Chapter Thirty-Three #2
‘Because he was 3,500 metres up a mountain and he said you were down in the village. I was up here.’
‘But you’re not an instructor – are you?’
‘I have been,’ Tristan answered blithely.
‘Jesus!’ Emme exclaimed.
Lexy will kill me, she thought. Then she remembered where she recognised Cedric from. He’d been one of the very drunken party of ski and snowboard instructors in the bar on Saturday night, drinking beer from his boot. No wonder he looked peaky. ‘That was one hangover …’
Tristan shook his head and put a finger to his lips.
‘Yeah, maybe it’s best you don’t let on to Lexy,’ he said.
‘Why do you care?’ Emme asked.
‘Cedric is a buddy.’
Emme didn’t think the guys in cashmere jumpers mingled with the instructors drinking shots off an old wooden ski.
‘And I was just checking out the conditions for heli-skiing but it’s too windy, so when I saw he was in a state, I sent him home and said I’d finish his lesson.’
Emme scowled.
‘We’ve had a great time haven’t we kids?’
‘Yay!’ they both cheered.
Tristan unclipped his ski helmet, took it off and ruffled his collar-length hair.
‘Do you know this man?!’ Emme asked the children sternly.
‘Yes he’s a friend of Mummy and Daddy,’ Harry replied.
‘Great,’ Emme said flatly. At least that was something.
‘Old family friends. Lexy’s family, the Brighams, used to holiday with us in Botswana.’
‘Nice,’ she said acerbically.
She looked at Tristan, desperately annoyed, desperately trying to conceal her racing heart. Tristan rummaged in his pocket and picked out two five-franc coins. ‘Kids, why don’t you go buy a hot chocolate each and Emme and I will come follow you in a second.’
The way he said Emme, with his deep South African accent and warm smile, felt like liquid amber, with a sting. How did he know her name?
The kids, she concluded. The kids had yelled her name.
‘Yes!’ they cheered, their eyes lighting up.
Harry took the two coins and they propped their skis and poles up against a triangular wooden stand and trudged off inside.
Tristan looked at Emme, his golden-brown eyes piercing.
She flushed red. She felt completely inadequate and utterly exposed.
She took off her rented helmet and put her mittens inside it as if it were a basket.
‘Cedric could have called me,’ Emme lamented.
‘Seriously, he was puking all over the place. He couldn’t even think straight, let alone wait for you. He reckons it’s alcohol poisoning – I say ski instructors can’t handle their booze.’
Emme rolled her eyes.
‘You said you were one …’
‘Exactly. Was. I did a couple of seasons in Aspen when I was a kid, but I know too much about fine wine to guzzle drinks from a ski boot.’
Oh please.
‘I’m Tristan by the way.’
Tristan dug his pole into the snow, took off his gloves and extended a hand. It hung between them, before Emme placed hers in his, large, warm and confident. She remembered where those hands had been and pictured them on the blonde woman’s waist.
‘Emmeline,’ she said primly, as he wrapped his fingers around hers. Perhaps it was the famous foehn winds whipping up over the Alps, but a shiver ran down her spine.
He released her hand and ruffled his hair, which smelled divine, and not of hired ski helmet like Emme’s.
‘You’re new in town, yah?’
‘Yah …’ Emme replied, feeling silly for emulating him. Jeez what was with this guy? What was his pull?
‘Yes, I’m from England. Just here for a season,’ she elaborated.
Suddenly Emme didn’t want to seem like another worker.
She didn’t want to keep looking young for her age.
She wanted to look like a glossy woman, like all the women skiing in their Moncler suits and Gucci helmets.
Or like Anastasia Steinherr, with her slick wardrobe and long mane.
Not some girl in hand-me-down winterwear.
She wanted to tell Tristan about all the things she enjoyed about working in London.
The theatre trips and the ballet. The art and the restaurants.
‘Nice, I love the UK.’
‘I’m from London, I work in the City. I’m, erm, just taking a career break, looking after the Harrington children.’
‘Yah, I heard about the previous nanny’s dispatch …’ Tristan had a glint in his eye.
Oh god don’t tell me you fucked her too.
Emme shrugged.
‘You’re friends with both Lexy and Bill then?’
‘Everyone’s friends in this town,’ Tristan replied cryptically, before revealing a little more. ‘When I was a kid, Lexy used to make me dress up and be her stooge for her shows and rehearsals and stuff. She’s much older than me of course.’
‘Of course,’ Emme said, trying not to look Tristan up and down, but she gauged he was a good ten years younger than Lexy Harrington.
‘So how long have you been here?’
She didn’t want to ask him questions, his ego was clearly already massive, but how the hell does a wine importer from South Africa end up on the mountain?
Then his arrogant air dropped a little, he looked warm and genuine.
‘Eight years. My father and I came skiing and … well … we never left.’ He looked at Emme with a sadness, and then down into the snow, where he stabbed his ski poles.
She itched to know what made him sad; what made him tick. His face was so handsome. His jaw twitched.
‘It’s a beautiful place, Kristalldorf,’ Emme said, softening.
Tristan looked up, his eyes flashing with a sad intensity.
‘Shall we?’ he said, pointing to the warm café interior.
The kids.
‘Yes.’
Emme looked down at her skis, not knowing how the hell to get the things off. Tristan suddenly slammed his foot on the binding at the back of her boots, making her jump.
‘What are you doing?’ she snapped, flustered, thinking he might have broken them. ‘I have to pay for them if I break them!’
‘Erm, helping you out of your gear …’ he said with a wink, and held out his arm.
‘Oh, thanks,’ she said begrudgingly, as she bent over, picked them up and propped them against the rack next to where Harry and Bella had placed theirs.
In Zita Café Harry and Bella were sitting at a table by the window, each clumsily spooning and slurping a hot chocolate. Trollies were stacked up with trays of plates, empty glasses and half-eaten food. It very much looked like the end of the day.
‘Would you like a hot wine?’ Tristan asked.
‘God no, thanks. I need to get the kids back down, teatime, homework, piano, bath …’ she clunked over to the children in her godawfully uncomfortable boots, looking back to see what Tristan’s were like.
Black, shiny, expensive. Less painful, she imagined.
He was watching her walk and she scowled at him before turning back to the children.
They were giggling about something, licking hot chocolate off their top lips.
‘Come on, we need to get you two home.’
‘Hmmm, this is yummy!’ Bella said, as she swirled hers with a spoon and a little went on the table. ‘Try it!’
Emme stopped, touched. That was a nice offer from Bella, but the hot chocolate had melted marshmallows in it and looked pretty disgusting from this angle.
‘I’m OK lovely, but that’s very kind of you to offer, thank you.’
‘You’re not having any of mine,’ said Harry with a smile.
‘Come on finish up …’
Emme felt very aware of Tristan, his huge presence, lingering behind her.
‘Can we ski with Tristan a bit longer?’ the children asked.
‘I’m afraid not, the slopes will be closing soon. And we need to get you home for your piano practice – your mother will be worried if we’re not back soon.’
Emme thought of the camera doorbell, knowing that Lexy would be aware of all their comings and goings on the BUZZ app on her phone.
‘Oh,’ they sulked.
‘TDK!’ bellowed a posh British man with a thick head and a large royal-blue ski suit. ‘Wondered when I’d bump into you!’ The man with the pink face guffawed and clunked his way over.
‘Lawrence! Long time no see my friend …’ Tristan said as the men gave each other a hearty embrace and patted each other on the back.
Urgh. Emme winced internally. Posh twats backslapping. The last thing she wanted to be around.
Emme took the kids by their hands and led them out to their skis.
‘Come on, you’ll see Tristan another day I’m sure …’ she said. If he was such a good friend of Mummy and Daddy, perhaps she would too.
Outside, Emme and the kids got their gloves and skis on, and looped their poles around their wrists.
Which way down?
Tristan was coming out, still chatting to his friend, who was lowering his goggles and about to set off.
‘You need a hand?’ he called. Emme looked over her shoulder to check he was talking to her.
‘We’ll be fine,’ she waved him away. What was it with this guy and why did he irk her so much? He hadn’t been bad to her. He had made a path for her when she tried to get to the bar. He had helped Cedric out and watched the kids. It looked like they had a great time learning from him too.
‘Right kids, can you show me the way back down to the ski train?’
Emme hadn’t expected to be going to the top of the mountain today, but she knew she had no choice but to ski back down to the mountain train stop she had come out of. If the kids could do it, she could remember how to, right?
Harry and Bella looked puzzled. Wasn’t she the one to get them home safe? They said nothing. ‘That way I assume?’ she pointed to the slope.
‘Yes,’ Bella lisped, unsurely.
The kids lowered their ski goggles from the top of their helmets to their faces, reminding Emme to follow suit, then she watched them propel themselves, off the top of the slope.
‘Not too fast, don’t go off without me!’
Harry and Bella plopped down the slope, disappearing temporarily while Emme edged herself to the precipice.
She could not lose these children on the mountain on her first proper day in the job, but the bright red and fluoro pink coats of Harry and Bella reappeared like fluorescent dots in the distance, and they were getting smaller.
Shit.