‘Oh well,’ she said, a grin forming on her face. ‘If she does eat him for breakfast, I bet he’ll enjoy it.’
Rose rolled her eyes, but she did huff a laugh. ‘OK. I suppose. They’re both adults, they can decide what they want as their happy-ever-after.’
Yes, they could, Madeleine thought. And if it took a little shove in the right direction to spin them together? Well, there was nothing wrong with that. Madeleine just wished she had someone watching out for her in the same way.
Tom served the canapés, thin rings of cucumber set on tiny pancakes with a little blob of caviar where the cucumber seeds should have been, and by the time Madeleine had tried one and decided one was enough– the caviar was a bit too salty and slimy for her taste– she’d lost track of how many times she’d looked at her watch.
Perhaps Gull wouldn’t come at all. It was entirely possible that the brother might not have passed on the message. He might have forgotten. Or, he might have thought better of it and said nothing. And even if he had passed on the message, there was nothing to suggest that Gull would feel compelled to visit Snow Pine Lodge again. Except that Madeleine’s gut kept pushing all those thoughts aside. He would come. She had faith in him.
Pushing the sleeve of her jumper up, she checked the time again. Rose caught her eye and shook her head. Her expression said it all.Leave it alone. Keep your nose out.Stop meddling.
A firm knock on the lodge door had Rose glancing at her again. Madeleine grinned. Too late to leave it alone. Or to keep her nose out. Or to stop meddling. ‘I’ll get it,’ she said, and headed downstairs before anyone could stop her.
Two sets of footsteps ascended the stairs a few minutes later. Tania watched the crown of Madeleine’s head appear, the broad grin on her face speaking volumes as she came into the room.
‘You’ll never guess who was at the door,’ she said, widening her eyes purposefully in Tania’s direction.
And then the second person reached the top of the stairs. It was Gull. One hand on the smooth wood of the curving banister, his eyebrows furrowed together in an expression that Tania didn’t want to admit she’d missed.
‘Hi,’ he said, glancing around. ‘I’m sorry to intrude.’
‘I said he should come straight on up.’ Madeleine grinned at her with even more fervour.
Tania knew she should greet him, invite him into the room, rather than leaving him standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs. He was clearly waiting for some indication from her, but she couldn’t make her face change its expression. She was frozen in position, staring at him. Once she forced her legs into action, she headed for him, asking Tom if he could hold dinner for a little while as she swept past the kitchen area.
‘Come with me,’ she said, taking the stairs down two at a time. She didn’t look back, heard him descending the first staircase and then the second one behind her. Down in the boot room, she slotted her feet into her snow boots and laced them up.
He pulled his boots back on and mirrored her as she zipped herself into her jacket. His expression had morphed into confusion, as she held the door open and gestured him outside.
‘Where are we going?’ he said.
‘I can’t do this with an audience,’ she said. ‘Let’s walk.’ Rather too late, she paused, glancing at his leg. ‘If your knee is up to it?’
He nodded, his expression losing some of its stiffness. ‘It’s fine. All strapped up and ready to go.’
The door closed with a decisive click behind her. ‘I’m glad. I didn’t want to be responsible for ruining the rest of your week.’
He laughed. Did that mean he thought she’d already ruined the rest of his week? She had messed him around, there was no getting away from that. But she hadn’t asked for his attention, hadn’t wanted him to chase her halfway down a mountain or make inappropriate suggestions about hot tubs. He’d started it.
Choosing to ignore the laugh, she headed across the driveway, the tarmac scraped clean of snow, with fresh pockets of ice glistening like stars in the pale moonlight. He caught her up and together they climbed over the remnants of the shovelled snow and took the track that wound its way around the lodge, their footsteps silent on the powder snow, which lay undisturbed between the trees surrounding the building. Enough moonlight penetrated the firs to light their way.
‘Thank you for the bottle,’ she said. ‘Why didn’t you ask to see me?’
He shrugged. ‘Why didn’t you meet me at the pizza place?’
Fair enough, she thought. She kept moving, curving her way up through the trees. ‘Be careful,’ she said. ‘Don’t slip.’
‘Where are we going?’ He puffed a little as he followed.
‘You’ll see soon enough.’ They didn’t speak again. Tania headed over the wooden bridge– little wider than a couple of planks of wood– spanning an alpine stream, narrow but fast-flowing and set deceptively deeply into the mountain bedrock, then followed a trail up through the trees. Eventually, she reached the edge of the piste that ran down the left-hand side of the property. Set between the edge of the ski run and the trees was the first of a series of cowsheds. They stood abandoned through the winter but were needed during the summer months when these highest slopes were grazed by tough little cattle, animals whose milk was used to create some of the cheeses they’d been eating, courtesy of Tom.
The design of the buildings meant these, too, nestled against the mountain, with the roofs on the exposed edges almost reaching the ground. As a child, Tania had spent plenty of time up here. Once the ski lifts had closed for the afternoon, she would head up here, away from the toxic atmosphere of the lodge. She’d spent countless hours hugging her knees to her chest as she balanced on the slope of the roof, shivering with cold as she watched the moon rise and mingle with the stars to frame the view over the other peaks of the range of mountains.
She brushed away the lip of snow and leaned against the building, waiting for Gull to settle against the roof tiles beside her.
‘Great view,’ he said.
‘Yes. I love it up here.’
