Chapter Fifteen #2
Nate laughed and pulled up one knee, wrapping his arms around it.
There was still a shyness and hesitation about him, but it felt like he’d softened a little and was relaxing into her company.
Presumably over the last twenty-four hours he’d decided she was someone he could trust, which was an undeniably nice feeling.
‘Saving your Wordle streak surely qualifies for a rescue helicopter,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘We should get Alex on to it.’
‘Do you think him being here is big news in the Netherlands?’ asked Lucy. ‘Like, does him being stuck on a Swiss mountain create some kind of constitutional crisis?’
‘I imagine his fandom are going out of their mind at the lack of content,’ said Nate. ‘Weird to think this whole situation might be news, and we have no idea. The local paper could be interviewing your family right now.’
‘That would be awkward,’ said Lucy with a grimace, wondering how long it would take for one of her parents to mention Leo, then feeling bad about having bitter thoughts when Leo would have given anything to be having this adventure right now. ‘Where are your family?’
‘Oh, here and there,’ said Nate vaguely. ‘Most of them in France, obviously. I don’t see much of them.’
‘But your dad’s British, right?’
‘Mmm,’ said Nate vaguely. ‘But we’re not close. It’s complicated.’
‘Like your love life, right?’
He looked up at her, his brow furrowed. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Oh,’ said Lucy. ‘I asked you yesterday if you were in a relationship, and you said it was complicated.’
‘Right,’ said Nate. ‘We should probably get up. Gunther has plans for us.’
Lucy nodded, adding the deflection to her file on Nate marked Sasha. ‘But before we get up, we need to talk about your singing last night.’
Even in the gloom of the loft, Lucy could see Nate blush. ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head vehemently. ‘I’m still cringing.’
‘Why are you cringing? It was amazing.’
‘You would say that,’ he said, laughing awkwardly. ‘We have to share a bedroom.’
‘No, really, Nate,’ said Lucy, her hand twitching to reach over and touch his arm, then deciding against it. ‘It was extraordinary. You have an incredible talent.’
‘Well, it’s nice of you to say so,’ he mumbled, picking at the fabric of the duvet. ‘I write songs too.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I’ve got notebooks full of them. They’re probably not very good. I should get you to edit them for me.’
‘I doubt I could do them justice. Which one is your favourite?’
Nate thought about it for a moment. ‘There’s this one I’ve been playing around with for ages, called “Vois Grand”. It’s a thing my grandma used to say a lot.’
‘Big voice?’
‘No,’ laughed Nate. ‘Vois with an S. It’s like dream big, that kind of thing. The song is in English, but I gave it a French title in her honour.’
‘That’s lovely,’ said Lucy. The only grandparents she’d known had died in their seventies, when she and Leo had still been quite small, but an inspirational granny sounded nice.
‘But there’s not much I can do with it if I have to be fifty levels of pissed to get on stage and sing it.’
‘Never bothered Liam Gallagher,’ said Lucy with a shrug.
‘Also it was an audience of seven people. And I was still terrified.’
‘I was the eighth, and you didn’t look terrified to me.’
‘You turned up during my last song. I spent the first few shitting my pants.’
Lucy laughed, knowing that at some point they would have to go and join the others, but not wanting to break this spell. ‘You need to put those pants back on today, just FYI.’
‘I’m still wearing them,’ said Nate with a grin. ‘Never took them off.’
‘Fucking hell, at some point they’ll walk down the mountain by themselves.’
Nate stretched his arms above his head and yawned. ‘I might ask Gunther if I can borrow some clothes today, so I can wash mine. In case we’re a Dutch media sensation when we get rescued.’
‘Good idea,’ said Lucy. ‘Nobody needs to be a Dutch media sensation in dirty pants. What did it feel like?’
Nate looked confused, and dropped his arms back to his sides. ‘What did what feel like?’
‘Once you were over the terror, and just singing?’
‘Oh, are we still talking about that?’
‘Yes,’ said Lucy, rolling her eyes.
‘OK. Um. Amazing, I guess.’ Nate was quiet for a moment, his eyes darting around like he was trying to find the words.
‘I’ve always dreamed about it. Being a singer, performing in front of an audience, getting a record deal.
Like, there are moments in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep when I’ve actually thought it might be possible, promised myself that I’ll put some stuff on social.
But then the cold light of day kicks in. ’
‘And then it doesn’t seem possible?’
Nate gave a hollow laugh. ‘Day to day I’m fine, but under pressure the anxiety can be pretty crippling. Booze helps, clearly. Listening to Chantal’s horrible singing was the final push I needed.’
Lucy laughed. ‘Just out of interest, what is it you’re scared of?’
‘That’s not how anxiety works,’ said Nate, shaking his head. ‘It’s not rational, it doesn’t behave in a logical, consistent way. Last night my brain gave me a break, but another day it might bring me to my knees.’
‘But if you were a recording artist you’d have people looking after you,’ said Lucy. ‘Lots of singers have mental health issues.’
‘Maybe,’ said Nate. ‘But to get that far, I have to put myself out there. Right now I can’t imagine ever being able to do that.’
‘Well, maybe an audience of eight in the Guntherhütte is the first step,’ said Lucy. ‘I’m really proud of you, you know.’
Nate looked up at her, his eyes narrowed like he was wondering if she was taking the piss.
‘No, really,’ she continued. ‘I know how hard that must have been for you. I saw the struggles Leo went through to do anything in front of people. Even standing up in class to answer a question. It used to turn him inside out.’
‘Yeah,’ said Nate, looking back at his feet. ‘I know that feeling.’
‘What was Chantal singing?’ asked Lucy, keen to keep Nate talking.
‘ “Ne Partez Pas Sans Moi” – it’s a Celine Dion song from the eighties. Monica said it won Eurovision, but I don’t know if that’s true. Apparently it was Gunther and Monica’s wedding song, so they were happy.’
‘Ah, that’s sweet.’
‘Although the song actually translates as “Don’t Leave Without Me”, which feels like an odd choice for a wedding.’
Lucy snorted with laughter. ‘Maybe Chantal was aiming it at you. That woman is crushing hard.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Nate, frowning at her.
‘Chantal. Don’t bother with a candle in this power cut, because Chantal is carrying a HUGE torch.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Nate in disbelief.
‘It’s not. Why do you think she told you about my personal sexual arrangements? It was a tactical move to ensure you don’t leave Zermatt without her. See? It all makes sense now.’
‘No, it doesn’t,’ laughed Nate, his eyes wide. ‘You’re still drunk.’
‘She wants you to take her away from all this,’ continued Lucy, gasping dramatically. ‘The song was a secret cry for help, because Gunther and Monica are keeping her hostage to the pizza oven.’
‘Well, that’s definitely not going to happen,’ said Nate. ‘Not my type at all.’
‘And what is your type exactly?’ said Lucy playfully. Mature women with executive powers and designer handbags?
‘Not Chantal,’ said Nate firmly, standing up and holding out his hand. ‘Come on, time for Gunther’s breakfast briefing.’
Lucy took his hand and hauled herself up, clamping her lips together and turning her head so he didn’t get a waft of coffee and hangover wine breath.
‘Another day in the mountains,’ she said brightly, feeling oddly excited about what the day might bring. ‘I wonder if we’ll get the power back? I could charge my phone.’
‘Hopefully our last day in the mountains,’ said Nate cheerfully. ‘Let’s make it count, shall we?’