag and opened his arms to give her a hug. She didn't hesitate.

‘Welcome home, Alex, and a Happy New Year to you.' She kissed him warmly and buried her head against his shoulder, snuggling tightly up to him. It felt so very good to have him back again after not having seen him for more than three weeks. After a few moments, he stepped back, holding her at arm's length as he studied her.

‘Annie, you look wonderful. You've got colour in your cheeks and you look happy and settled. Yes, a Happy New Year to you, too.' She smiled back at him. She really was feeling good. As for him, his Caribbean tan was still visible and he looked fit and very handsome. She leant forward and kissed him again before releasing him.

‘I cooked shepherd's pie for you. Do you want to come down and have it at my new house?'

He smiled at her. ‘I can't think of anything better, but probably not tonight; at least, not until a lot later on. I can only begin to imagine the pile of stuff on my desk that'll need to be dealt with immediately.' Seeing the disappointment on her face, he made a suggestion. ‘How about I give you a call later on, once I've got an idea of just how busy I'm going to be?'

‘Of course. Any time.' As he went off, she felt a twinge of resentment that, after three whole weeks without seeing her, he was too busy to spend time with her. The more pragmatic half of her brain told her that business was business and he didn't have much choice, while the more emotional other half felt seriously miffed. She went out into the freezing night air and across to the car park. Her mood wasn't improved by her having to scrape freshly formed ice off the windscreen before she could drive down the hill to Le Pont.

BOOK: What Happens in the Alps...
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