Chapter Thirty-Three #3
The slope seemed far steeper than it had from above in the chairlift, but she had to get to the children.
Emme was gaining speed and felt frightened.
She tried to remember what Tom said, when they went skiing in Wolf Creek.
Not as fancy as Aspen but she’d spent two days building up the courage to go down a blue run and under Tom’s tutelage she had managed – although not loved – it.
She placed a pole on the snow to try to slow herself down but it dragged behind her.
Were it not for the loop on her wrist, she would have lost it.
‘Kids!’ Emme yelled. ‘Stop and wait!’
Fuck.
Emme remembered a tip Tom had given her back in Colorado.
One he reminded her of the morning after the wedding, while Emme was helping Tom’s father and sister take down the flowers and decorations in the church.
She had just told him she was moving to the Alps for a season.
He’d only got wind of her plan to become a nanny two nights ago and now she was moving to Switzerland.
Tom laughed and asked if she were serious.
Emme tried not to cry, and he realised she was.
‘Wow Em, that’s wild. You don’t even like skiing.’
‘I’m going to learn to love it,’ she said, puffing her chest out a little.
‘We’re going to miss our flight!’ Chrissy urged from the church doors, sunglasses on, Mulberry bag slung over her elbow. Tom ignored her, and looked at Emme, a lingering sadness behind his hungover eyes.
‘Remember: always ski into the mountain.’ He diffused the tension with a conspiratorial smile.
‘Tom!’ Chrissy snapped again. ‘Oh, hi Emme,’ she said, noticing Emme clearing up the detritus of her wedding.
Now she remembered his words, while she was whizzing, losing control, reaching a perilous speed. She wished Tom were here now. Or did she?
Always ski into the mountain.
What did that even mean?
The dots of the children were getting smaller. The light was fading. It was heading for 4pm on a Monday in November, Lexy would be checking the BUZZ app and fretting.
‘Kids!’ Emme bellowed.
Suddenly the piste got narrower and even steeper, with skiers flying past from behind Emme on both sides.
Seemingly everyone was trying to get back to the village before the slopes closed. Emme was sweating. She felt both boiling hot and freezing cold, as she hurtled now, towards the piste’s edge.
I’m going to break a bone.
I’m going to plummet over.
I can’t see Harry and Bella.
‘FUCKKKKKKKK!’
Emme threw herself to one side in a violent thrust, which took one of her skis off as she came to a halt. Her errant ski teetered on the slope’s steep edge.
‘Shit shit shit!’ she threw her poles down in frustration but they wouldn’t come off her wrists.
She started to cry. At least she had stopped hurtling at a frightening velocity.
And she didn’t appear to have broken a leg.
She could move. She sat up and narrowed her eyes.
She could see Harry in red and Bella in pink, now motionless dots at the bottom of the piste – they were waiting for her, thank god.
I have to get to them.
Yet she knew there would be another three or four pistes after this one. Some steeper, perhaps.
‘Hey!’ she bellowed, raising a pole, checking the kids knew where she was.
Harry raised one back. ‘Wait there!’ Emme shouted in her loudest voice.
She looked up – the mostly empty chairlift continued its gentle hum.
Chairs coming up, chairs going down. She was shocked to see one of the chairs had a couple in it, casually heading downwards.
She didn’t know you could go down in the chairlift.
Fuck.
Emme sobbed as she tried to stand, wondering how she would retrieve her delinquent ski. Her face was cold, she had snow down the back of her neck and the overpowering smell of other people’s sweat in her ski helmet made her want to be sick.
‘Fucking hate this,’ she snarled to herself.
‘Well perhaps you’d let me help you then …’ said a calm, low voice.
Oh god.
Emme looked up at the silhouetted figure, a halo from the low sun forming behind him. She nodded gently and stifled her sobs.
‘You don’t know how to ski?’ Tristan asked.
Emme shook her head, knowing how ridiculous and downright dangerous she had been. ‘I’m a little rusty,’ she said quietly.
It was embarrassment after embarrassment with this guy.
‘Hey, don’t worry!’ Tristan said, with a wave of his gloved hand.
‘I’ll get you down …’ He held one of his ski poles out for Emme to cling onto and pulled her to her feet.
One booted, one with a long Salomon ski attached.
‘Wait a sec – stand into the mountain so you don’t slide down on your bottom or on one ski. ’
Ski into the mountain.
Tristan put a solid hand on each of Emme’s shoulders to position her, showing her what Tom meant with just one electric touch, as she stood perpendicular to the slope.
‘Stay there,’ he said, then glided over to her wayward ski, picked it up and put it over his shoulder, before gliding back to Emme like the Milk Tray man.
Emme frowned. She really didn’t need to be rescued. Except she did.
‘Look, I seem to be everyone’s Plan B today, but I’ll get you down the mountain whether you want me to or not. But you need to listen to me, yah? It’s quite dangerous.’ He gave her a piercing, almost disapproving stare. Emme had no choice but to nod.
Tristan positioned her ski in place next to her boot and put her hand on his shoulder.
‘Lean on me,’ he said. ‘And press hard.’
She stamped onto the ski with vigour and it clicked into place.
‘First things first, do you know how to brake?’
Emme winced.
‘I think so … do I cross my skis at the front?’
‘Jesus, lady!’
‘Lady?’ she scowled. He’d forgotten her name already.
‘Jesus, Emmeline. If you cross your skis at the front you’ll get tangled and fall over. Which is dangerous. So cut the attitude and listen, we need to get back to town.’
Emme nodded.
‘Stand sideways, if you stand facing down, whoosh, you’ll slide down, out of control. So first things first, always stand perpendicular to the mountain. And cut your skis into the snow to make a little shelf.’
‘Got it,’ she said, rooted to the spot.
‘Now I’m going to show you how to brake without falling over, and hopefully how to move without falling over, right?’
Emme nodded.
‘Put your goggles back on,’ he said, placing them on for her, softening with a patience that made him seem even sexier.
She almost couldn’t look at him for fear of flushing red, grateful for the shield to her eyes.
‘Imagine your feet are French fries right now, two long thin chips I think you call them.’
Emme nodded.
‘That’s how you go. When you’re facing down the mountain, parallel legs will give you speed.’
‘What if I don’t want speed?’
‘That’s what I’m telling you. To slow and stop, make your feet into a triangle shape, like a slice of pizza. Bring your toes together but do not cross skis. And keep your heels apart. Got it?’
‘French fries, go; pizza, stop. Got it.’
They heard Bella calling something up, the kids must be bored and freezing.
‘OK, I’m just going down far enough to check the kids are OK and know to wait, then I’ll pull myself back up and come to you.’
Emme thought about Tristan, his physicality, and hung her head.
Not now.
‘Don’t go anywhere, yah?’
‘No chance,’ she smiled with some irony.
Tristan whizzed straight down the slope to the kids while Emme gathered herself, taking long and measured breaths towards the Silberschnee to try to calm her racing heart.
She didn’t move an inch, apart from to crane her head to see Tristan heaving back up the mountain, part skiing, part stepping up into the slope.
He looked like he was fighting a force. She could almost hear his grunts of effort, defying physics and gravity as he tested every muscle in his strong body to get back to her. She felt guilty now.
‘You OK?’ he called up.
‘Yes,’ she conceded. It was her ego that was bruised more than her body. ‘Thank you,’ she said, as he reached her.
He said nothing, but wiped his brow between his helmet and the top of his ski goggles. She was relieved she couldn’t see his penetrating eyes right now.
‘Are they OK?’
‘Yes, bored, but they’re waiting.’
‘Oh god …’ Emme panicked a little.
‘It’s fine. Look I’m going to cradle you down. You need to stand between my legs, keep your toes pointing in and your heels out – but don’t let your skis cross, got it?’
‘Got it.’
‘We’ll start to the side and then I’ll gently turn us, the important thing is not to panic. Relax and go with me.’
Emme let out an uncertain whimper. She hated the feeling of being out of control.
She just wanted to be back in the village, to be in the Harringtons’ warm apartment, although something about Tristan was starting to calm her as he stood behind her, framing her in their stance, his skis outside of hers, his shoulders curled and his arms cradling Emme’s body.
‘Tuck your poles in.’
‘OK,’ Emme said, suddenly feeling honoured by his touch.
‘We’re not going to fly, we’re just going to take it slowly. Focus on your toes and I’ll do all the rest.’
If this wasn’t so terrifying it would be glorious.
The Silberschnee was tinged almost pink as the sun was getting low over the opposite ridge; the view was beautiful.
Tristan smelled beautiful – she could feel his breath on her neck – but the tension and fear ruined the mountain idyll.
Emme’s knees were locked to the point her thighs burned.
Her fists gripped her redundant poles for dear life.
Tristan enveloped her and guided her down, turning slowly, as they snaked towards the kids waiting at the bottom.
She almost didn’t want to reach them, she yearned for their closeness not to end.
She wanted to take in the view for longer, for Tristan to press closer into her back, so she could feel what the women on the balcony could feel, but he didn’t, he kept just the right amount of distance needed to safely steer her down to the kids, who were bored and bemused, waiting at the bottom.
‘Finally!’ Harry said.
‘Are you OK?’ Bella asked.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Emme smiled.
‘Right, kids, go in front of me now, but not too far ahead,’ Tristan commanded, as he guided them down two blue slopes and three nerve-wracking reds, until they got back to town.
‘Oh, no ski train?’ Emme asked, confused, when they reached the village.
‘The ski train is long closed. We had to ski all the way back to Kristalldorf.’
‘What, they don’t wait for everyone?’
‘No, Little Miss London, the last train is the last train. Then it’s on you to get down. Or me,’ he joked, softening.
Emme realised how catastrophic it could have been.
Her phone rang.
‘Shit, it’s Lexy,’ Emme said, hurrying to answer it.
Tristan smirked a little, again ruffling Emme. This wasn’t funny.
‘Everything alright?’ Lexy asked.
‘Yes, yes, we had such fun at ski school, we’re still in town, but just heading back to the apartment now.’
‘Oh great, I worried they’d skied off to Italy or something.’
‘No no, we’re just heading back now.’
‘Great. KristallKit is being delivered at five pm, so make sure you’re home then. I’ll be back shortly after.’
‘Wonderful, see you there,’ Emme said, panicking a little. She would have to hurry.
Tristan took off his boots and put on a pair of Zegna lo-tops he’d stashed in his small backpack, while Emme and the kids trudged to the locker. Tristan walked over, boots slung round his neck, skis and poles on his broad shoulders.
‘I’ve gotta go, but ski safely on the mountain next time, right?’
Emme nodded knowingly, and swallowed her pride. She knew she needed to get some ski lessons, fast.
‘Thank you. You totally bailed me out. Twice.’
Tristan turned to the kids. ‘Watch out for that one, yah?’ he said, thumbing Emme. ‘She’s trouble!’ He looked back to Emme and winked.
Is he flirting?
Bella giggled.
Then Tristan leaned in to Emme and lowered his voice a little.
‘Hey, if you want to catch up some time, I know you like hanging out around my apartment.’
Emme inhaled quickly. Shock, outrage and embarrassment all rolled into one.
‘Knock on the door and join us next time.’ He smiled a knowing smile which screamed mischief.
In one fell swoop he’d ruined it all. Emme was mortified.
‘I do not want to be in your throuple, thank you very much,’ Emme hissed, under her breath. Tristan favoured her with a lingering look.
‘Hey, your loss,’ he smiled. ‘And you’re welcome,’ he added, as he walked away without turning back.