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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

We leave the skis outside – Will insists on splitting them apart and pairing one of mine with one of his to avoid them being stolen – and we take a table on the terrace. I secretly hope that the skis are indeed stolen so that I don’t have to do any more of this. I don’t even care if I have to pay for them, they can go on the credit card that I don’t know how I’m going to pay off, along with everything else. It would be worth it, not to have to do this any more.

But then, sitting in the sun and looking out over the wooden balustrade, my spirits begin to lift. The sun is out and it is undeniably beautiful here.

Will reaches over the table and squeezes my hand. ‘You did really well this morning,’ he says.

I smile back. ‘That’s sweet of you to say, but we both know it’s not true.’ I pause. ‘I’m not sure I’m cut out for skiing.’

He squeezes my hand tighter and lets it fall so that he can sit back in his chair. He sighs.

It’s only then that I realize he no doubt had a vision of this holiday too. He probably imagined us whooshing down the slopes like everyone else seems to be, kissing on chair lifts, kicking our skis off in a few seconds to run into a bar for a quick beer or vin chaud or whatever, before effortlessly clicking them back on and whizzing off again. He didn’t sign up for tears and tantrums.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘Maybe it will be better this afternoon. I’ll try harder.’

He tips his head backwards and stretches luxuriantly, then rights himself and returns my gaze. His face seems more relaxed and I feel a wave of relief.

‘Don’t be silly. I know you’re doing your best. Besides, all I care about is being here with you.’

23

December 1998, La Madière, France

Will

That was a total lie.

I love Louisa, I really do. I haven’t told her yet. I thought this trip might be the right time. But fucking hell, she’s getting on my tits today.

I get that skiing isn’t that easy when you start out. But honestly, I was only four when my parents put me on the slopes, and I managed, so why is she being such a drama queen about it?

Why did I say I’d teach her? Worst idea ever. So far, I’ve skied two nursery slopes, and that’s it. At this rate, I’m not going to get in any actual skiing this week at all.