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Back The Chalet Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for The Chalet
  3. Dedication
  4. PART ONE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. PART TWO
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. PART THREE
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. Epilogue
  71. Acknowledgements
  72. Keep Reading …
  73. Prologue
  74. About the Author
  75. About the Publisher

‘No. No, that’s a nice idea – thank you,’ I reply, because it is. And what else am I going to do with his body? At least this way I will be seen to have made an effort, rather than having Will cremated somewhere anonymous with no one there at all while it happens. ‘Perhaps I could arrange that before I go back. I’m not sure of the formalities, how long it would all take. Obviously, I would find myself somewhere else to stay,’ I add hastily, ‘I wouldn’t want to impose on your and Cameron’s hospitality any longer.’

She smiles. ‘We are very pleased to have you here. If you do decide to stay on, I can speak to Cameron and see if anything can be arranged. But I’m afraid it’s his call, not mine, and I know the chalets are very busy.’

‘Of course. I wasn’t fishing for an invitation,’ I add, embarrassed.

She nods. ‘Don’t worry, I know you weren’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and finish the hot chocolate and coffee. Do you have everything you need, or can I get you anything else?’

I suddenly feel very tired. ‘Do you have any paracetamol? I’ve got a crashing headache.’

‘I’ll bring you some. And perhaps some water – maybe you’re dehydrated? Still or sparkling?’

‘Still. Thank you.’

57

January 2020, La Madière, France

Adam

I go for a lie-down and fall asleep immediately. When I wake up, I feel worse – groggy and slightly sick. It’s dark so it must be evening. I check the time – almost seven. I’ve been asleep for over two hours.

I feel better after a shower, helped by the lovely thick towels and fabulous-smelling toiletries. The hot water on my skin is invigorating – it’s so rarely cold enough in Thailand to warrant using water which is properly hot. I still feel rough and wish I could go straight back to bed, but I think I should put in an appearance at dinner.

By the time I get downstairs the rest of the group is on the various sofas, drinking champagne and eating canapés. My stomach churns.

‘Adam!’ Simon booms. ‘How was your day?’

Simon is red-faced, I’m not sure whether from wind burn from being outside today or from alcohol. Quite possibly both. His young wife (Cath, was it?) gives him a nudge and he pulls an ‘oops’ face. ‘Sorry,’ he blusters. ‘I mean, I hope your day wasn’t too difficult. Can we offer you a drink? Ease the, uh, I mean, well, would you like a drink?’

Millie appears at my side with a tray of champagne glasses and I fight down a wave of nausea. ‘Could I have a glass of water for now?’ I ask. ‘Maybe I’ll have some wine with dinner.’