‘Oh god,’ she wailed, laughing breathlessly. She was still stuck on her stomach with her legs bent, her feet in the air, in parallel. Carefully, without pushing with her arms so as not to ‘drill’ the snow again, she rolled onto her side, trying to keep her skis from crossing – but she must have over-rotated because the outer leg, weighed down by the ski, continued going over until she was on her back, her feet – and skis – angled outwards. ‘Argh no!’ she wailed, sliding into hysterics again. This was even worse!

‘Oh! Bloody brilliant,’ she cried, looking up and seeing that a chairlift crossed immediately above where she was lying. If this had been an ordinary day’s skiing in high season, several hundred people would have witnessed her escapade by now. She gave a prayer of thanks that the resort was still mainly closed and the chairs passing overhead were empty and swinging. This wasn’t her most graceful moment. ‘I’m still stuck!’ she yelled to the others.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll save you, Clo!’ Matty called, setting off dynamically and matching Clover’s tracks. But she too was in carving skis . . .

‘Oh-my-god!’ she wailed as the powder covered over the tops of her skis, slowing her down and bringing her too to a comical, flailing stop. She lifted her snowy face and blew out a mouthful of powder.

Clover collapsed into hysterics all over again. Had she looked like that?

Johnny, filming it all on his helmet, was in no rush to come over and help them. His board – wider and therefore with better spread over the snow – would handle these conditions with ease, but this was comedy gold.

Matty grunted with effort, swearing furiously, as she tried to lift her ski tips free, but every time she tried to plant her hands in the snow to sit up, her hands disappeared into the powder, up to her armpits too. Watching it at close quarters was the funniest thing Clover thought she had ever seen and when finally Matty managed it, lying spreadeagled in the snow like her, they lay there together laughing like they hadn’t laughed in years. They felt childlike, silly and free. So much for being an adult.

‘Johnny, help us!’ Matty yelled. ‘We can’t . . . we can’t get up!’

‘I’m just off for a beer!’ they heard him yell back. ‘Won’t be long!’

‘Bastard!’ she giggled.

The two women lay back in the snow, laughing so hard tears were streaming down their cheeks and seeping into the foam seal of their goggles. Clover looked up at the sky, feeling weak and helpless as she listened to Johnny making his way over to them, approaching in easy looping turns. She watched the empty chairs pass over her as if in a delirium. It was so strange to be skiing with the mountain almost to themselves.

Almost.