‘Oh. It wasn’t far then,’ I say as we both climb off.
Matt smiles kindly. ‘No. But many of our clients don’t like to walk through the snow, so it’s a service we provide. Normally it’s a four by four rather than a snowcat, as it’s easier with the luggage, but the snow’s too deep today.’
Matt pushes open a heavy wooden door and I’m instantly grateful for the warmth inside. There’s a row of hotel-style slippers lined up inside the door, so I follow Matt’s lead in slipping off my manky raincoat and sodden shoes (I take off my socks too, which are also soaked), and push my feet into the soft, puffy slippers. They are chocolate brown with a pattern which makes them look like they’ve been knitted. In that moment they feel like the most comfortable and comforting thing I’ve ever worn.
‘Let’s get you inside, show you your room and introduce you to the others. I think the – uh – formalities are taking place tomorrow? I’m not sure exactly what you’ve arranged with the police, and things keep changing anyway on account of the weather. But if you’d like to see where your brother – Will – was found, or any other part of the resort, anything that helps you generally, well, you know, say the word and I’m sure it can be arranged.’
I nod. ‘Thank you.’ Almost the worst part of all this is everyone else’s embarrassment. Why can’t anyone treat me normally? It all happened a long time ago. We’ve all moved on.
Matt opens a heavy door into a beautiful open-plan living/dining room with a huge window, stone walls, blond wood, and fur throws everywhere.
Matt clears his throat. ‘Hello, everyone. This is Adam, our new guest – I believe Millie will have told you …’
Everyone looks up. ‘Let me in introduce you to everyone,’ Matt continues, ‘Simon …’
A portly man with a flushed face and comb-over gets up out of a leather armchair and comes over and shakes my hand. ‘Good to meet you. Sorry for your loss.’
I smile tightly. ‘Thank you.’
‘This is my wife, Cass,’ he adds, indicating a very young, awkward-looking woman sitting with a similar-aged woman on a sheepskin rug half-heartedly dangling a plastic toy above a baby who is intermittently swiping at it, ‘our son Inigo and nanny Sarah.’
One of the women gives me a sympathetic smile and raises her hand in greeting. The other doesn’t look at me. I’ve already forgotten which woman is the wife and which the nanny, but I don’t imagine it matters.
Another man, younger and fitter-looking than Simon, stands up from the sofa. ‘Welcome. I’m Hugo. Good to meet you. Sorry it’s in such circumstances.’
I nod. ‘Thank you. And thank you all for allowing me to crash your chalet. I’m not sure what I’d have done otherwise.’
A door opens and a young, pretty girl wearing a long-sleeved polo shirt with the same logo as Matt’s jacket comes in with a tray of champagne glasses and places them on the table.
‘And this is Millie, who will be looking after you during your stay,’ Matt adds.
She straightens up. ‘Hello. I’m so sorry for your loss. And I’m sorry we weren’t able to get Chalet Alpaca ready for you in time. But we hope you’ll be very comfortable here. Please don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything we can do to make your stay … well, just don’t hesitate.’
She uncorks the champagne – which seems odd to me as the mood is hardly celebratory, but I guess people expect champagne before dinner in a high-end chalet like this. It was the kind of thing I aspired to the last time I was here, after all, but couldn’t yet quite afford. Or rather, Will and his little girlfriend couldn’t. A few years on, this would probably have been me, if it hadn’t been for what happened on the mountain. I haven’t skied since.
‘Will Ria be joining us for dinner?’ Millie asks Hugo.
He sighs loudly. ‘I’m not sure. She was … she said she wasn’t feeling too well earlier. I’ll go and check on her in a minute if that’s OK?’
She nods. ‘Of course. I only wanted to know how many to set the table for. But no rush.’
‘No problem. I’ll go and see what she says,’ Hugo replies.
Millie hands everyone champagne flutes and I sit down. There is an awkward silence.
‘So, um, have you had a good week?’ I venture. May as well stick to the standard ski holiday chat I just about remember, as no one is going to want to talk about my dead brother. Least of all me.
‘Weather hasn’t been the best, obviously,’ Simon says, ‘but we got one day in the sun and then some amazing powder, so can’t complain. And anyway, under the circumstances … well, there are worse things than bad weather.’
Simon turns a deeper shade of red and takes a large gulp of his champagne. I can’t cope with much more of this. I put my glass down on the table and draw my hand across my mouth.
‘Look, I appreciate your … solicitude and kindness and I’m sorry to be intruding on your holiday like this. But Will, my brother, died a long time ago. I’ve come to terms with that. Identifying his body is an unpleasant formality and, as I’m sure you will understand, there are many places I’d rather be than here, but there’s no need to handle me with kid gloves.’
Silence.
‘And now I feel like I’m being incredibly rude.’ I stand up. ‘Perhaps I should go up to my room, leave you good people to it.’
Simon stands up too. ‘You’re not being rude. We’re being insensitive. Please, you must be tired and ravenous after travelling for however long it’s been. Stay and have dinner with us. We’ll feel terrible if we’ve driven you away.’
By now I just want to lie down on my bed and go to sleep but, if I do that, it’s going to look like I’m storming off like a toddler having a tantrum. So I force myself to smile and say: ‘I’m sorry. It’s been a long couple of days and I’m very tired. I think I’ll go and have a quick shower – I’ve been in these same clothes for days – and then I’ll join you.’
‘We’ll eat in about an hour, so plenty of time,’ Millie says, placing a plate of exquisite-looking canapés on the table. ‘Matt has already taken your bag up, so I’ll show you where your room is now, if you’re ready.’
I down the rest of my champagne and stand up. ‘That would be great, thank you.’
Millie leads me up two flights of stairs and opens a door. It’s an eaves room with sloping ceilings and a Velux window. There’s a double bed made up with white linen and covered with a fur throw, and a fleece-covered chair. A small door in one wall looks like it probably leads to the bathroom.
‘I’m sorry it’s rather small,’ Millie says, ‘but I hope you’ll find it comfortable. There are towels and toiletries in the bathroom, and if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to let me know. There’s no code for the Wi-Fi – it’s open. Though it’s not working too well because of the weather, I’m afraid.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘I very much appreciate you putting me up.’
‘Cameron – the owner of the chalet – felt that it was the least we can do. He’s coming for dinner to pay his respects, so you can thank him then if you like. But there’s really no need – he’s very happy to have you here.’ There is a pause. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’