‘Like I said last night, no thank you. I can buy my own drinks.’
Glancing skywards, a huge breath escaped his mouth in a plume of tiny white crystals and his shoulders slumped a little. ‘OK. I give up. But whether you care or not, I am genuinely sorry about what I said.’ With a final nod, he turned his skis downhill. ‘Just in case you change your mind about the drink– I’ll be in the Cocoon tomorrow, at one o’clock.’
And before she could tell him she’d rather drop dead than meet him at the Cocoon, he was gone.
Chapter 6
Madeleine wondered if she would ever get full use of her legs back. Having made it safely back to the lodge, it was all she could do not to whimper as Rose pulled her boots off for her.
‘Is it supposed to hurt this much?’ she said.
Rose laughed, slotting Madeleine’s boots onto the heated rack fixed to the wall before she pulled her own feet free. ‘You’ll get used to it,’ she said, putting her own boots beside Madeleine’s. Sliding onto the bench, she wiggled her toes around. ‘Hello, feet.’
‘You’re so cheerful about it,’ Madeleine said, aware her voice was dangerously close to sounding whiny, but unable to do anything about it. She sniffed, the rise in temperature compared to outside taking effect on her nose.
‘What you need is a hot shower and a cup of tea. You’ll be good as new.’
‘If you say so.’
‘There’ll be cake, too.’
That piqued her interest. ‘What kind?’ Say chocolate, she thought. A piece of chocolate cake would be just what the doctor ordered.
‘Not sure. There’s usually a different one each day.’
‘Wrong answer,’ she said.
‘Chocolate?’ Rose suggested.
‘That’s better,’ Madeleine said. ‘I was considering just getting it over and done with and dying right here before I have to attempt the stairs. But if there’s chocolate cake …’ She grinned.
‘And hot tea.’ Rose grinned in return.
Madeleine heaved herself up. ‘Let’s go. But just so you know, if the cake isn’t chocolate, there might still be a problem.’
‘Get up those stairs, Maddy, before I kick your backside up them.’
‘You bloody would, too. Wouldn’t you?’
‘Well, I’m not carrying you up, that’s for sure.’
Two painfully steep flights later, and Madeleine crested the top of the stairs leading to the main living area. Clara was looking revoltingly comfortable on one of the three-seater sofas, stretched out lengthways with a book in her hand.
‘I thought I heard people,’ Clara said. She checked her watch. ‘You’re back early, it’s only half three.’
‘Yes, well,’ Madeleine said. ‘Thing is, I’ve discovered I’m a truly shocking skier. Literally, the least proficient person ever.’ Flopping onto another sofa, she pulled a fur-covered cushion from behind the small of her back and threw it onto a spare chair. ‘God, that’s good,’ she said, sinking into the sofa’s welcoming folds.
‘You probably need lessons,’ Clara said, folding the corner of a page and closing her paperback. ‘Most people do.’
‘We’ve booked some up, starting in the morning,’ Rose said, hovering near the kettle. ‘Shall I make the tea, then?’
‘What flavour is the cake?’ Madeleine asked.
‘If I say “chocolate”, will you come and help make the tea?’
‘Is it?’
‘Come and find out.’
