By now the wind is blowing so hard it’s a struggle to hear. My goggles have steamed up, so I can’t see – and we haven’t even started yet. I take them off, wipe them and put them back, but if anything it makes them worse.
‘The terrain isn’t too difficult but in these conditions it’s important to take it slowly. I’ll lead – to start with, at least. Try to stay close behind me. There’s no rush; obviously I will go at your pace,’ Cameron says.
‘We’re not a couple of old ladies!’ Adam booms. ‘We can keep up. Don’t worry about that.’
He nods. ‘Fine. Shall we go then?’
We set off. Cameron leads, too slowly, while another guide in the same jacket who has joined us hangs back behind. Adam quickly overtakes so that he is in front of us all. I am happier taking it at a leisurely pace – the snow is deeper than I’m used to and the visibility is almost nil. A couple of minutes later, the second guide whizzes by me, and half a minute later I find Adam and Cameron waiting on a bend.
‘So. This next bit’s steeper. You’ll need to take it easy. I can see you like speed,’ Cameron says to Adam as pointedly as you can when you’re having to shout to be heard over the wind, ‘but there are two things you should know about that: it’s dangerous to go faster than is suitable for your ability, and skiing accurately is much more important than skiing fast.’
I smirk – neither of them will be able to see under my various scarves and layers. That little reprimand will have pissed Adam off no end. He can’t stand being told what to do or having his skiing ability questioned.
‘Got you,’ Adam says, not bothering to hide his irritation.
‘Right,’ says Cameron. ‘I’m going to lead – please watch where I go and don’t overtake me this time. I know the route very well and it’s dangerous for you to race ahead off-piste in these conditions when you don’t know the terrain. Understood?’
‘Got you, like I said,’ Adam repeats, even more irritably. Cameron nods and skis off, slick as anything.
‘For fuck’s sake, was there really any need for him – whatever his name is – to speak to me like that?’ Adam grumbles.
‘It’s what ski guides do – try to keep you safe. It’s their job.’
‘Try to patronize me, more like,’ Adam retorts. He uses his poles to push himself off, not as fast and not nearly as slick as Cameron, whatever Adam might think. And then, on his second turn, he falls.
I watch in horror as he tumbles down the slope and both skis ping off. It’s pretty steep here and it’s snowing so hard that soon he is out of sight. Fuck.
‘Adam!’ I yell. ‘You OK?’
Silence. Or rather, not silence, just a howling wind. Would he have even heard me shouting? Would I be able to hear him?
‘ADAM!’ I yell again. Nothing.
‘I’M COMING DOWN!’ I holler. ‘Stay where you are!’
Fuck. Fuck. I’m never good in these kind of situations. He’ll be fine, I tell myself. I push myself away and ski down carefully, slowly. Of the two of us – not that I’d ever admit it – Adam is the better skier and I don’t know what made him fall. Ice? A rock? Just bad luck? I don’t want the same to happen to me.
Oh God. Oh God. At least his skis came off, so hopefully he won’t have hurt his legs.
Shit! His skis! Where are they? I look back up the slope, but the snow is too deep. I can’t see them; they could be anywhere. Never mind. I’ll worry about that later. More important to find my brother.
‘ADAM!’ I shout again. ‘ADAM!’
This time I think I hear something – though it may just have been the wind. ‘Stay there! I’m coming!’ I shout, uselessly.
Then I hear it. ‘Over here!’
I feel a bolt of relief shoot through me. Thank God! ‘Where are you?’ I shout.
‘Over here, you useless bastard,’ he shouts back, making it clear to me in an instant that he’s not hurt. ‘In the snow.’
‘Oh, in the snow! That helps,’ I yell back sarcastically. ‘Now I know exactly where you are.’
‘Over here, you bellend.’
I follow the sound of his voice, though it’s difficult to hear him over the sound of the wind. I ski as slowly as I can, making a few slow, gentle turns. I don’t want to fall. A little further down, Adam’s colourful jacket looms into sight through the whiteness. ‘There you are. What happened?’ I ask.
‘Dunno. Caught an edge, I guess.’ He pauses. ‘Where are my skis?’
My stomach lurches. I should have picked them up, but I panicked, wanting to get to Adam. Then again, he shouldn’t have fallen. ‘Where you left them, I would have thought,’ I say, evenly.
‘For fuck’s sake, Will, didn’t you think to get them on the way down?’
Nice; he cocks it up and somehow it’s all my fault. ‘I thought I should come and see if you’d broken your back or fallen off a precipice or something, you ungrateful shit.’
‘Right. So how am I meant to get down now?’
We both listen to the wind howl for a few beats.
‘I could ski down, find the guides and then we come up again and find your skis on the way down?’ I suggest.
‘No way,’ Adam says, hauling himself to his feet. ‘It’s bloody freezing, I’m not sitting here on my soaking wet arse while you do that. I can’t have fallen that far, let’s hike up a bit and find my skis. Can’t be that hard.’
I look up the slope. It’s barely possible to tell the difference between the ground and the air, and you certainly can’t see the sky. Everything is white.
I shake my head. ‘I don’t think that’s going to work. Your skis could be anywhere – we’ll never find them. I think it’s better if—’
‘Fine,’ Adam snaps. ‘Do what you like. I’m going up the slope to look for my skis. You carry on down if you want.’
Adam starts trudging up the slope. After a couple of steps, he tips himself forward and puts his hands in the ground and continues to scrabble up that way – it’s too steep to go up any further without doing so.
For fuck’s sake. I can’t leave him here on his own. I click my boots out of my skis and follow Adam up the hill, awkwardly carrying my skis and poles with me. I can’t put them down – I might not find them again.
It’s hard work, and very soon I can feel myself sweating under my ski jacket in spite of the bitingly cold wind. I stay at a distance from Adam – there’s no point in us both covering the same ground. I’m about to shout up to him that this is pointless, that I’ve changed my mind, that I’m going to go and find the guides, get to a ski shop and bring him back some new skis, anything to get off this fucking freezing cold mountain with no visibility when Adam shouts ‘I’ve got one!’
Thank God for that. I crawl over to where Adam is brandishing his ski like a javelin. ‘See!’ he crows. ‘Told you. It’s all going to be fine. Now the other one must be around here somewhere. Let’s keep looking.’
We start poking around with our ski poles but, whatever Adam says, there’s no guarantee it will be close by and it’s impossible to see anything. The snow is really deep here.