‘What if I don’t want speed?’
‘That’s what I’m telling you. To slow and stop, make your feet into a triangle shape, like a slice of pizza. Bring your toes together but do not cross skis. And keep your heels apart. Got it?’
‘French fries, go; pizza, stop. Got it.’
They heard Bella calling something up, the kids must be bored and freezing.
‘OK, I’m just going down far enough to check the kids are OK and know to wait, then I’ll pull myself back up and come to you.’
Emme thought about Tristan, his physicality, and hung her head.
Not now.
‘Don’t go anywhere, yah?’
‘No chance,’ she smiled with some irony.
Tristan whizzed straight down the slope to the kids while Emme gathered herself, taking long and measured breaths towards the Silberschnee to try to calm her racing heart. She didn’t move an inch, apart from to crane her head to see Tristan heaving backupthe mountain, part skiing, part stepping up into the slope. He looked like he was fighting a force. She could almost hear his grunts of effort, defying physics and gravity as he tested every muscle in his strong body to get back to her. She felt guilty now.
‘You OK?’ he called up.
‘Yes,’ she conceded. It was her ego that was bruised more than her body. ‘Thank you,’ she said, as he reached her.
He said nothing, but wiped his brow between his helmet and the top of his ski goggles. She was relieved she couldn’t see his penetrating eyes right now.
‘Are they OK?’
‘Yes, bored, but they’re waiting.’
‘Oh god…’ Emme panicked a little.
‘It’s fine. Look I’m going to cradle you down. You needto stand between my legs, keep your toes pointing in and your heels out– but don’t let your skis cross, got it?’
‘Got it.’
‘We’ll start to the side and then I’ll gently turn us, the important thing is not to panic. Relax and go with me.’
Emme let out an uncertain whimper. She hated the feeling of being out of control. She just wanted to be back in the village, to be in the Harringtons’ warm apartment, although something about Tristan was starting to calm her as he stood behind her, framing her in their stance, his skis outside of hers, his shoulders curled and his arms cradling Emme’s body.
‘Tuck your poles in.’
‘OK,’ Emme said, suddenly feeling honoured by his touch.
‘We’re not going to fly, we’re just going to take it slowly. Focus on your toes and I’ll do all the rest.’
If this wasn’t so terrifying it would be glorious. The Silberschnee was tinged almost pink as the sun was getting low over the opposite ridge; the view was beautiful. Tristan smelled beautiful– she could feel his breath on her neck– but the tension and fear ruined the mountain idyll. Emme’s knees were locked to the point her thighs burned. Her fists gripped her redundant poles for dear life.
Tristan enveloped her and guided her down, turning slowly, as they snaked towards the kids waiting at the bottom. She almost didn’t want to reach them, she yearned for their closeness not to end. She wanted to take in the view for longer, for Tristan to press closer into her back, so she could feel what the women on the balcony could feel, but he didn’t, he kept just the right amount of distanceneeded to safely steer her down to the kids, who were bored and bemused, waiting at the bottom.
‘Finally!’ Harry said.
‘Are you OK?’ Bella asked.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Emme smiled.
‘Right, kids, go in front of me now, but not too far ahead,’ Tristan commanded, as he guided them down two blue slopes and three nerve-wracking reds, until they got back to town.
‘Oh, no ski train?’ Emme asked, confused, when they reached the village.
