Fifteen
‘Everyone onto the minibus, please,’ Henrik shouted. ‘And put your seatbelts on. One, two, plus three of you, is five. Six, seven…’
I didn’t like to interrupt while he was counting. Everyone was going skiing except Ethel – which was fair enough with her leg – and when he got to eleven, he jumped behind the wheel and gave us a thumbs up. Like a dad taking us all on a road trip.
‘Morning!’ I was sat next to the Japanese couple. ‘Sara,’ I said, pointing to myself.
‘Good morning. My name is Kimi,’ the lady replied. ‘And this is my husband, Yuto.’
‘Nice to meet you.’ They had a machine that translated my words into Japanese, and Yuto grinned and waved. What witchcraft was this that they were operating tech on the move?
‘Is that 5G?’ I asked.
Kimi shook her head. ‘No internet needed. It downloads the languages then translates sounds offline. It is very clever.’
‘Wow!’ I said as they watched it, and they both nodded. ‘Do you ski in Japan?’
Yuto spoke slowly. ‘Yes. Plenty skiing on Mount Fuji.’
They were on a round-the-world trip, celebrating their retirement. Although they didn’t seem old enough – they were in such great shape. I’d overheard Jonas saying how excellent they’d been in the rock-climbing session. Bending themselves around the tricky bits to find the best grip.
‘Henrik, will we be able to see the glacier from the mountain?’ I called.
‘Yep, you’ll see everything. There’s a three-sixty view from the top all the way out toFolgefonna. Hope you’ve all brought your cameras.’
Camera and phone in one. There was bound to be signal up there, as we’d be closer to the satellites. That was how it worked, right? I might even be able to make a call.
The minibus lumped along the road, weaving and sliding to avoid the ice. Henrik was like a go-slow racing driver, doing his best to keep it smooth as he drove towards the mountain. I pulled out my phone and by some miracle I had two bars! Actual signal connecting me to the real world. I scanned through my apps and could see Mark had sent me another message. He was such a contradiction. He either didn’t want to talk to me at all, or he was on my case every other day. I toyed with leaving him unread for about thirty seconds, but I couldn’t help myself.
He’d screen-grabbed the Firefly homepage where Tore, Jonas and Henrik stood side by side, arms-folded in front of the farmhouse.
Mark: Is this where you’re staying?
Me: You know it is – I sent you a pin. Checking up on me?
Mark: Any good?
Me: Gorgeous. On my way to ski the glacier. Worth checking out for sure.
Mark: You always choose the best places to go on holiday.
Me: Yep, I’d highly recommend, but it’s fully booked till Jan – I got lucky with a cancellation.
He didn’t need to know the whole truth. An eco-resort was Mark’s idea of hell. And that would be without the vegan, no-alcohol situation. Mark liked all round luxury when he went away – ideally with a butler on call.
After a bumpy half hour, Henrik pulled over and the minibus lurched to a stop.
‘OK, guys, this is it. The ski hut is over there to the right. Those who have been before, get your gear on while I park. Those of you who haven’t, ask those who have. I’ll be back in ten.’
We staggered off the bus, slow and dozy, like a coach trip tipping pensioners out onto Blackpool promenade. Phil Collins had lulled us into semi-sleep, and it was a shock to be back out in the cold. The ski hut was hot and a musty smell lingered in the air. It was a wooden shed with a closed hatch at the front and just enough room for us all to cram in. The kit was a jumble of skiwear from the nineties with sweaty-smelling boots. I looked around, panicked, to see if everyone else was thinking the same as me, but it seemed they were not.
Kimi and Yuto had already stepped into matching onesies, red with white stripes. Which was kind of cute as an old married couple. Until I realised that all the ski outfits were the same.
No. Absolutelynot. I would not be seen dead in one of those. There must be something else to wear. Celeste was next to me, wrestling hers on.
‘Psst. Girl to girl. Are there any other options?’ I didn’t want to be difficult, but I couldn’t wear a giant Babygro. It would ruin the experience. Thank God Ethel wasn’t here to witness me flapping about.
Celeste shook her head. ‘’Fraid not, sister. It’s these or nothing. They’re not sexy, but neither is frostbite.’
