Cameron has been showing me round all his chalets in the resort today. He is still no less of a cock than when we first met but I have to admit, the chalets are impressive and he seems to know the luxury market inside out.
‘How many weeks of the year would you typically have bookings?’ I ask.
He gives me a withering look, even though I’m sure my question is a perfectly sensible one. ‘We’re usually as good as fully booked for the winter season, plus we’ll get a good few weeks in the summer. But there are enough people out there with more money than sense to make the chalets pay; you can charge absolutely ridiculous money for the peak winter weeks. Sometimes very rich families will book one of the smaller ones like this for most of the season – they’ll bring the kids, the nanny, the tutor etcetera and come and go in a private plane or helicopter, since we have an altiport here. They might only end up being here for a total of four weeks or so out of the season and we make a mint on it because they’ve paid for several months. Some of them who come out don’t even ski. It’s beyond me why they pay the prices I charge, but they do, so I’m not complaining.’
‘Sounds good,’ I say, wondering if Cameron’s contempt for his clients is really a good fit for Redbush’s wholesome and personal service-led image. ‘And do you yourself have much, um, contact with the clients?’
He makes a noise which sounds a bit like a bark, which I think is actually what passes for a laugh with him. Not for the first time this week I wish Olivia was here; she’s so much better at dealing with people like Cameron than I am. And so much more consistent than Ria, for that matter.
‘Fuck no,’ he says. ‘I’ve only made an appearance this week because you’re the head honcho at Redbush and Simon’s wedged. I’m out of here after tonight. I only come up from the valley for skiing or biking usually, or if someone needs a massive bollocking. And speaking of bollocking, I’m still wondering what to do about Millie’s display last night. On the whole, she’s exactly the kind of girl I like on staff – not fussed about skiing or going out and getting drunk as far as I can tell – but such clumsiness at dinner in front of guests is unforgivable.’
‘It was a simple mistake,’ I say. ‘Could have happened to anyone. Please don’t sack her. She’s been amazing all week.’ It’s not my place to say that to Cameron but I get the impression he needs me at least as much as I need him. I hope I’m conveying ‘I don’t want to do business with you if you’re the type who would sack a young girl over something like that’, but I’m not sure it’s coming across. Poor Millie. I don’t want her to lose her job over some broken glass.
‘Hmmm,’ he says. ‘You’re a better man than me. And I guess it would be tricky to replace her at short notice at this point in the season anyway – busy period coming up. I’ll think about it.’ There is a pause. ‘Anyway, going back to your question, I’m just here for the mountains. I have as little contact with the punters as possible – I leave that to the experts like Millie and Matt. I’m not a great fan of the general public as you may be able to tell.’
I’m not sure if this is meant to be a joke or not so I smile blandly. I don’t want Redbush clients coming into contact with someone like Cameron day to day, but I do think the chalets would be a good addition to our stable.
‘Well, they’re certainly beautiful properties and I’ve been very impressed by the level of your service and everything else this week,’ I say, adding ‘apart from you personally’ silently to myself. ‘Perhaps you could send through details of your pricing structure for the various chalets and we’ll have a look at including you in our luxe range, if we can agree suitable commission and the like. My assistant usually deals with that side of things – I’m not very good with figures.’
Cameron smirks and claps me on the shoulder. I flinch and hope he doesn’t notice.
‘Gotcha. Yeah, I don’t deal with any of that stuff these days either. But I’ll get my numbers person to give yours a call and hopefully we can strike a deal. I think we can help each other out.’
‘Yes, I think so too,’ I reply. Which is true.
‘I’m on a three-line whip to come for dinner again tonight,’ Cameron adds. ‘Matt and Didier think I should put in another appearance for the dead man’s brother, and I need to stay in Didier’s good books. So I’ll see you later. Your lovely wife out of bed yet?’
I wince. It sounds so suggestive when he puts it like that. ‘Ria?’ I say pointedly. She has a name. ‘I think she’s feeling better, thank you.’
‘It’s been great to see her again. We go back a long way.’
‘Really?’ This is news to me. I feel a lurch of alarm. Ria and Cameron know each other? Since when? Is this something else she hasn’t told me about?
He does that weird bark/laugh again and it makes me shudder. ‘Ah, silly me – I forgot,’ he says, in a sly way which makes it clear he didn’t. ‘I wasn’t supposed to mention it. Not sure why – you’d need to ask her. She’s a dark horse, isn’t she? Yeah, we worked together. Long time ago. Practically a different lifetime, in fact.’
‘Oh yes, that does ring a bell actually,’ I lie. It definitely doesn’t. I would have remembered something like that. I feel sick. Why wouldn’t Ria have told me? I don’t want Cameron to know that my wife isn’t being honest with me, so I try my hardest to remain nonchalant, but all the while alarms are going off in my head. I’m sure he knew I didn’t know – I bet he only told me just now so that he can feel like he has the upper hand here.
Have they slept together? Is that it? Is that why she didn’t tell me they know each other? Is that why she asked him not to say anything? Is that why she keeps not wanting to come to dinner? Is that why she’s being so weird and strange this week and saying she wants to go home the whole time? Is that even why she doesn’t want to have children with me – does she still have a thing for him? My face grows hot and I need to be away from this man. I mumble something about being in touch soon and make a dash for the door.
Ria is in bed reading when I get back. She puts down her iPad and smiles at me. ‘Hey. How was the chalet tour?’
‘It was … illuminating,’ I say curtly.
‘Oh yes?’ She nuzzles against me. ‘I imagine they’re all pretty much like this one, aren’t they? Showy luxury for people who like to feel they deserve only the best?’
I feel a pang of love for her, I can’t help it. ‘They are. But it wasn’t that that was illuminating – the chalets were pretty much as I expected them to be. Cameron says you and he already know each other. Is that true?’
She sits up, looking appalled. ‘He promised! I mean … what did he say?’ she squeaks.
‘I want to hear it from you,’ I snap. ‘How do you know each other?’
I didn’t realize this actually happened in real life, but the colour drains from her face.
‘Hugo … why do you need to know?’ she whispers. ‘It was all so long ago …’
I knew it. ‘He’s an ex!’ I shout, my voice coming out much louder than I was expecting. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Fuck, I must look like such a twat! He’ll have been laughing at me all week! No wonder he has such a smug expression on his face the whole time. God, Ria!’