Paolina butted straight in. ‘So, come on, how did it go with il bellissimo Matt?’ Evidently, Paolina had no compunction about prying into her friend’s affairs.
‘He was great. We went to a party out by the airport. He insisted on giving me champagne and we did a bit of dancing.’ She glanced across at Paolina, her eyes shining. ‘He’s an amazing dancer. But it wasn’t a very late night. After we’d been there for a while, Matt told me he was feeling very tired and he had to get some sleep, so I was home by eleven.’ The regret was all too clear in her voice now, but Rita didn’t stay despondent for long. Out here in the fresh air, with a cloudless blue sky above them, it simply wasn’t possible. ‘So that’s why I was up early and I sent Paolina the text suggesting coming up here.’
‘Well, I’m really pleased you did.’ Annie gave a silent sigh of relief. Her little sermon to Matt had obviously worked.
‘He’s too old for you anyway, Rita.’ Paolina clearly saw the ten-year age gap as insurmountable. From the expression on Rita’s face, she didn’t agree.
‘He’s only thirty-six. I’m twenty-five, after all.’
‘Well, I’m twenty-six.’ Paolina was clearly making the point that she felt better qualified to vie for Matt’s attentions.
Annie couldn’t forget Matt’s birthday. He was only a week older than she was. Both of them would be thirty-seven early in the New Year. She breathed in deeply, the crisp mountain air cold on her lips. She pulled off a glove, dug in a pocket, pulled out a lip protection stick and ran it over her lips. As she was doing so, they heard a voice calling to them. All three of them turned as a ski instructor swept by at the head of a gaggle of little children in crash helmets, like a Chinese dragon in a festival parade.
‘Ciao ragazze!’ He raised his hand in salute.
Annie recognised him as he went past, rather glad to be included in the greeting as a girl alongside girls a lot younger than her. It was the same ski instructor who had appeared with the sledge to rescue the big black dog. She had felt his eyes on her then and she felt them again now as he sailed past. What was his name? Her eyes were still following him and he had almost disappeared across the slope, trailed by his cortege of six-year-olds, when it came to her. Paul. That was it. The Italian with the French name. She turned to the other two girls and saw from their faces that they knew him.
‘Do you two know him?’ They both nodded.
‘Paul Cornaz. He was at school with us.’ Rita glanced across at Paolina. ‘You had a thing for him for a while, didn’t you?’
Paolina nodded. ‘But he wasn’t interested in me. Every time I tried to talk to him he just clammed up and ignored me. Shame, because he’s got the most amazing thigh muscles.’ She caught Annie’s eye and looked a bit bashful. ‘I’ve got a thing about men’s thighs.’
Annie was surprised to realise that she, on the other hand, had had her eyes trained on another part of the young skier’s body. Clearly, different parts of the male anatomy appealed to different women. She shook her head to clear it of the image of Paul’s muscular bottom and reached for her goggles. As she did so, just to add to her confusion, she saw a tall figure in a blue jacket ski elegantly past and found herself wondering if it might be Alessandro with the bright blue eyes, rather hoping it was. As he, too, disappeared from sight, she pulled her goggles down over her eyes and got a grip.
‘Bè, andiamo?’
They had a spectacular morning, skiing their way around the natural amphitheatre that made up the ski domain of Montalto. Away to the right of them, at the head of the valley, was the bulky mass of Mont Blanc, while back behind them they couldn’t miss the magnificent monolith that was the Matterhorn, or Cervino, as the Italians called it. The two girls skied fluently and naturally, unsurprising as they had started almost at the same time as they started to walk. They did red runs and blue runs, black runs and some powder snow, although the depth of the powder hadn’t built up quite enough by then. It was only a degree or two above zero, but the unbroken sun warmed them through their clothes. By the time they stopped for a late lunchtime sandwich at the mid station restaurant, all three of them were boiling hot. By a stroke of really good luck, as they reached the chalet-style wooden building, a group got up from one of the tables on the terrace and the girls found themselves sitting in the sunshine gazing out over a natural spectacle of rock and snow that was hard to beat. Around them, people were stripped to their shirtsleeves, lapping up the sun even though they were in the depths of December. Annie took off her jacket and relaxed.
‘We’re lucky people.’ Paolina was in no doubt. Annie could only agree.
‘What a day. It’s good to be alive.’ And it was. Annie closed her eyes for a moment, glad of the concealment afforded by her dark glasses. There had been times over the past two years when she had seriously questioned just how much she had to live for, after Steve’s death had smashed her whole world apart. Now, out here, two years on, she could almost feel the shoots of new life growing inside her. Her eyes stung and a tear rolled down her cheek, but this time it wasn’t a tear of abject desperation. Steve had gone, but her own life would go on. She reached up and rubbed it away just as their food arrived. Annie picked up her glass and held it out. ‘Cin cin. It’s been a great day.’
They were accompanied through their meal by a small group of totally fearless sparrows who flitted around beneath and sometimes on the tables, picking up and devouring any crumbs that fell from the plates of the guests. Annie had just finished her toasted sandwich and was beginning to think about a return to her unpacking, when she felt the lightest of touches on her shoulder. She glanced up.
‘Ciao, ragazze.’
It was Paul, the ski instructor. He clumped around the table in his heavy boots, leaning down to kiss Rita and Paolina on the cheeks. As he kissed Paolina, Annie clearly saw her cheeks redden, so, she thought to herself, maybe the schoolgirl crush was still operative. When he got to Annie he pulled off his glove and held out his hand. She reached up and shook it. It was warm and strong.
‘Ciao, Paul. We saw you with your flock of little kids.’ He grinned and Rita grabbed his arm.
‘There’s a spare seat, Paul. Do you want to join us?’
He glanced at his watch and accepted the offer. ‘I’m taking a Russian oligarch and his “niece” for a tour of the pistes in ten minutes’ time. I’d better not be late for him or he’ll have me bumped off.’ He looked over at Annie. ‘Last time I saw you, you had a very cold bottom. Tell me it’s warmed up now.’
Annie saw the expressions on the faces of the other two girls as she struggled to mask the fact that she had been thinking about his bottom only a couple of hours ago. What was happening to her? This interest in men’s bottoms was a very recent development. She cleared her throat and hastily explained to Paolina. ‘Paul came to rescue the dog involved in the hit and run accident last week.’ She returned her eyes to Paul. ‘And, yes, my bottom and the rest of me are as warm as toast after a fine morning’s skiing.’
They sat and chatted and Annie thoroughly enjoyed his company. From the look on Paolina’s face, so did she. Before long, Paul glanced at his watch and stood up. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I have to go and meet my Russians. I hope to see you all again.’
Once he had left, Annie caught Paolina’s eye. ‘You know, Paolina, I rather get the impression Paul fancies you.’
Paolina scoffed, but her cheeks reddened as she did so. ‘Don’t be so silly. He hardly looked at me.’
‘I’m not so sure.’
‘Anyway, I thought he was checking you out, Annie. And talking about your bottom and so on.’
Annie laughed. ‘Nothing going on there, I can assure you. Besides, he’s ten years younger than me for a start.’ Secretly Annie felt rather pleased that the girls should think the young ski