Page 37 of The Only Way Is Up

‘Yes,’ Daisy nodded. ‘He took me under his wing when I started out in TV as a teenager; I was about the same age as Ruby. He’s the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had and he’s Ruby’s godfather. We’ve had this week booked since she was a toddler.’ She grabbed Melanie’s arm, steering her back towards the stars. ‘Come on, let’s go and have some tea. And I’ll find us all some warm stuff to wear, then we can go outside.’

Will carried all the bags to their bedrooms while Melanie lit the fire and made tea for everyone, using the box of Yorkshire teabags Daisy had brought with her. Austria was good at many things, but a decent cup of tea wasn’t one of them. Ruby and Daisy headed back upstairs to raid the racks of ski clothes, which were stored in a wardrobe in the master bedroom. There were two decades’ worth of ski jackets, trousers, thermal layers and ski accessories. A sign stuck to the inside of the door read:

Three rules for the ski gear store:

1) Wash, dry and put away whatever you use before you go home OR leave it in a pile for the housekeeper and she’ll wash it for you. Please leave cash – two Euros per item.

2) Add your outgrown/unwanted stuff to the collection – all decent quality ski wear welcome.

3) Feel free to recycle anything that is damaged or worn beyond repair, or so embarrassingly unfashionable that the locals will openly laugh in your face.

They grabbed armfuls of hangers and carried them downstairs, draping everything over the back of the sofa. It all smelled a bit fusty, but nobody would notice once they were outside in the fresh air.

‘What size are you, Melanie?’ Daisy was rooting through a pile of women’s ski jackets and trousers.

‘I’m not sure,’ Melanie frowned. ‘An eight, I suppose, maybe a ten? Long in the leg, though.’

This quietly confirmed Daisy’s suspicion that Melanie had a killer body under all that shapeless frumpwear. She pulled out some turquoise and white trousers with a fitted matching jacket. ‘Here, try these.’

Will chose some black trousers and a red jacket, until Ruby told him that the instructors wore red jackets and he swapped it for a burnt orange one instead. Ruby picked out the same hot pink outfit she’d worn last year, and Daisy went for black with a red trim.

‘What do you think?’ asked Melanie, padding down the wooden stairs in a ski suit that hugged her body and showed off a figure that hadn’t been seen in public since Tony Blair was Prime Minister.

‘Wow, Mum.’ Will walked forward slowly, his eyes wide at the sight of a version of his mother he’d never seen before. ‘You look great.’ Melanie beamed, as Daisy nodded in agreement.

‘That really suits you. Have a rummage in the big cupboard in the boot room, you’ll find loads of snow boots and socks and hats. Gloves and goggles too. Ruby, go and help.’

By five, everyone was kitted out for the week and the sun had started to sink behind the mountains. Ruby and Will decided to go and sort out their snowboarding gear and sign themselves up for classes, offering to book Melanie into the beginners’ ski class while they were there. Melanie looked at Daisy, her face anxious. ‘Are you sure it’s OK? This hasn’t cost you a lot of money?’

‘It really hasn’t,’ lied Daisy. ‘Our friends had already booked classes, you’re just using up the space they had already paid for.’ Daisy glanced at Ruby, who surreptitiously raised her eyebrows. No doubt she was wondering who the imaginary friends were, but she didn’t say anything.

‘OK then,’ Melanie smiled, looking visibly relieved. ‘Well, yes please to beginners’ lessons. It seems a shame to come all this way and not learn to ski.’ She looked relaxed and startlingly pretty, like swapping the rectory for the mountains and her usual clothes for ones that fit had ironed out the tension in her face.

Ruby slid Daisy’s debit card out of her purse with practised ease. ‘We’ll get lift passes for everyone too. See you later.’ She grabbed Will’s hand, dragging him out of the door.

‘Be back by seven for dinner,’ called Daisy. She and Melanie smiled fondly at their happy children, then looked at each other and grinned.

‘Glass of wine before we unpack?’ said Daisy, and Melanie nodded.

‘So you turned forty last month?’ Daisy tossed the empty bottle of Grüner Veltliner into the recycling, unscrewing the cap on another.

‘Mmm,’ said Melanie, draining her glass and holding it out for a refill. ‘I confess to having sneaked a look online, so I know yours is next month.’

‘So we’d have been in the same school year.’

‘I guess we would. You went to stage school though, right?’

Daisy nodded, flumping down in the corner of the sofa and dropping the bottle into the ice bucket. ‘Yes, in London. What about you?’

‘A Catholic girls’ school in Suffolk,’ said Melanie. ‘It’s where I grew up. I was a last-chance baby, the final one of four. I’ve got three brothers but I never see them. They’re all a lot older than me.’

‘And your parents?’

‘Both gone. Dad in 2010 after a stroke, Mum two years later, ovarian cancer.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Daisy. Even though Stella often drove her to despair, she was glad she and Ruby had her.

‘Thanks. They were both quick, so I guess that’s a blessing.’ She smiled a tad bitterly, raised her glass, took a swig. ‘There was a bit of money, but they left it all to my brothers.’