‘Sorry, mate, I’m so hungry. Last slope and we head back, okay?’
Charles scoffs and moves his skis away from the footrests, allowing Alex to swing the safety bar up.
How much did Loris care? Does he give second chances? Charles can’t even use Enzo as a point of reference, that’s another puzzle he’s missing too many pieces of.
The guy remains a complete waste of grey matter.
Charles slides around a kid, who’s fallen in the disembarking zone, and stops on the edge of the nearest slope to zip up his jacket. Alex skids next to him and sinks his poles into the snow between them.
‘Was your mystery person responsible for your actions?’
‘No.’ Charles chuckles nervously, fiddling with the corner of his ski pass. ‘All me.’
‘Then it doesn’t matter if they forgive you or send you packing. You need to explain yourself.’
‘But if they’re too—’
‘You need to do it, regardless of the outcome. You can’t do the right thing only when you might benefit from it. You do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do.’
Charles scowls. ‘You’re annoying.’
‘Go to Phil or Spencer if you don’t want to chat with theangel on your shoulder.’
‘Fair… Talking about Spencer, should we go off-piste?’
‘Your call.’ Alex switches on the GoPro on his chest mount. ‘You’re the actor, I’m just here to whoop like he would.’
Bored on the terrace of their chalet, his casted leg on a footstool, Spencer has entrusted them with his recording gear. He will post a holiday vlog on his YouTube channel, pretending he injured himself at the end of the week.
Charles fixes the straps of his poles around his wrists. ‘It looks safe until that grove.’
‘Lead the way. And think about what you’re gonna say to that poor piece of cake.’
‘Wasn’t I the cake in that analogy?’
‘Whatever. Your first and main 2019 resolution tonight should be to quit hurting dessert lovers.’
Charles smiles and propels himself towards a steeper zone.
He already knows what he wants to say to Loris. Every single time he pictures the scene, he finds the words. But every single time, his mindset has changed again, and the scene and the words are like night and day.
***
Charles wishes he could have stayed in Kitzbühel and spent more evenings on the balcony of their chalet, gazing at stars that only appear above mountains. He filled half a notebook with ideas for his novel.
But since he returned, two days ago, he’s been stuck. His mind is cloaked like the London sky, polluted by preoccupations he didn’t have to worry about in Austria: distracting Elsy from lustful intent, puppet-performing for his parents and making a definitive decisionregarding Loris.
Patty said that he will be back at work on Tuesday, which at 11pm on Saturday no longer qualifies as a ‘next week problem’.
Charles collects his drink from the counter and moves away from a loud group of women comparing vibrator brands. Ordering a scotch wasn’t the smartest decision after two large glasses of wine and three cocktails, but he was craving one.
‘Chaaaaarles!’
Emerging from the toilets, Divya grabs him by the neck. She raises her phone for a selfie, then gambols towards the area of the bar that Elsy has reserved for her leaving party.
She’s only going to Chicago for three weeks, as part of a university programme, but she woke up in the mood for a messy gathering. She used her departure as a pretext and secured a place in Mayfair as well as a full attendance, because she’s Elsy Buchanan.
She’s flying tomorrow and Charles is fretting about the naked send-off she might expect from him later.
