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I felt my whole face flush at the thought of it.
‘Yeah…’ I said, ‘what are the chances, eh?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here,’ he said, gesturing at the waiter for the bill.
George and Pippa were already on the dancefloor as we stood up. I waved over at them and pointed to the door as Xavier put on his coat.Goodbye George, forever. Duran Duran was playing loudly, so it wasn’t worth shouting goodbye and I thought giving him the Vs was a bit harsh. George pushed his way back over to us, through the dancefloor. Honestly, just take the hint and GO AWAY.
‘Are you guys heading off?’ George asked, as Xavier put his arm around me.
‘Yes, we have a few things we need to do,’ he said, squeezing me protectively.
‘OK, well leave the bill to us,’ he said.
‘Already settled. Drinks are on me,’ Xavier said nonchalantly, ‘and my friend treated us to the raclette.’
‘It was great to see you,’ I said, lying through my teeth.
‘You too,’ he said, with a smile. ‘Maybe we’ll bump into you again?’
‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘but I hope not,’ I muttered as we waved again to Pippa and made our way to the door.
I couldn’t wait to get away. I needed a shower to wash George off. How could I have thought I’d be forever happy as Mrs Ballinger, when he was still so obviously such a little boy?
The sun had already set behind the clouds and the air was cold as we queued for the lift.
‘Thank you for saving me in there,’ I said, feeling completely discombobulated, ‘I hope it doesn’t get you into trouble with your wife.’
‘Not at all, that’s what friends are for. Christina understands that more than most,’ Xavier said with a smile.
Twenty-Four
24th January
‘It was so nice to see him again. No one knows more about French-Swiss fusion than Maxim,’ Xavier said fondly. ‘He was always coming up with brilliant new dishes at Le Cinq. We all hated him for it.’
‘Charming,’ I said.
‘In a loving, fiercely competitive way of course.’
‘His raclette last week was delicious, so I’m looking forward to meeting him.’
The gondola clunked its way up through the pine trees, as birds swooped and dived alongside us. It was 2.30 p.m. and nearing the end of the skiing day, so only a handful of people were in the lift, and it was strangely quiet. The weather was pretty awful, and I would 100 per cent have been in the spa or be eating something cheese-based if I was on holiday. Xavier and I didn’t have any of our snow kit with us and were wearing matching blue jeans with thermal layers for warmth. I felt so much lighter and freer without my wrist-guards and knee support and helmet and goggles. It was a relief not to have to keep tabs on it all.
I wiggled myself about a bit to check the outfit was working – it was paper-thin yet tight and cosy. The thinnest of thin thermals with leggings under my jeans. I felt warm and totally comfy. The lift rocked about as it went up the final hurdle to Le Rouge, rolling us about like meatballs in a tin can. The restaurant was at the very top of the resort, so we’d switched lifts three times to navigate our way this far. The snow was gushing down on all sides as we eventually ground to a halt and got out.
‘Finally,’ I said, jamming my hands in my pockets and nosing my face into my snood, ‘that took forever. I’m assuming Maxim doubles up as Santa Claus and that we are now in Lapland?’
‘He might do if you ask him nicely. The best things in life are worth waiting for,’ Xavier said.
‘I thought the best things in life were free?’ I replied.
‘Not when it comes to food.Alors.We need to stay focused. We have ninety minutes to watch and learn from Maxim and then we’ll get the last lift down,’ Xavier said, as the snow swirled around us. The sky was now a dreary grey haze and even my yellow lenses weren’t helping with visibility.
‘Got it. In, listen, learn, out,’ I said, with a nod.
‘The last lift – it is 4.30 p.m.,oui?’ Xavier called over to the man in the small glass office, operating the lift. He gave a wiggle of his curly eyebrows and nodded. The lift was right next to the restaurant, so we could seamlessly move from warm lift to warm lift station and through the warm walkway into the warm restaurant. Just how I liked it.
‘Bonjour, bonjour,’ a twenty-stone Frenchman thundered his way over to us, embracing Xavier overzealously. ‘You must be Holly?’ he said, shaking my hand enthusiastically, then double kissing the air.
