Page 41 of The Only Way Is Up

Wrap up warm. Sorry I’m not there to zip your coat up.

Daisy grinned and quickly put her phone away, just as Melanie jogged back down the stairs.

‘What are you smiling at?’ asked Melanie, pulling on her snow boots.

‘Nothing,’ replied Daisy quickly. ‘Here, you two, grab a sledge.’

‘What do we need those for?’ asked Will, taking the rope of one sledge and passing the other to Ruby.

Ruby smiled and started to drag her sledge down the path towards the road. ‘They’re how we get home.’

The village was quiet and beautiful as they walked up the hill to Eva’s Pizzeria, past the cable car station and rows of wooden chalets twinkling with Christmas lights. The snow crunched and creaked under their boots as they puffed vapour clouds with every step; but even though the air was freezing, it wasn’t long before Daisy felt hot in her ski suit.

She glanced at Melanie, who was taking deep breaths as she tried to focus through the wine. Daisy stayed quiet, instead letting her mind wander to Tom. In the context of her plan to keep him safe from press scrutiny, kissing him last night had not been a good idea. But the memory of it induced a feeling of delicious warmth that she could feel in her toes. For Christian, kissing was always a precursor to sex; he had no concept of snogging for the sheer thrill of it. But Tom had felt entirely different – tender and romantic, a little hesitant. He was an entirely different type of man altogether, and Daisy was struggling to put her finger on why she found him so attractive. It was something she’d love to talk to Melanie about, but also the one thing she absolutely couldn’t mention.

‘Just out of interest,’ asked Melanie breathlessly, ‘how long is this hill?’

Daisy laughed. ‘It’s about another half a mile, sorry. It takes half an hour to walk there and about two minutes to get back.’

‘Maybe it would be easier if I wasn’t so pissed,’ said Melanie, using Daisy’s footprints as a guide. Ruby and Will were dragging the sledges fifty metres ahead, occasionally stopping to push each other into a snowbank or throw a snowball. Their laughter echoed in the frigid air and made Daisy smile. It was lovely to see them both so relaxed and happy, away from the pressures of school and exams. Regardless of what happened in future, Daisy felt sure that neither of them would ever forget this trip.

The path widened as they neared the top of the hill, so Daisy fell back alongside Melanie and laughed at their huffing and puffing.

‘God, I’m so unfit,’ said Daisy. ‘My personal trainer is going to be furious.’

‘What’s that like?’ asked Melanie. ‘Having a personal trainer?’

‘Oh,’ said Daisy, kicking herself for chatting to Melanie like she was one of her London friends. She must sound so vacuous. ‘It’s . . . helpful. I don’t have to motivate myself, Scott does it for me. I just do whatever he says until he tells me to stop.’

Melanie gave Daisy a sideways look. ‘That sounds awful.’

‘Yeah, it’s grim,’ laughed Daisy. ‘But the alternative is having gossip magazines speculate on why my bum has got bigger.’

‘OK, that sounds more awful,’ said Melanie, her brow furrowing. ‘Do they really do that?’

‘Sure,’ said Daisy. ‘ “Daisy flaunts her new curves on a family beach holiday.” Haven’t you ever read that in a magazine?’

Melanie blushed. ‘Oh. Well, yes.’

‘It’s code for “Daisy’s put on a few pounds.” It’s fine,’ said Daisy, sensing Melanie’s discomfort. ‘You get used to it. And then you get a personal trainer.’

They trudged in companionable silence for a few minutes as the hill flattened out and the lights of Eva’s appeared in the distance. Daisy’s thighs were burning from the climb, and she dreaded to think how they were going to feel tomorrow after a day’s skiing.

‘It feels strange to be here with you.’ Melanie’s voice was quiet and a little shy, but she was emboldened by all the alcohol. ‘I’ve been watching you on TV for so many years.’

Daisy looked at her. ‘Really? I didn’t realise you were a fan of Spotlight. You never said.’

Melanie shrugged. ‘Not just Spotlight. I used to watch you on Pop Party! in the nineties, and then on the house makeover show, what was it called?’

Daisy laughed, ‘First Time Fixer-Uppers.’

‘That’s the one,’ Melanie nodded. ‘I was living in London then, in my boyfriend’s flat. He worked in the City and had a little place in Farringdon. We loved that show, copied loads of your ideas.’

Daisy remembered how they’d never finished their conversation earlier. ‘What happened to him? The boyfriend.’

Melanie let out a slow breath. ‘I went to work for Gerald after he won his seat in the 2001 election. I was only twenty-two and bit naive, I suppose. Didn’t see him coming.’

‘Until he was coming,’ said Daisy, then let out a horrified snort of laughter. ‘Oops, did I say that out loud?’