Cam shrugs. ‘It’s my home. It’s where I’m happy. I went away for a few years because the tour ops were all steering their clients away from Skitastic and I had to wind it up, but by the time I came back, no one remembered who I was. It was already old news even a few years on. Almost everyone who had been in the resort when we were here had moved on to other places, other lives. No one has been here as long as me now. A lot of people come to the mountains, and once in a while, someone dies. It quickly becomes old news. No one wants to think about it. People come here on holiday or for a season or two, forget about their normal lives, have fun, ski, drink too much, shag a ski instructor maybe. No one wants to think about death. Hardly any of the people here today know about what happened all those years ago, nor would they care, if the body hadn’t resurfaced.’

There’s another pause.

‘Why didn’t you stay here?’ Cam asks.

‘You know why,’ I hiss. ‘I couldn’t bear it after what happened. I only came back this week because – well – because you made me.’

He smirks. ‘Yeah, handy you working in events like that, sending that mailshot out to all the chalet companies – including mine – when you set up your little enterprise. Been useful for us both over the years, hasn’t it? To give you credit where it’s due, you’ve sent some good clients my way.’

‘Not out of choice,’ I whisper. ‘As you know. You blackmailed me. I’d never have contacted Snow Snow if I’d known it was your company.’

Cameron responds with that awful bark of a laugh. ‘Ha! Should have done your research then, shouldn’t you? It’s especially convenient now you’re married to Mister big-shot Hugo,’ he continues. ‘You were always so scared about people finding out about the accident. I’d have been stupid not to use that to my advantage, wouldn’t I? You can see that, surely?’

I shake my head. My face feels hot but I’m determined not to let him see me cry.

‘But I’ve been a good boy this week, haven’t I?’ he continues. ‘I’ve kept to our agreement and haven’t let on about your past. Or even that we know each other – that it’s down to you and me and our friendship that you’re all here, enjoying my lovely chalet.’

‘We are not friends. You threatened me,’ I say in a low voice. ‘You said I had to get Hugo to take your chalets on or you’d make it known what happened that day. You’d make sure I took the blame, given your contacts now that you’re such a big noise out here.’