I realize what I have to do to make her help me. ‘Will isn’t your father,’ I whisper. ‘Wasn’t your father.’
‘Yes, he is,’ she snaps. ‘Mama told me. And I did my research. There’s almost nothing I don’t know about his so-called “accident”, about him, and about you. That’s why I came to work for Snow Snow – I wanted to mess up Cameron’s company – he also played his part in this as the ski guide who didn’t bother to keep my dad safe. Originally I was going to poison guests randomly – not kill them – perhaps a dodgy prawn here, some undercooked chicken and a bit of salmonella there. I brought the mushrooms with me, dried – some more poisonous than others. I wasn’t really planning to use the big guns, though – not initially.’
I try to concentrate on what she’s saying but the room is still spinning and I feel like I’m about to pass out.
‘But then Dad’s body was found, you turned up, and my plans changed,’ she continues. ‘I was going to kill both you and Cameron that night with the mushroom risotto, because that’s what you both deserve, but then you all switched places so I had to spill the wine and smash glass over everything so that no more innocent people got hurt because of you.’
I need to stop her. Need to get her to help me. I need to tell her. It’s my only chance.
‘You’ve got it wrong,’ I utter. ‘Will was infertile. Would never have been able to have children naturally.’ My chest is heaving and I can barely breathe. ‘Please, Millie, get me some help. I’m begging you.’
There is silence for a few seconds, when all I can hear is my own laboured breathing.
‘What?’ she says cautiously. ‘He wasn’t infertile. How could he be?’
‘Cancer,’ I breathe. ‘When he was a child. Made him sterile. He probably hadn’t told your mum.’
‘But then …’
Oh God. This happened. It happened. I need to tell her. Make her stop this. ‘I must be your father,’ I manage to force out. ‘Me and your mum – we had a thing. That holiday. While Will was out skiing one afternoon. Please, Millie, I …’
She claps her hand over her mouth. ‘But she hated you. The last time I saw her, before she died. She said it was all your fault that my dad – Will – died. She called you a cunt. It was the only time I heard her use that word.’
My body convulses again. ‘I’ll tell you everything, Millie, please …’
‘You’re not my father!’ she yells. I can see tears running down her face. ‘I don’t want a man like you as my father! You’re lying!’ She puts her hands over her ears, closes her eyes, and starts shouting. ‘No, no, no! Stop saying that! You’re not my dad! You killed my dad!’
‘Please call an ambulance …’ I whisper, and then there is nothing.
63
January 2020, La Madière, France
Millie
It’s the day of my dad’s funeral.
Adam is in hospital. He’s unconscious. They’re saying he might pull through, but knowing exactly how many mushrooms he ate and when, I’m pretty sure he won’t.
Considering how long ago Dad died and his lack of living family, there is quite a good turnout for the service. Matt is here. And Didier. Cameron isn’t. He is no doubt busy dealing with the fallout from a man being fatally poisoned in one of his chalets. It’s hardly good PR, is it? I sent a few anonymous emails to some newspapers last night to make sure everyone knew about it. I wouldn’t want an incident like this to get swept under the carpet. I’m helpful like that.
I’ve been questioned by the police of course, and will be questioned again, but I’m not worried. I’m just a silly little chalet girl after all – not a mushroom expert. I can’t be blamed if I was supplied bad mushrooms. I doubt Cameron can be either, but the publicity certainly won’t do him or Snow Snow any good.
There is no one to give a eulogy as such, but Didier from the resort says a few words about how the mountains can give and can take away and how saddened the entire resort is that this man was taken so young. I read the Charlotte Brontë poem – I made a big deal to the funeral director of how I had helped Adam to plan the funeral and lied about how he had asked me to read the poem and to help him scatter the ashes because he didn’t want to do it by himself.
‘Everybody Hurts’ plays and I watch as the curtain closes behind the coffin.
Later, I will collect the ashes. I’m going to take them to the top of the last lift Dad took and let them go. I said that that was what Adam had planned to do and I’d like to pay my respects to both men by doing it for him. No one else can be bothered with it; they’re happy to have the job taken off their hands. No one cares about my dad now but me. Everyone else is dead, except Adam, who also doesn’t care and will be dead soon too.
And as for Adam saying he was my biological father? It’s not true. Mama would have told me. He just said that in a desperate attempt to try to make me call an ambulance. Which I did, eventually, but only because I knew it was already too late for him. And either way, Mama hated him. She blamed him for killing the love of her life. It was what he did that drove her to suicide. It was what he did that ruined my childhood. I did the right thing. He wasn’t my father.
Epilogue
Six months later
Ria
I smooth my hand over my bump and feel a small kick. I didn’t ever expect to enjoy being pregnant, but actually it’s kind of nice. Cosy.
We are having a girl. Hugo is so excited. The house is full of flowers and little gifts for me; he can’t help himself.
While Hugo and I will probably never exactly be Romeo and Juliet, since I told him about what happened in the past, we’ve grown a lot closer. Hugo has made me see a therapist and while I never thought therapy would be my thing, it’s made me see things more clearly.
I’ve never forgiven myself for what happened on the mountain and have been punishing myself ever since, according to my therapist. And although I thought I’d married Hugo purely as a way out from my desperate life and failing business, the couples’ counselling we’ve also been having has made me see that there was more to it than that. More to him than being a source of money and a way to stop Cameron telling the world about what I did. It turns out I do like Hugo after all; he is a good man and he would do anything for me. In time, I’m sure I can grow to love him. I’m determined to, for the sake of our baby.
As for Adam … well, that was unfortunate. Mistakes with mushrooms happen now and again even in the smartest of restaurants, apparently, and even to people who are very experienced with funghi. There are some types which can look very like another, so they say. It was lucky we didn’t eat the risotto that night, otherwise we could have all been in the same boat. But it was only poor Adam who had the full English the next morning. No one could have predicted the consequences.
In the end, Hugo didn’t take on the Snow Snow chalets – the story about the poisoning was in the press on and off for several weeks and no business in their right mind would take on chalets where something like that had happened. I have severed all ties with Cameron – my therapist has made me see that I have nothing to fear from him, plus Hugo now knows about what happened all those years ago anyway. It turns out Cameron was right about that. Nobody is bothered about it apart from me, and even I’m learning to let it go.