“Ahem.” She cleared her throat into the microphone—not passive-aggressively, but clearly trying to keep it together. She threw Tom a quick look. “Uh, so, we have a quick—really quick—stop planned. It’s, uh, something pretty special, so, yeah.” She sat down quickly.
It was the first time I’d seen her flustered and I felt a modicum of pity for her.
Tom drove us north for about ten minutes, past a gun shop, a post office and a hair salon, and turned off into a side street and parked. As soon as we stopped, he opened the door and Georgina practically leapt off the coach. Then, for the first time during the whole tour, Tom picked up the microphone.
“Okay, guys. There’s a path just over there,” he said, pointing to his left, “and you’ll want to follow signs to the Lion of Lucerne. It’s a monument and it’s pretty amazing. Be back here in fifteen minutes. Don’t be late.”
There was loud silence as fifty-three people realised we had upset Mum and now Dad was in charge. When the moment ended, we shuffled off the coach, chastised and contrite, and walked en masse to the monument.
Wow.
It was a giant, intricate lion carved into the rockface. He’d been impaled and was dying, his face in anguish. The monument commemorated the Swiss Guards who had defended the French royal family and were massacred during the French Revolution in 1792. It was an incredible sculpture and very moving, leaving me a little breathless.
As Tom had directed us, we went, we saw, and we took photos. Less than fifteen minutes later, we were all back on the coach—even Georgina, who looked a little paler than usual—and Tom drove us up into the mountains to our next overnight destination, Lauterbrunnen.
Views of Lake Lucerne emerged and disappeared as we rounded bend after bend of the steep road. It was a magnificent sight, with teal water surrounded by what I will forever call “Swiss green” hills, and steep steel-grey mountains rising on all sides.
Each minute we drove further into the heart of Switzerland revealed more incredible beauty. It was emotionally exhausting gasping for breath that much, and at that altitude I was in grave danger of hyperventilating.
Lauterbrunnen pretty much put me over the edge.
“Oh, my fucking God,” I said as we drove along the valley floor between two sheer cliff faces. Lou gave a quiet “Ahem” next to me. She didn’t swear and she certainly didn’t blaspheme, so I figured the combination of “fucking” and “God” was too much for her. I apologised—although it was an OMFG moment.
The Swiss-green valley floor, with its pockets of leafy trees, undulated in a sequence of low hills. Giant mountains loomed either side, one casting half the valley into afternoon shadow. The narrow road wound among homes and shops, all textbook Swiss chalets in varying colours—chocolate brown, rusty brown and brilliant white. Window boxes spilled cascading flowers in vibrant splashes of red, yellow and pink, contrasting with wooden shutters in dusty green, white and natural wood. We passed a small paddock with the prettiest cows I’d ever seen, big brown eyes blinking placidly at us.
“Scratch what I said before about Lucerne,” I said to Lou over my shoulder.
“No kidding. This is … I don’t have the right words.”
“I know, right. Sublime? Epic? Paradise?”
“Those will do.”
My phone beeped with a message notification. Alex:
Okay. Thanks.
My mouth flattened into a line and I showed the phone to Lou.
“Oh, well, at least he got your apology.”
“I guess so.” I was certain there was nothing more I could say to Alex, so I closed the message and put my phone in my bag. Besides, there were more pressing matters—like the view.
Georgina looked a little brighter as she took up the microphone and I noticed that, like me, everyone sat up and shut up, giving her their full attention. “Okay,” she smiled brightly, and I wondered if she was doing the “fake it ’til you make it” thing. I’d done it myself many times, particularly when I was having a hard time and didn’t want to let on to my pupils. Teaching could be a soul-crushing job sometimes, and I knew from Sarah that managing a tour could be just as gruelling and thankless.
“As you can see, Lauterbrunnen is quite spectacular.” “Spectacular” was a good word. I filed it away. “You will have noticed on the rooming sheet that there are more people in each room than we’ve had before, but the rooms are quite unique. I also managed to get us into top-floor rooms, which have these great skylights. The stargazing is quite something here.” Good on you, Georgina! Way to make a comeback, I thought, suddenly her biggest fan.
“So, when you get off the coach, the reps will lead the way into the chalet and show you to your rooms. Dinner tonight is in the dining hall and tomorrow is a coach-free day, so if you’re not doing any of the excursions, have a great day exploring. The reps can give you some tips if you’re not sure what to do. Okay, so, I’ll see you later.”
We didn’t know it then, but we wouldn’t see her again until it was time to leave Lauterbrunnen the day after next.
“I feel awful about before. Poor Georgina,” said Lou as we gathered our things and waited to get off the coach.
“Yes, me too.” I decided to seek her out and see if she was all right, teacher to tour manager. I figured, at the very least, we had “controlling a wayward mob” in common.
When I stepped off the coach, I slung my bag onto my shoulder and stretched my arms up above my head. It had been a long day. Right as I indulged myself in a wide and very loud yawn, I heard a voice say, “Hello, Catherine.”
My mouth shut as though my puppeteer had closed her hand, and I spun in the direction of the voice.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
“Jean-Luc!” It came out as a squeak.
Chapter 15
My mouth dropped open again and hung in a loose variation of an O. I must have looked fabulous.
He moved closer, as people from the tour group parted around us like I was Moses. He took my hands in his and looked down at me with the kind of look film heroines dream of. “Hi,” he said, his mouth stretching into a spectacular grin.
“Hi,” I coughed out, quickly taking in the lived-in jeans and grey T-shirt draped perfectly from his perfect body. Jean-Luc. In Switzerland. I could not have been more surprised if Alex was standing there—or Scott. And how had it happened? I had so many questions.
Before I could ask any of them, Dani poked her head between us. “Hello, lovebirds.” Lovebirds? Mental note: kill Dani. “Cat, I hope you’ll forgive us for interfering, but …” She shrugged. It was hardly an apology and it was a monumental interference. Mental note: Really, kill Dani.
“So, how did you …?” I was baffled.
Jean-Luc took over explaining. I was glad, because Dani’s coy looks and ambiguous gesturing weren’t doing the trick. “I contacted Dani to ask where your next stop was after Venice. I wanted to see you again.”
All right, that makes sense. Did it, though? I had about half a second before I was expected to say something, and I spent all of it trying to remember how we’d left things in Rome. I certainly hadn’t said, “Hey, come to Switzerland and surprise me.” Maybe that was why they were called surprises.