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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

I haul myself up from the bed and go to the bathroom to find some painkillers. There is a burst of raucous laughter from downstairs. I pull a strip of paracetamol from my washbag but it’s empty. My head is throbbing now. Ria must have some somewhere, surely? I unzip her make-up bag and rifle through – past the little boxes, brushes, packages, and lipsticks. It smells like her. I wish she’d come up to bed so I could be sure she’s not embarrassing me down there. God knows how much she’s showing me up. I need Cameron on board. I need Simon to think we’re a company worth investing in – though he seemed to be out-drinking even Ria this evening, so perhaps I don’t need to worry too much about that at least. My fingers eventually hit something which feels like a blister pack of pills and I pull it out.

It’s not paracetamol.

21

January 2020, La Madière, France

Ria

Simon and Cameron are doing shots now. There’s a lot of willy-waving going on (metaphorically only, thankfully). I guess this is one of those weird situations where both men stand to benefit from impressing each other. Poor Hugo. He’s completely out of his comfort zone here. Still, best that he’s gone up to bed rather than staying down here giving me dirty looks. Fuck him.

Millie seems to have retreated for the evening. Does she live in the chalet with us? I guess she must do. I hadn’t thought about it until now. You wouldn’t want to be going out in this weather. There’s talk of Cameron staying the night, so no chance of getting rid of him any time soon, sadly. Matt and I are on a squashy sofa tucked into a corner. The room is spinning slightly. The wine this evening was fabulous. Much as I didn’t want to come this week, at least the food and drink are excellent. I pour myself another glass from the bottle Millie left us and sink back into the sofa. I close my eyes and let my head loll towards Matt until it rests on his shoulder. It doesn’t matter – Simon and Cameron aren’t paying us any attention.

‘We still skiing tomorrow?’ I murmur.

I move my hand so it rests lightly on his crotch, careful to do it as if I’ve done it by accident. I feel him harden.

‘You sure you want to ski in this weather?’ he asks, shifting slightly.

I lift my head to peer out of the huge window at the other end of the chalet. There’s a light outside and I can see the snow is coming down even harder than earlier.

‘Maybe not,’ I sigh. ‘What about you?’