Page 42 of Snowed In with You

‘Fucking hell, at some point they’ll walk down the mountain by themselves.’

Nate stretched his arms above his head and yawned. ‘I might ask Gunther if I can borrow some clothes today, so I can wash mine. In case we’re a Dutch media sensation when we get rescued.’

‘Good idea,’ said Lucy. ‘Nobody needs to be a Dutch media sensation in dirty pants. What did it feel like?’

Nate looked confused, and dropped his arms back to his sides. ‘What did what feel like?’

‘Once you were over the terror, and just singing?’

‘Oh, are we still talking about that?’

‘Yes,’ said Lucy, rolling her eyes.

‘OK. Um. Amazing, I guess.’ Nate was quiet for a moment, his eyes darting around like he was trying to find the words. ‘I’ve always dreamed about it. Being a singer, performing in front of an audience, getting a record deal. Like, there are moments in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep when I’ve actually thought it might be possible, promised myself that I’ll put some stuff on social. But then the cold light of day kicks in.’

‘And then it doesn’t seem possible?’

Nate gave a hollow laugh. ‘Day to day I’m fine, but under pressure the anxiety can be pretty crippling. Booze helps, clearly. Listening to Chantal’s horrible singing was the final push I needed.’

Lucy laughed. ‘Just out of interest, what is it you’re scared of?’

‘That’s not how anxiety works,’ said Nate, shaking his head. ‘It’s not rational, it doesn’t behave in a logical, consistent way. Last night my brain gave me a break, but another day it might bring me to my knees.’

‘But if you were a recording artist you’d have people looking after you,’ said Lucy. ‘Lots of singers have mental health issues.’

‘Maybe,’ said Nate. ‘But to get that far, I have to put myself out there. Right now I can’t imagine ever being able to do that.’

‘Well, maybe an audience of eight in the Guntherhütte is the first step,’ said Lucy. ‘I’m really proud of you, you know.’

Nate looked up at her, his eyes narrowed like he was wondering if she was taking the piss.

‘No, really,’ she continued. ‘I know how hard that must have been for you. I saw the struggles Leo went through to do anything in front of people. Even standing up in class to answer a question. It used to turn him inside out.’

‘Yeah,’ said Nate, looking back at his feet. ‘I know that feeling.’

‘What was Chantal singing?’ asked Lucy, keen to keep Nate talking.

‘ “Ne Partez Pas Sans Moi” – it’s a Celine Dion song from the eighties. Monica said it won Eurovision, but I don’t know if that’s true. Apparently it was Gunther and Monica’s wedding song, so they were happy.’

‘Ah, that’s sweet.’

‘Although the song actually translates as “Don’t Leave Without Me”, which feels like an odd choice for a wedding.’

Lucy snorted with laughter. ‘Maybe Chantal was aiming it at you. That woman is crushing hard.’

‘What do you mean?’ said Nate, frowning at her.

‘Chantal. Don’t bother with a candle in this power cut, because Chantal is carrying a HUGE torch.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Nate in disbelief.

‘It’s not. Why do you think she told you about my personal sexual arrangements? It was a tactical move to ensure you don’t leave Zermatt without her. See? It all makes sense now.’

‘No, it doesn’t,’ laughed Nate, his eyes wide. ‘You’re still drunk.’

‘She wants you to take her away from all this,’ continued Lucy, gasping dramatically. ‘The song was a secret cry for help, because Gunther and Monica are keeping her hostage to the pizza oven.’

‘Well, that’s definitely not going to happen,’ said Nate. ‘Not my type at all.’