The One We Fell in Love With (6 page)

Everyone had a preferred and least preferred task. After being a chambermaid, I wasn’t keen on picking up other people’s rubbish for hours on end, but some of my colleagues preferred
the cleaning shifts to riding repetitively up and down the mountain in a cable car.

Personally, liftie days were my favourites. I hadn’t yet got bored of reminding tourists to take off their backpacks or hearing them exclaim how fast the cable car in the opposite
direction was going. It was an optical illusion: we were on the same cable so when the cars whizzed past each other they were going exactly the same speed. I still smiled when my passengers
squealed as we flew over the pylons, and I thought I’d never tire of breaking through the clouds to gasps of delight.

I wasn’t sure how I would have fared if I were caught in bad weather, though. In Cécile’s first summer season, she had been manning a cable car when the operators in charge
heard of a huge storm on its way. They thought they had time to bring up the last clients of the day from Chamonix to the middle station, but the storm had come quicker than expected and
Cécile had to stop the car en route and wait for the bad weather to pass.

Storms never lasted long, but she said it was scary swinging there for half an hour and calming down the passengers while huge gusts of wind blew the car this way and that. These days she just
laughed if it happened, but I didn’t think I’d find it very funny.

I quickly changed my mind – being a guardian of the top was now my preferred job. I suspected it could well end up being my favourite job of all time.

Or maybe not, I thought to myself a short while later as I scrubbed away at a toilet bowl. My head shot up and my blood ran cold at the sound of Cécile crying out for help.

I scrambled to my feet and ran outside in the direction of her voice, jolting with shock at the sight of a young couple coming through the ice cave from the ridge. The man was supporting the
girl and her face was creased in pain.

‘She fell. I think she’s sprained her ankle,’ he said in French.

I did a double take. ‘Remy?’

He stared back at me, disoriented.

‘You know each other?’ Cécile asked me.

‘Yes. I’m Phoebe,’ I reminded him, feeling a stab of disappointment as his face only belatedly registered recognition.

‘Hello,’ he gasped, panting.

I quickly came to my senses, rushing to his aid.

We went to the nearby staff canteen where Remy lowered his companion into a chair.

‘What’s your name?’ Cécile asked the girl.

‘Amelie,’ she replied as Remy crouched down to unlace her left boot.

‘What happened?’ I asked.

The pair had been on a day trip doing the Midi Plan crossing. They’d come up on the first cable car this morning.

‘I was too slow,’ Amelie lamented.

‘It was my fault,’ Remy chipped in miserably, gazing ruefully at her foot, which we could now see was blue and swollen.

‘No,’ she cut him off firmly, putting her hand on his arm. ‘You told me we shouldn’t take so long for lunch. But we’d gone all that way.’ She winced.
‘It was my first time doing the route,’ she explained.

The Midi Plan crossing takes about six or seven hours if you’re good, but Remy had realised they weren’t going fast enough and he knew they needed to step up their pace to catch the
last cable car home at five thirty. Amelie had been at the bottom of the ridge when, tired and exhausted, she had got one of her crampons stuck in her trousers and fallen, twisting her ankle. Remy
had had to help her the rest of the way.

I was intrigued as I listened to her speak. She was definitely French, but Remy’s girlfriend had been Italian. Had they broken up? But if that were the case, who was Amelie?

Although Cécile was trained in first aid, she wasn’t allowed to administer any medicine without first calling the doctor. The doctor in turn asked to speak to Amelie before
determining that she’d be fine to stay at the top overnight. An ice pack, water and some pain relief tablets would see her through.

‘Is there anyone you need to contact?’ I asked Remy. Amelie had called her mother a little while ago, but Remy hadn’t rung anyone to let them know he was safe.

‘No.’ He took off his red woollen hat and dragged his hands across his scalp, skewing his short, dark-brown hair. He had stubble that was bordering on a beard and his face was tanned
and lean.

I couldn’t help myself. ‘You don’t need to call anyone in Turin?’

He shook his head. ‘My girlfriend and I split up a few weeks ago.’

‘Aah.’ I glanced at Amelie and he followed the direction of my gaze.

‘Amelie is my cousin,’ he explained.

‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I mean...’ I stuttered. ‘I’m not sorry to hear that Amelie’s your cousin.’

When Remy was snowboarding, his eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, but at that moment they were a striking blue and sparkling with amusement.

‘So, you work on the Aiguille now?’ he asked, taking a sip of the coffee I’d just made him.

‘Yes.’ I smiled weakly, trying to regain my composure. ‘For a little over a month now.’

‘What happened to your friend?’

‘Josie? She went home.’ I shrugged. ‘I wanted to stay for a bit longer. I don’t go to university until September, and now I have a contract here, I think I’m going
to find it hard to let it go.’

He looked impressed. ‘I know a few people who’ve tried to get a job on the Aiguille in the past with no luck. How did you manage it?’

‘Friends in high places.’ I flashed Cécile a grin. She was sitting with Amelie, but must have been eavesdropping because she returned my smile.

‘Should we carry on with the check-list?’ I asked her, slightly reluctantly. I figured the sooner our work got done, the sooner we could come back here and hang out.

‘I suppose we should.’ Cécile stood up and reached for her coat. ‘Help yourselves to anything in the kitchen,’ she told Remy and Amelie. ‘We’ll be back
in a bit.’

The moment we were outside, she gave me a comically meaningful look. ‘So he’s split up with his girlfriend, has he?’

I smirked and she laughed, continuing to tease. ‘And he and Amelie are just cousins, are they?’

‘Oh, shut up.’ I shoved her arm as she giggled.

It wasn’t protocol, but after our work was done, Cécile agreed to let Remy and Amelie join us for dinner in the staff apartment.

As we all walked across the footbridge with Cécile leading the way and me bringing up the rear, my eyes, for once, were not drawn to the view.

Remy was carrying Amelie and he looked so... well,
manly
. He was lean but strong – probably not quite six foot tall, but much taller than my five foot six inches. Older, too
– I hazarded a guess at early twenties. In contrast, Angus seemed like a lanky teenager.

I made the comparison fondly, but I still felt a pang of guilt. Angus and I were no longer a couple, but we had been trying to stay friends. I had been trying a little harder than he had, in
truth. In the five months since our break-up at Christmas, I’d instigated every single one of our very occasional email exchanges.

When I thought of Angus and how close we’d been the previous summer, my memories had a surreal quality to them. I’d loved him enough to lose my virginity to him and I remembered
feeling incredibly lucky to have found such a funny, kind, drop-dead-gorgeous boyfriend. Sometimes I wondered if I’d been mad not to fight harder for him when he asked to make our break
permanent, but I’d told myself that if it were meant to be, we would find our way back to each other again someday.

The staff apartment was pretty cosy with four of us inside. Cécile settled our guests and sorted out drinks while I prepared dinner: homemade Bolognese and, luckily, a whole packet of
spaghetti. We thought we could stretch the sauce to four.

‘What can I do?’ Remy asked, making me jump as he joined me. ‘You want me to grate some cheese?’

‘Er, sure.’ I got the Parmesan out of the fridge and found him the grater.

‘Thank you for this,’ he said as he got on with the task.

‘You’re welcome. It’s good to see you again.’ And boy, did I mean it. He had stripped down to a T-shirt and I was finding it hard not to stare at his tanned, muscled
arms. I’d met a few attractive rock climbers in my time – I used to think of them as surfers of the sky, so often fit and sexy with thrill-seeking natures and a true sense of adventure.
Usually Dad was around to keep me in line, but not this time.

In the nearby living room, Amelie laughed at something Cécile said. Remy smiled in their direction and then at me. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t place you earlier,’ he
said. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you at the top of a mountain.’

‘I suppose the last time you saw me I was on the top of a table, so it’s a fair comment.’

‘You did like dancing on those tables,’ he commented with a grin.

‘I’m still prone to the occasional tabletop dance,’ I replied as I scooped out a strand of spaghetti with a fork to check if it was cooked. ‘I mostly hang out in
Argentière these days,’ I explained, draining the pasta. ‘I live with Cécile and have a part-time bar job at
The Savoy
.’

‘I’m surprised I haven’t seen you there,’ he said, watching as I served up.

‘You must’ve been in on my days off. It’s been, what, two months since I saw you last?’

‘Something like that. I haven’t been to Chamonix as much as I would have liked.’

‘Why is that? You seemed to be here every weekend earlier in the year.’

‘Mmm. My girlfriend, Cristina, wanted me at home more. It’s part of the reason why we broke up.’

‘Aah.’

I wanted to ask him more, but our food would’ve gone cold so I grudgingly put my questions on hold.

Amelie was in high spirits during dinner, which was amazing considering the state of her ankle. She stayed on the sofa with her foot on a chair, nursing her plate on her lap. If it weren’t
for her injury, we could have been four friends chatting merrily away, but I soon became distracted thinking about our forthcoming sleeping arrangements.

In the summer months, we encouraged stranded climbers to walk back down the ridge to the Refuge du Cosmique, which is about a forty-five-minute trek on the glacier. But if they were injured or
didn’t want to, then we would let them sleep on the floor of the public toilets. It might sound mean, but some people stayed at the top on purpose to avoid paying the refuge charges, and
frankly, the Aiguille was not a hotel.

That evening, though, I couldn’t bear the thought of sending our two new friends to the other side of the footbridge to sleep in the loos, however warm they might’ve been.

I could’ve kissed Cécile when we were alone in the kitchen and she made a different suggestion.

‘I suppose they could sleep on the sofas,’ she whispered.

‘Really? Well, no, Amelie can have my bed. I’ll take the sofa.’

‘I bet you will.’ She gave me a mischievous look.

‘Cut it out.’ My cheeks flamed. ‘Are you serious, though? Can we let them stay here?’ I asked hopefully.

‘I won’t tell if you don’t,’ she replied with a comedy wink.

Amelie was extremely grateful and really didn’t take much convincing to sleep in my room. She was so exhausted that she went to bed straight after dinner. Cécile stayed up only a
little while longer before calling it a night.

‘What about the sunset?’ I frowned at her as she stretched her arms over her head. Surely she didn’t want to miss it – she was always going on about the fact that we got
the last of the sun up here.

‘Take Remy. I’ve seen enough sunsets. I’m shattered.’

It wasn’t that late, but while her yawn looked genuine, I couldn’t believe she was really that tired. She was meddling.

As soon as she went, I felt a flurry of nerves at being alone with Remy. I smiled across at him from my position on the second sofa.

‘Do you think Amelie is feeling okay?’

I regretted my chosen topic of conversation when his face fell. He shook his head with dismay, but didn’t answer.

‘It could have been a lot worse,’ I pointed out, soon regretting that comment, too.

He shuddered visibly. ‘I keep imagining having to tell her mother that she’d...’ He shuddered again, a morose look in his eyes. ‘I can’t believe I messed up so
badly.’ He looked utterly miserable.

‘Hey.’ Impulsively I moved to sit beside him.

‘I should have insisted we turn back sooner, but I didn’t, and then I rushed her...’

‘You were just trying to get down in time,’ I said, squeezing his shoulder consolingly.

‘Better late than never,’ he replied darkly.

We both fell silent, deep in thought. I let my hand drop, but didn’t move back to the other sofa.

‘You two are close, aren’t you?’ I said.

He nodded. ‘We grew up in the same village. Our mothers are sisters.’

‘How old are you both?’ I asked curiously.

‘She’s twenty; I’m twenty-three. And you?’

‘Eighteen.’

He reached forward and picked up his glass, taking a sip of his water. We weren’t allowed to drink alcohol.

‘Do you climb?’ he asked casually.

‘Ever since I was small.’ He turned to face me with interest. ‘We had a climbing wall around the corner from where we lived. It isn’t in use any more, sadly. My dad tried
to teach my sisters and me when we were seven.’

‘You’re an identical triplet!’ he said suddenly, his face lighting up as he remembered.

‘How did you know that?’ I asked with surprise. I’m sure I never told him myself.

‘Swedish Pete mentioned it,’ he explained, pursing his lips. That was the nickname we had for one of our wacky snowboarding friends.

‘Aah.’ I nodded at him. ‘Well, my sisters and I are very different. I took to climbing straight away, but Rose and Eliza struggled to get to grips with it. Rose didn’t
want to go in the first place, but my dad insisted and then she hurt her hand and gave up.’ Rose had sat on the pavement in a sulk for ages, I remembered affectionately, although Dad had been
less than impressed with her lack of effort.

‘Eliza did try, but she kept slipping and bashing her knees. She’s not the most co-ordinated person in the world, bless her, but she kept going and then suddenly, near the top, she
freaked out. She was paralysed and started to scream and had to be rescued. She’s still afraid of heights to this day,’ I mused sadly, glancing at Remy. Was I boring him? I didn’t
think so, from his expression.