One by One

“Give us a tow,” Topher says to Eva, with a grin, and she rolls her eyes and sticks a pole out behind her. I point them in the right direction and watch as they schuss off along the little narrow path between the trees. When they get to the flat, Eva breaks out into a beautiful skating motion, pulling Topher along behind her, and I watch her as she goes, her scarlet ski jacket flickering in between the trees. Whoever it was who described her as practically an Olympian is right; she’s a very good skier. Better than me, and I’m no slouch. Topher, from the way he handled the steep little descent at the beginning, not easy on a board, is evidently in his element.

Rik goes next, he’s clearly an experienced skier, even if he lacks Eva’s flair. Then Miranda, who snowplows the first steep section in defiance of my advice, grinds to a halt on the flat, and has to stump along looking embarrassed. I would guess she’s competent rather than excellent, probably knows the basics but is a little too cautious to be really good. Next comes Inigo in a grass-green jacket that somehow makes his azure eyes look even bluer. He swooshes down with an elegant economy and passes Miranda, kindly putting a hand in the small of her back to help her regain her momentum. He’s obviously been skiing since childhood, no mistaking that relaxed grace. Then Tiger, who turns out to be a very good snowboarder. She doesn’t have Topher’s advantage of a pull from Eva, but she makes it look easy.

Carl shoots off with a look of grim determination on his cherry-pink face that says, Fuck it, might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. He manages to get one ski stuck in a soft bank almost at once and falls over with a painful-sounding crunch, but he hauls himself up uncomplainingly, gets himself back in position, and this time makes it without incident. Next up is Ani. She is wearing a bright blue jacket and white salopettes that look fresh off the peg, and her buttercup hair is sticking out around her hood. The effect is somewhere between adorable toddler and children’s TV presenter. She gives me a wry smile.

“I maybe should have put my hand up as a complete beginner,” she says apologetically. “I’m really not very good!”

“Don’t worry,” I say encouragingly. “There’s literally nothing that can go wrong on this bit, and the advantage of a heavy dump of snow is that at least it’s soft when you fall over.”

She grins at me, shoves off with her poles, giving a little squeak of alarm as the path falls away, and she almost tips backwards in surprise, wheeling with her poles. But she regains her balance somehow, and with a laugh she’s off through the trees to where the others are waiting just out of sight.

Finally it’s just me and Liz. In contrast to Ani’s game enthusiasm she looks hot and stressed, and overdressed—she’s clearly wearing far too many layers for such a nice day and is already visibly sweating. I’m annoyed with myself for not checking the gear of the inexperienced skiers, but it’s probably better for her to be overdressed rather than under, and in any case, it’s too late to tell her to take some off. I’m just about to give her a pep talk when something strikes me.

“Hang on, where’s Elliot?”

“Oh,” Liz looks embarrassed. “Didn’t Topher tell you? He doesn’t really… join in.”

“Oh.” I’m surprised somehow. I kind of had the idea that Snoop was one of those companies where joining in wasn’t exactly optional. Carl certainly gave that impression. Liz must have read my expression.

“I know… He’s not the only person who’d rather be in their room, but somehow he’s the only one who gets away with it. But that’s what you get for being Topher’s best friend, I guess.”

“Have they known each other long?”

“They were at boarding school together,” Liz says. The talk is helping, I realize. She’s lost the look of pinched anticipation. “Along with Rik.”

“Christ, talk about the old boys’ network,” I say, before I can help myself, and then blush. Out here, in my salopettes, it’s harder to remember I’m Erin the ski chalet host, not just Erin the skier. But Liz doesn’t seem offended. She even gives me a very small smile.

“I know, right?” she says. Then she reddens, as if she’s been unspeakably daring.

Encouraged by her unbending slightly, I decide it’s time to go.

“Okay, well, we’d better catch up with the others. Are you ready? I’ll go in front, so don’t worry, you’re never going to get out of control. If you do, you’ll just slide gently into me.”

“I still…” Her face looks pinched again, staring at the narrow path with something like dread. “It just looks so steep.”

God, she really isn’t a natural skier. I make up my mind.

“I tell you what, give me your poles.”

She hands them over, obediently like a child, and I clamp them under one arm and stick my own out behind me.

“Now hold on to these, okay? Got it? One in each hand.”

She nods, and I push us off, very gently, using my thigh muscles to slow our descent.

With Liz’s weight behind me, pressing on my poles, the easy little schuss is much harder work than usual, but we make it to the flat, and I follow Eva’s example, skating along, pulling Liz behind me, listening to her panting breath.

At last we come out of the trees and glide down the slope to the bubble lift, where the others are waiting for us, standing just outside the turnstiles, underneath a painted wooden sign reading LA REINE TC.

“This lift is easy,” I say to Liz, reassuringly, under my breath. “No skiing on or off to worry about, you take your skis off and walk on.”

“Oh… phew.” Her expression clears a little bit, and then she glances up at the top of the mountain where the clouds are gathering. “What’s the rundown like?”

“There’s two stations. If you get off at the first station, it’s easy. You’re halfway up the mountain and you can pick either the green run, Atchoum, back down to the bottom of the lift, or the blue, which peels off down to St. Antoine le Lac. If you stay on the lift it goes right up to the top of the mountain. There are amazing views when it’s sunny but, well.” I wave my arm at the clouds that are already closing in. “Anyway, from the top station you have the choice of two runs, La Sorcière, which is a black run off to the left that follows the path of the lift, or the top part of Blanche-Neige. That’s a blue, but in poor conditions it can feel a bit more like a red. If you’re not very experienced, then I’d recommend sticking to the first station, just until you get the feel of your skis, anyway. You could always have a go at the second station after lunch.”

“Okay,” Liz says, and she looks up at the mountain, but I can feel her doubt from here. “Will you be with us all day?”

“Just for the first couple of runs. I’ll show you the way back to the chalet, and then I’m afraid I’ve got to go and help Danny with lunch.”

Liz says nothing at that, but from the way she clutches her ski poles like grim death, I can tell she’s not keen on being abandoned.

“It’ll be fine,” I tell her, with more assurance than I actually feel. “You’re not the only beginner, Ani isn’t very good, nor is Carl. And even Miranda doesn’t look very confident.”