Chapter 35
35
Pacing the floor – treading the creaking floorboards, which only makes all of this even more creepy – I try to steady my racing heart and my sharp breaths which are, probably technically speaking, in panic-attack territory, but I’m trying to run it in the background, so that Henri doesn’t think I’m a dork. Hopefully I’m coming across as fidgety, rather than like I’m freaking out.
The cabin would be completely dark were it not for the flickering glow of the fire – although somehow this only makes things seem creepier. It’s marginally better than total darkness, of course, and I’m grateful for the warmth.
It’s late now, and no one has turned up to rescue us. Every creak of the wood, every gust of wind outside, every thing sends shivers down my spine. Even without everything I’ve ever seen in every horror movie ever running through my mind, it’s cold here, and we only have so much food. It’s glorified camping.
Henri is much more chill about it. He’s sitting by the fire, the reflection of the flames dancing in his eyes as he warms his hands.
‘Don’t worry, Amber,’ he reassures me, his voice calming. ‘People knew I was coming here. I’ll be missed – the resort relies on me for too much. Someone will come.’
I nod, but I’m not convinced.
‘Even if they don’t come until morning, it will be okay,’ he continues. ‘If you want to take the bed, wrap yourself up under the covers, and I’ll add more wood to the fire. I’ll wake you, if anyone comes, but otherwise try to get a good rest. I will take care of you.’
Oh boy, now we’re going to have to sleep here? Really? I mean, at least it’s warmer in here than it is outside, and slightly less scary, but… come on.
As I glance around the cabin, I can’t help but smile to myself. I can’t believe I’ve walked right into a classic trope – perhaps the most iconic one there is – there’s only one bed. Oh my God, there’s only one bed. What am I going to do?
I shake with cold as I watch Henri push the two small armchairs together. He tries to get on them, to make a sort of bed out of them, but he looks like he’s struggling to keep his balance.
Shivering, I get into the bed, pulling the blankets around me tightly. My teeth are chattering, and I can’t seem to get warm.
I can see Henri, still struggling to keep his balance on the chairs – and without a blanket – and I feel a pang of guilt.
‘Henri, you can’t sleep like that,’ I tell him. ‘Just share the bed with me. I don’t mind.’
He looks at me with a playful glint in his eye.
‘You just want my body heat,’ he says.
I laugh, despite the cold.
‘I mean that won’t hurt, come on, I’m sure we can both fit,’ I tell him.
It’s one of those beds that is a little bit bigger than a single, but a little bit smaller than a double.
Henri hesitates for a moment before climbing into the small bed beside me. The lack of space forces him to spoon me but I can’t complain because his body heat almost instantly calms my shivers. As his arms wrap around me, suddenly I don’t feel so scared any more.
‘I am actually much warmer,’ I murmur, snuggling closer. ‘God, I can’t believe we’re stuck here.’
Henri chuckles softly.
‘You know, there are rumours of a yeti in these mountains,’ he says, his voice like he’s telling a ghost story around a campfire.
I roll around to face him, playfully swatting his chest.
‘Stop trying to scare me!’ I tick him off – although it does lighten the mood. Obviously I’m not worried about a yeti.
His laughter rumbles in his chest, and our faces are so close that I can feel his warm breath. Things are playful for a second or two until there’s a shift. It’s like the air changes as his eyes lock on to mine, and slowly but surely I notice his lips heading for mine.
I don’t know what to do, other than hold my breath, and freeze (it’s oh-so easy to freeze right now). Our lips brush together, very lightly, for a split second, before a loud knock on the door makes us both jump.
Henri bolts from the bed, rushing to the door. He speaks in rapid French with the person outside. After a moment, he turns back to me.
‘It’s okay, it’s my colleague,’ he says, relief evident in his voice. ‘He’s come looking for me. He says he’ll take us back to the chateau.’
It’s only now that I can exhale. Henri helps me up, and we gather our things quickly, and in awkward silence. As we step outside into the cold night, loading our things into Henri’s colleague’s car, I can’t help but glance back at the cabin. I’m so, so glad that I didn’t have to spend the night there, not just because it was cold, or because of the potential yeti outside, but because things with Henri were heating up, and I’m not exactly sure it’s what I wanted.