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‘Er… no, they’re not with me? I’m not much older than them myself,’ I laughed.
‘They’re with me,’ a voice from behind me said. A voice belonging to a man in an ice-blue hoodie. Of course they were. ‘And you’re sitting in my seat,’ he said.
I gave a little cough and felt myself turning red.
‘Am I? Ah. Apologies, I had to jump on the train at the last second… I’ll move.’ I quickly necked my G&T and set down the empty glass as the waitress stood frozen to the spot. She looked at me, looked at him and then looked at the posh boy cracking open the miniature red wine as I shuffled out of the man’s seat and let him sit down. I’d already pocketed his peanuts. I grabbed my suitcase, but the drinks trolley was in the way so I couldn’t move past. The waitress gave me a glare, so I reversed back out of the carriage and sat on my suitcase outside the loo. After she’d served the rest of the table their drinks, she huffed and puffed and eventually doubled back on herself to let me through.
‘You can’t just sit in First Class and order yourself a drink on a standard ticket, you know,’ she said, shaking her head at me.
‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise this was First Class; I thought everyone got a free drink. I’m happy to pay?’ I offered, getting out my purse and hoping it would be less than £2.80 as that was all I had.
She frowned, irritated.
‘I’m not set up to take payments as everything is included in this part of the train. If you can please just take your actual seat, that would be great.’
I staggered down eleven carriages to get to my ‘actual’ seat, accidentally boshing a couple of innocent passengers with my rucksack along the way. The Eurostar was not designed for walking up and down with full-size luggage. Economy was a very different story, with stag and hen dos, older couples off for a week away, groups of friends sharing bottles of Prosecco and fit families en route to the alps for the weekend. Myactualseat was next to a woman in her late fifties in a caramel, cashmere dress with bright-pink lipstick, who eye-rolled when I pointed at the empty window seat next to her.
‘Sorry, can-I-just-get-to-my…’ I said awkwardly, as I stashed my bags and struggled past her to sit down.
And then finally. Time to relax and enjoy the journey. I snuggled into myself and leant my head against the window watching the bleak, grey skies of London seamlessly switch out for the bleak, grey skies of Paris. Then the same bag drag through Paris following the blonde and beautiful to make sure I didn’t miss the connection to Geneva and once at Geneva, I joined ‘The Verbier Express’, to complete the final leg to Le Châble. I took a long hard look around the train at my new tribe. These were now my people. Well, I was technically the staff, and they were technically the guests, but same, same. The ice-blue crew were a couple of tables along, so I gave them a friendly wave, but the dad stared straight through me. Obviously a big peanut fan. I was sitting opposite a lux-tanned couple who were holding hands and chatting animatedly in French. They were wearing matching black onesies, like superheroes ready to fight the evil snow monsters. My skinny jeans and Zara jumper were not going to hit the mark. I’d have to top up with a few key purchases once I got to Verbier. Hopefully, there would be a shopping centre in the village to get some basics without breaking the bank.
The train hurtled towards the slopes and the scenery finally started to shift from dull-grey winter misery to lighter, brighter winter misery. A thousand shades of green as we made our way through Switzerland, each hamlet surrounded by snow-capped mountains, with wooden chalets dotted randomly at first, then more concentrated as we approached each train station. Eventually, the snow crept more heavily into the scenery and the rest of the mountains came into view, white and bright against blue skies and sunshine. How could the sun be so blatant? Shining away here when we hadn’t seen it for months back home.
My phone lit up as we emerged from the thousandth tunnel:
George:Call me ASAP. Margot is on my back for full payment.
Margot:Bon voyage Holly, bisous xx
Mum:Enjoy your adventure my darling! Xxx
No, I will absolutely not be calling you, George. Deal with the fallout yourself, if you’re so evolved and capable.I ordered a strong coffee from the drinks trolley and knocked it back, my brain abuzz with caffeine, then took some photos from the train and posted them on my socials:
#ClimbEveryMountain #OnMyWay
I’d have to speak to George properly at some point about the house and the money and all the adulting-stuff we needed to do if it was really,reallyover. But not yet. Just thinking about it made my heart race. My brain just kept trying to make sense of his reasons. I’d thought we were so happy. I rubbed the dent where my engagement ring had sat since graduation day. Twenty-seven years old and already on the scrapheap. My finger would never be the same. That bloody dent would always remind me of George. Unless I could pay a plastic surgeon to puff it back out.
Le Châble was the end of the line and we were due in at 5.30 a.m. It had been a long journey and there were lots of tired faces, including mine, ready to go to bed. Well,Iwas ready to go to bed – maybe the hardcore ski set would be straight out on the slopes. I was exhausted. What with George and the wedding and leaving so abruptly for this job, my whole body was ready to collapse. I could have slept for a week. There was a frisson of excitement as the conductor announced we would soon be approaching our final destination and all the exercise-y types leapt up and started zipping and unzipping. Luggage, jackets, sleeping bags – it was an absolute zipfest. Ski mums and dads took sleeping children out of snuggly onesies and put them into mini ski suits, strapping them into buggies and preparing to leave the train.
First light was appearing over the mountain as the train pulled into the station and it suddenly hit me that I was in the middle of God-knows-where, with no skiing ability whatsoever. What was I thinking? I’d been having a lovely time watching the scenery change on a nice, warm train, but the thought of leaving my cosy seat to meet strangers in the cold, and then at some point having to work on top, was almost too much. The train quickly emptied as clearly everyone knew what they were doing apart from me. I lugged my enormous suitcase out of the luggage rack and decided to take it step by step. Step one – get off the train. I wasn’t sure what to expect after that, other than knowing that Genevieve had arranged for Liv to collect me from the station and drive me to the chalet. Liv was the housekeeper at Chalet Blanchet and would also be my roommate. Fingers crossed she was cool and fun. And that we’d get on.
As I staggered off the train, the cold hit me in the face. It was absolutely FREEZING. Oh God, how could my body go from being so warm and cosy and sleepy one minute to so bloody cold the next? This was already my idea of hell. I took my denim jacket off and put a second long-sleeved T-shirt on as another layer. Since taking the job I’d been following all the top #instaski influencers to get some tips and according to @snoweird it was all about the layers. I had to think of myself as a beautifully complicated trifle. Lots of materials and lots of layers, the thinner and more expensive, the better. My denim jacket wasn’t cutting it and my skinny jeans were doing nothing to protect my milk-bottle legs from the wind.
‘Hey, are you Holly?’ A girl with a strong Australian accent, blue-black plaits and violet eyes walked towards me smiling as I was mid clothes-innovation, putting a woolly sock on each hand.
‘Yes, hi! How did you guess?’ I gave her a wave with my sock hands, ‘I’m not sure I’m totally prepared for this weather, to be honest.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got some stuff you can borrow; I’ve been out here for a while. I’m Liv,’ she said giving me a big hug and taking my case. I felt immediately relieved to see a friendly face.
‘That’s so kind, thank you. I’m not really a skier,’ I said, following her down the platform.
‘No worries, are you boarding?’ Liv asked.
‘No, I’m staying at the chalet with you,’ I replied.
‘I mean snowboarding?’ Liv said.
‘Oh. No. Well not yet anyway,’ I said with a little laugh. ‘I’ve never been to a ski resort before. I don’t really like the cold. Will I hate it?’
