‘It was great up there. Not a cloud in the sky,’ Johnny murmured, scrolling on his phone.

‘Ugh, don’t,’ she tutted irritably. ‘You have no idea how painful it was being stuck indoors while you were out on the slopes.’

‘We were working too! Werk-werk-werk and no play – Johnny is a dull boy,’ he muttered.

Clover heard his weary tone. He never complained, never threw a tantrum, but the hours he’d been pulling for months now were unsustainable. She bit her lip, staring out at the town through the window. The stars were already out, Christmas lights flickering gently in chalet windows across the street. Life was happening on the other side of the glass. People were settling down to watch a film, or eat dinner, or go dancing. While they busied themselves with poring over the minutiae of someone else’s life, their own lives were being neglected.

‘I don’t suppose anyone fancies a quick drink?’ she asked.

Matty’s head whipped up. ‘Speak,’ she commanded.

‘Well, there’s a band playing tonight at this bar. My name’s been put on the door.’

‘Just yours?’

‘We’d all get in, trust me.’

Matty frowned. ‘Who put your name on the door?’

Clover hesitated. ‘Mikey Schultz.’

‘Mikey?’ Johnny echoed.

‘Yep. I rode a chairlift with him on the way back from buying lunch, and we got chatting.’

‘You got chatting? Or chatted up?’

Clover laughed. ‘Look, it’s no big deal. I didn’t say we’d go.’

‘But you wanna,’ Matty said, peering at her more closely.

‘Well, I could do with a little fun,’ Clover shrugged. ‘Things have been pretty shit recently.’

‘Is this including or excluding the hot sex with the target?’ Matty held her hands up defensively even as she teased.

‘Stop! I am not ready to joke about that. I mean it.’

‘Well, in that case,’ Matty drawled, ‘. . . you’re going to need more than one drink.’

Chapter Seventeen

The queue was leading down the street, girls standing out in the snow and night temperatures in ski jackets over strap tops. ‘Woah,’ Matty murmured. ‘Glad you got your name down. You’re sure they’ll let us all in?’

‘Mm-hmm,’ Clover said uncertainly.

She couldn’t see in. The windows inside were misted, with illuminated Gösser beer signs on the glass, but the energy of the place could be felt even out here. Orange, red, purple lights flashed, music pulsing, the people inside singing along to fragments they knew of the songs.

They walked up to the doorman and Clover gave her name. They waited apprehensively as he checked the list. He had a tattoo and a carefully shaped beard.

‘He looks like Max in Guess Who,’ Matty whispered, making Clover splutter with laughter. They had shared a few vodka shots before coming out, ‘to warm up’. Clover felt in need of courage.

‘How do you even remember those things?’

‘Well, you knew who I meant!’