She wore a bright-blue thermal top under a puffy North Face vest, some type of rustling waterproof pants, and hiking boots that looked stiff as stale bread. All pristine and straight off the rack. She looked like she’d walked into an adventure store, pointed at a mannequin and said, ‘That one.’ Her husband, Andrew Millot (but we all call him Andy), who had followed her out but kept his distance, was woefully underdressed in jeans and a leather jacket, looking as if he’d spent his time in the same adventure store checking his watch. Without grabbing my bags or my coat, deciding that it was better to be lashed by cold air than Katherine’s tongue, I hurried to intercept her.

‘We’ve eaten,’ was all she said, which I think was supposed to be both criticism and punishment.

‘Katherine, I’m sorry. I had trouble on the mountain past Jindabyne. Fresh snow.’ I pointed back at the chains on my tyres. ‘Luckily someone helped me put these on.’

‘You didn’t check the forecast before you left?’ She sounded incredulous that anyone would commit such treason to punctuality as to not account for the weather.

I admitted that I hadn’t.

‘You should have factored that in.’

I admitted that I should have.

She ground her jaw. I knew Katherine well enough to know that she just wanted to have her say, so I stayed silent. ‘All right then,’ she said eventually, then leaned in and planted an icy kiss on my cheek. I have never known how to reciprocate a cheek-to-cheek greeting, but I decided to take her advice and factor in the weather – her stormy demeanour – and settled on a mwah sound in the air beside her face. She pressed a set of keys into my hand and said, ‘Our room wasn’t ready yesterday so you’re in Four now. Everyone’s in the dining room. Good to see you.’

She took off back towards the guesthouse before I could make small talk, but Andy waited and walked with me, offering me a casual shoulder lean of hello rather than taking his hands from his pockets to shake my hand. The cold was bracing, but I was committed to socialising now so my jacket had to languish in the car. The wind was cruel; it found every crevasse in my clothes, invaded and patted me down like I owed it money.