As she got out of the car Lily gazed at wooden poles with cables between. ‘What’s all this?’

‘The drag lift. Skiing season is just beginning.’ Max zipped his coat then pointed at a big geometric dome. ‘That’s the ski bar, where you can get refreshment without taking off your ski boots. If this weather keeps up the slopes will open at the weekend. Oh look, the minibus is here already.’

They found the others gathered around a long table inside, frowning over menus written in Swiss-Deutsche. Christmas decorations in turquoise and white glittered from every wall and Christmas trees were positively weighed down by baubles and lace. Isaac looked up and smiled as she and Max approached. ‘How’d it go?’

Lily pulled out her phone and her pictures were passed around amidst a hail of exclamations.

‘It’s going to be great to be singing there tomorrow,’ she bubbled. ‘We’re on late morning and mid-afternoon, and someone’s going to take us for lunch in between.’

With Max’s assistance they ordered bowls of thick broth with crusty bread and a round of drinks. Lily looked around. ‘So what did you guys do this morning?’

Warwick gave a ‘what else?’ shrug. ‘Snowball fight.’ Emily, Charlotte, Eddie and Alfie all beamed and nodded.

‘I got so soaked I had to change my jeans,’ Emily chimed in.

‘We walked in the snow, no changes of jeans required,’ Neil said, with a gesture in the direction of Franciszka and Carola.

Isaac grinned. ‘Max’s neighbour talked to me about outdoor pursuits. I think I need to learn to climb in snow.’

Max smiled as the waitress approached with the first steaming bowls of broth. ‘I thought we’d go for a hike up the nature trail after lunch. It’ll be beautiful.’

So after the delicious concoction of barley, vegetables and bacon they bundled up in coats, hats and gloves and released Doggo from his cave in the back of the minibus. He bounced out stiff-legged, tail thrashing with the joy of being with his pack again. ‘Hnuh, hnuh, WOAH!’ he barked, nudging Isaac’s legs as if to say, ‘Let’s GO!’

‘Oh,’ Lily said, looking down at her injured hand in dismay. ‘My left glove won’t fit. I didn’t think of that.’

Isaac passed Doggo’s lead to Alfie. ‘I’ve got a spare pair of ski mittens.’ He pulled his backpack from the minibus and produced what looked like mini boxing gloves. He examined Lily’s hand. ‘Going impressively purple.’

‘Not as stiff and swollen now though.’ She eased her sore fingers in through the opening of the mitten he held out, elastic stretched, and flexed experimentally. ‘Thanks, that’s brilliant. I won’t get frostbite now.’