‘We have twenty-six cantons and each one has its own government, laws, and constitutions. They also have their own distinct features, the food they grow, for example. Basel is famous for its cherries, hence Amelie’s Basler Kirschbrotte.’ Mina nodded making a mental note to ask her godmother about the recipe, she wanted to know how she’d achieved that unique texture. ‘The population of each varies enormously from somewhere like Zurich, that has over a million people, to some of the small mountainous cantons, which might only have 16,000 people.’
‘Give it a rest, Bernhardt. What are you trying to do, bore the poor girl into submission?’ Luke sat down on the other side of Mina, bringing with him a bottle of wine. ‘Would you like a glass? At least you can enjoy yourself as your eyes glaze over.’ At her slight nod, he poured a generous glass.
Bernhardt laughed. ‘I’m proud of my country. Sorry, I didn’t mean to give a lecture.’
‘Actually, it was really interesting. I didn’t know any of that.’ See: that’s what happened when you went somewhere on a whim instead of thinking things through, and exactly why she needed to sort herself out. She smiled at Bernhardt. ‘Thank you,’ she said, before giving Luke a reproving glance – not that it abashed him in the slightest.
‘It’s alright, I forget Luke is a complete philistine. All he wants to do is hurl himself off mountains. Some of us have a better-developed sense of self-preservation.’
Mina winced a little at his stuffy tone, but Luke simply shrugged. ‘Life is for living. You need to wring every last bit of pleasure out of it.’
And once upon a time she’d have agreed with him, but Simon’s words of reproach were still ringing in her ears. You can’t base a marriage on fun.
‘But we also have responsibilities,’ said Bernhardt. ‘There is a time for fun and a time for being serious. You have to grow up sometime.’
Luke stared at him steadily, not responding, which surprised Mina. She’d have expected him to make some glib, flippant comment, but his eyes were filled with some quiet sadness.
She grabbed the printed sheet with a brief menu in front of her. ‘I’m guessing if Amelie’s cake is that good we’re in for a treat.Zürcher geschnetzeltes,rosti, andspargel,’ she read out loud. ‘I wonder what that is.’ While she was here, she was going to learn as much as she could about Swiss cooking. Amelie had told her in one of her many emails that there was more to it than cheese and chocolate.
‘It’s a very popular dish here; veal cooked in cream and white wine with rosti potato and asparagus,’ translated Bernhardt. ‘Apparently it’s a favourite with Tina Turner and your football manager Roy Hodgson.’
‘Sounds delicious,’ said Mina, who had no idea who Roy Hodgson was. She was more interested in wondering how it was cooked, and smiling to herself. It was useful having an ‘in’ with the chef.
Talk turned to everyone’s plans for the weekend.
‘Kristian and I are going down to Fiesch by train to take the ski lifts up to the slopes for a day’s downhill skiing. What are you doing, Mina?’
‘I’ve just got here, I’m not really sure what’s on offer.’ She didn’t want to admit she had no plans at all, it made her sound a bit flaky. Coming here on a complete whim was all very well but she had two weeks to fill, and she hadn’t thought things through that well. She didn’t have any plans because she hadn’t done any research.
‘I can take you out one day,’ offered Luke. ‘Teach you to cross-country ski. How about this Sunday? You’ll probably want to orientate yourself tomorrow.’
‘That’s for wimps and old people,’ sneered Bernhard with a good-natured roll of his eyes. ‘You could come with us for real skiing. What level are you?’
Mina wasn’t about to admit that the sum total of her skiing experience was a dozen sessions at the Chill Factore in Trafford Quays. These guys were probably doing black runs before she’d even started nursery school.
‘I’d love to. I’m probably… intermediate,’ she said, crossing her fingers underneath her thighs. She wasn’t about to pass up real skiing or the chance to get out in proper snow. Even if she couldn’t keep up with them she was confident she could get down in one piece. A dozen ski lessons taught you quite a lot.
‘Excellent,’ said Bernhardt. ‘It’s very good skiing at Fiesch and there’s been plenty of fresh snow this week.’
Kristian nodded enthusiastically, clearly including himself as one of the party. ‘We leave early. Try to beat the crowds to the slopes. We like to go very early and ski for as long as possible. You coming, Luke?’
‘No, too tame for me. I’m snowboarding tomorrow but I won’t be leaving early. I want to enjoy the day at my own pace.’
Bernhardt shook his head. ‘Snowboarding is for teenagers.’
‘I can’t win,’ teased Luke, tossing his head of bouncing curls with a laugh. ‘Old fogey and a wimp because I cross-country ski, and teenager because I snowboard. I just like being outside and making the most of everything there is to do. Variety is the spice of life and all that.’
‘I’d rather master a skill, than be a jobber.’
‘It’s jack of all trades, master of none,’ said Luke good-naturedly, not the least bit put out by Bernhardt’s slight stuffy criticism.
‘We’re leaving at seven-thirty,’ said Bernhardt.
Luke nudged Mina. ‘And in Switzerland, seven-thirty means seven-thirty. The Swiss are possibly the promptest nation in the world.’
‘It’s efficient,’ said Bernhardt with a reproving look at Luke before he turned to Mina with a gentler expression. ‘If you come all this way, you need to maximise every minute.’ Mina could imagine he was ruthlessly efficient in his time management. He seemed to be very precise about things.
‘I can do seven-thirty,’ she replied, jumping in with both feet as usual, ignoring the tiny voice trying to suggest that she might remind them she was only an intermediate skier. ‘I can’t wait to get out there. It’s going to be great.’
