Weak at the Knees (21 page)

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Authors: Jo Kessel

Tags: #Contemporary Women, #Fiction

BOOK: Weak at the Knees
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“Aaaaaaa baaaaaaa.”

 

Words are spoken, a barely audible rasp. I refuse to look up, in case it’s another false alarm, or Amber whispering in my ear. Nevertheless, my heart’s thumping, expectant and hopeful.

 

“Aaaaaa baaaaaa.”

 

This time, curiosity gets the better of me. I turn my head in my hands, ever so slowly, so I can see Gina. Her eyes are wide open, staring. I jump, quite literally, out of my chair. She swallows and I can see her Adams Apple jumping under her neck like an alien trying to push through. Her lips move, but nothing comes out. I shuffle the chair up close and bend over, straining to hear.

 

“Did you say something Gina?”

 

She nods imperceptibly and opens her mouth.

 

“Caaan I reaaaaaaly haaaaaave aaaaa baaaath?”

 

I run to fetch the nurse.

 
Chapter Twenty Two
 

 

 

A couple of days later I’m driving Gina back up the mountain. The windows are down and the radio’s on full blast, blaring out the chorus of Adele’s
Rolling in the Deep
. Today’s weather is a far cry from that dreaded April 1
st
, when the heavens protested and dumped half a season’s worth of snow. It’s amazing how quickly things can change. Today’s sun is Mediterranean hot, its strength melting much of the fresh coat of snow. It’s even starting to attack the older, thicker, more resilient layer underneath. Only the top slopes are good to ski on now, with many of the runs leading back down to resort too patchy to navigate, with large tufts of grass and rocks poking through the snow. As we drive through little villages en route to Montgenèvre, the windows of the few rustic cottages we pass are opened wide. The trills of birdsong floating through the atmosphere sound more tuneful and Spring-like than before. Gina holds an arm out the window, enjoying the breeze buffeting her hand. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath of fresh alpine air, sighing. “Isn’t it wonderful here, Dan? I’m so going to miss this place.”

 

I look across and smile at her.

 

“I’m relieved you’re still around to see it. You had me going there for a while. A tiny part of me seriously started to wonder whether you were going to make it or not. Please don’t do that to me ever again.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she apologises, “it must have been really hard for you.”

 

She’ll never know quite how hard. Nobody will.

 

“Don’t apologise. It was an accident. Just promise you’ll never ski again when it’s like that unless you absolutely have to. And if you have to, then wear goggles and a helmet.”

 

She puts her hand over her heart and solemnly promises. I pray, for her sake, that her promises are more valid than mine have been of late.

 

“Tell you what though Dan, it was almost worth it, just for the bath,” she jokes.

 

*****

 

We park and then stop at the boulangerie on the way up to our flat.

 

“Do you want anything Gina?” I ask.

 

She screws up her face, contemplating as she eyes the display.

 

“I think I’ll have a pain au chocolat for a change. Actually, make that two. I’m starving. Even French hospital food is substandard.”

 

I’m asking for three pains au chocolat when Olivier creeps up on us. He always knows where to find me first thing in the morning.

 

“Salut mes biches,” he greets.

 

I still melt whenever I see him. He kisses Gina and gives her a mini hug before turning to me. There’s a perfunctory feel to the way he now addresses me in public – I know he’s concerned that nobody should cotton on about ‘us’. I’ve half a wicked mind to grab his head and yank his lips towards mine to broadcast a proper, how it really is kiss to the world, but I spare him the embarrassment. Olivier had actually first heard about Gina through Michel, not me. He was disappointed that I hadn’t contacted him and didn’t understand why not. “That’s what relationships are about,” he’d reminded me. “They’re about sharing and supporting.” But I couldn’t begin to explain away my neuroses and superstition that if I had dared to call him, then Gina would die. He doesn’t know that seeing as Gina didn’t die, I’ve decided our union has now been sanctioned by God and Amber and even Topol. He doesn’t know about my promise to Amber and how I was too weak to keep it, and I don’t want to put any ideas into his head that what he is doing is actually wrong.

 

Olivier looks Gina up and down.

 

“I wanted to see how the patient is doing, but I have to say, you look remarkably well.”

 

“I feel great,” says Gina. “I feel very well rested.”

 

I interject.

 

“Yes, well the next time you feel like catching up on some sleep, please try and do it another way.”

 

I turn to face Olivier and speak to him as if Gina’s not there.

 

“The doctors have told her to take it easy for the rest of the week, so I might be a bit busy helping her out.”

 

Gina interrupts.

 

“I’m absolutely fine. Stop fussing. I’m bored, I want to get back to work and besides, it’s your birthday on Friday, and I was planning on giving
you
some time off.”

 

“I’ll leave you two Mademoiselles to argue it out between you,” smiles Olivier. “I’ll come round about 5pm. I want to discuss your birthday too.”

 

He waves goodbye and as I watch him disappear into the distance, I wish everyone would stop talking about my birthday. I’ve always hated my birthday. It’s so not a big deal and I’d been hoping this one would slip by unnoticed. It’s the first year Amber won’t be sending me a card.

 

*****

 

The landline’s ringing as Gina and I arrive at out flat, but we’re on the wrong side of the door. In my desire to find my keys at speed, I become fumble-fingered. Whoever it is has hung up before we’ve even unlocked the door. Ten seconds later, however, the caller redials.

 

“I’ll get it,” I squeal, dumping the pastries on the table and running for the phone which is in my room.

 

“Allo, oui?” I say.

 

There’s an awkward silence.

 

“Ariadne, is that you?”

 

I smile. I haven’t spoken to Hugo since the beginning of the season because he’s decided to give me some space, but it’s now genuinely nice to hear his voice. We might not be together any more, but I’m still fond of him. You don’t suddenly erase more than eleven years of history. I beam into the receiver.

 

“Yes, it’s me and thank goodness it is. I would die if anybody else found out that was my nickname. How are you?”

 

“I’m really well. I’m just calling to wish you happy birthday. I’m going on holiday tomorrow and as I’ll be away on the day itself, I thought I’d call you now instead.”

 

“That’s very nice of you. Where are you going?”

 

“Tuscany.”

 

“That sounds lovely. Who are you going with?”

 

He’s vague. “Somebody I work with. You don’t know them.”

 

“Male or female?”

 

“Female.”

 

“Oh?”

 

I feel mildly snubbed and know it’s ridiculous. I don’t want Hugo. The man I plan to share my life with is right here in France and neither Hugo nor my parents know anything about him yet.

 

“I’ll be back by the time you get home though,” says Hugo. “Aren’t you meant to be finished there in about ten days?”

 

He catches me off-guard and I’m not sure how to answer. Yes, my last group does leave in exactly ten days time, but will I be going home? I’m hoping I won’t be, but I really don’t know. No plan’s been made yet and I don’t want to tempt fate.

 

“Sadly the season does finish soon,” I answer.

 

“I bet you’re looking forward to seeing your parents again, Danni,” he fishes, “and perhaps me? We’ve all missed you.”

 

“I know,” I say.

 

I’m aware he wants me to tell him that I’ve missed them all too, but in truth I’ve barely given any of them a second thought these last few months. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own little mountain hideaway. Home, my parents’ home, no longer feels like mine. It all feels like a different age, a different era. Whilst I might have started off happy to hear Hugo, by the time we hang up a few minutes later, although I don’t think I let it show, I’ve descended into a black gloom. I wish he’d never called.

 

*****

 

I’m sitting on my bed, catatonic, when Gina pops her head round my door.

 

“Are you alright Dan?”

 

I’m not, but I don’t want to be a burden.
She’s
the patient, after all.

 

“I’m fine,” I reply.

 

“No you’re not. I can tell just by looking at you.”

 

She sits down next to me and I deflect the conversation.

 

“Gina, what are you going to do about Alexandre when the season finishes?”

 

She takes her time, considering.

 

“Well, I’ve thought about it and Alexandre has asked me that very question quite a few times. After I came round in that hospital bed I came to a decision. I really like him, we’ve had a great time, but there’s no future in it.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“First of all I don’t think I’m in love with him, but even if I were, I’m not sure I could live here. It’s too small for me. Long term, I think a place like this would drive me crazy.”

 

“That’s what Michel’s ex-fiancée Jane said. That she couldn’t live here. And even though Michel said he’d go to London, she didn’t truly believe he’d be happy there.”

 

“But this isn’t about me or Michel, is it Dan? It’s about you. Could you live here?”

 

It all spills out. That I love it here and can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather live. It all feels so right, like it was meant to be. But that’s not the problem. The problem is that Olivier knows that we finish up here in ten days and we’ve not discussed it. We’ve not discussed what we’re going to do about ‘us’ in the immediate future. We’ve discussed the future. He doesn’t stop going on about it. About how many children we’re going to have, about how great it’s going to be when the truth comes out. But I’m starting to worry that it’s all just words, that the truth is never going to come out and that there isn’t going to be any ‘us’ at all. I’m scared to bring it up because I’m scared that I’m right and if I am then I don’t want to hear it. I’m scared that I’ve been deluding myself all this time, that crunch time is coming very soon and when it comes to the crunch, he won’t leave his wife.

 

Gina puts her hand on my leg. “Dan, you’ve got to speak to him. I’m sure you’re worrying about nothing. I’m sure that nine out of ten people would tell you that he’s never going to leave his wife, but I think he will. I’m not just saying it, I really think it. I know how the two of you are together and he hasn’t got a family yet which makes everything so much easier. If this is what you want, if this is the life you want to lead, then I think Cinderella will go to the ball. But please promise me that I can come and stay with you guys from time to time?”

 

I hold out my arms and we hug tightly.

 

“Of course you can come to stay with us, as often as you like. Thank you Gina, for everything.”

 

I suddenly feel a whole load better.

 

*****

 

Late afternoon Olivier and I are playing with interlocked fingers, sitting side by side on the balcony step, basking in the sun.

 

“Alors, ma biche, I’ve been thinking about your birthday. Is there anything in particular that you’d like to do?”

 

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