Chapter Twenty-Four
January 2017
After visiting Theo, Lydia returned to Bath and immediately blocked Anita’s number on her phone. She needed some time to think, to breathe, to be away from everything. She even unplugged her home phone, deciding no contact with his family was the best thing for her right now.
Following New Year, Lydia’s work holiday to Andorra soon came around, and arriving in another country felt like a step in the right direction.
She boarded the tourist coach from the airport, and as they made their way through the mountainous terrain, with the scenery turning more white than green she felt a wave of excitement.
The coach disgorged passengers at various intervals until the accommodation in La Massana where Lydia would be staying. It was perfectly situated for the gondola lift to take tourists to the ski resorts, and the minute the doors to the bus opened she felt the rush of winter air, of snow sports and après-ski, of holidays and fun. And although she’d never be a true skier, she was excited. She’d stick to the baby slopes for sure and after that it’d be on to her research for all the other attractions of this kind of holiday, information to guide those who were dragged along skiing when they didn’t want to go, and give them what they needed.
She checked in, found her room and immediately connected to the free Wi-Fi. She sent a text to her boss and asked him if he’d treated her to a nice hotel because he felt sorry for her. He’d replied within seconds to say of course not and if she didn’t deliver a bloody good article, she was fired! She sent a collection of emojis back: ski boots, a girl on skis, two pints of beer coupled together and a character swimming.
She pulled back the net curtain and took a photo of the view. The area she was in seemed to be surrounded by miles of varied ski slopes with figures in the distance gliding this way and that. She sent the photo to Connor and he replied to say ‘hard life’.
The hotel room was filled with brochures about things to do but Lydia wasn’t intending to work just yet. She had a ski lesson booked in the morning as a refresher, then she’d do a green run or two. She would use tomorrow to remind herself of what it felt like to be surrounded by skiers, to be going so fast you wondered whether you’d ever be able to stop, what it was like to feel the icy rush of air against your face as you made your way down a run, and, more than likely, exactly what it felt like to fall in a heap when you lost your balance. Lydia was a great believer that the best form of research was to do something yourself, but she had her limits, and after tomorrow she could move on to alternative activities.
She had dinner in the restaurant downstairs that night, dining out on a lobster bisque with crusty French bread on the side, then a salade niçoise topped with extra anchovies. She allowed herself one glass of white wine, and then back in her room she flicked on the television to settle back and watch The Holiday.
*
The alarm the next morning was a rude awakening and the comfy warm bed wasn’t something Lydia really wanted to part with, but she eventually dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the hire place in town to collect her skis, poles and boots.
Part of the throng of people at the gondola station, she slowly got used to the funny feel of the unfamiliar footwear with their ker-klunk as you walked, and she joined the already busy queue next to the buzzing machinery operating to take hundreds if not thousands of hopeful skiers up to the snow. She was in the Vallnord domain and heading for the Pal resort where she’d have her lesson and get a feel for the place, the atmosphere, the start of her lengthy write-up. Ian wanted this to be a huge feature and so she planned to write a bit each day, making it far easier a task when she returned to the office. Doing it that way also meant she’d have lots more information than she really needed and it was how she worked best – over-research and cut it down later.
The gondola moved round slowly and Lydia rested her skis on her shoulders, boarding and taking a seat so she was facing forward. She looked down as they soared higher and higher up the mountains, the white layers beneath already littered with tracks from skis or snowboards that had left their mark. The landscape stretched for miles in every direction and trees sprinkled with frost glistened beneath the sun.
Three hours later and Lydia had had her refresher course and with a few of the other participants, elected to do the green run one more time before the end of the session. Some were already talking about tackling something a little more challenging tomorrow, but for Lydia this was as far as she’d come. She took the chair lift to the top of the run, legs weighted with skis and dangling down helplessly. She only got nervous as they reached the end of the journey and the two other skiers she was sharing a chair lift with lifted the safety bar a little too early, in her opinion, ready to glide away. She wobbled but thanks to a reasonably strong core from all her dancing, she managed to right herself and was able to glide across to where they’d start the run.
She began her descent in snowplough, and after a few turns to get a feeling for the slope she moved her skis so they were more parallel, but not too straight as she didn’t want to go so fast that she started to panic. She concentrated hard as the wind rustled past and her shadow kept her company all the way. The other two ladies from her lesson were already starting to leave her behind and she waved them off, happy to glide down by herself. As long as a snowboarder or a more confident skier didn’t cut across her then she’d be just fine.
Her legs were beginning to ache and already she was thinking about the corner bath back at the hotel. She’d brought with her some of her favourite Jo Malone bath oil and she intended to have a thorough soak later, wrap herself in the fluffy bathrobe and write up the notes that were multiplying in her mind.
Lydia was so busy thinking about the bath, her write-up and taking in the beauty of the surrounding Alpine scenery that when her skis hit an uneven patch of snow she wasn’t prepared. Her arms flung out to the side, her legs went from beneath her and the cold, hard surface below made contact with her bum with a smack. She groaned. One pole was still in her hand, the other a few metres away and she lay there for a second. Thank goodness for helmets as she knew she’d hit her head as she lay looking up at the sun, a fierce pearl-like ball in the sky.
She tried but failed to push herself upright and while a snowboarder yelled obscenities for her to get her arse out the way, another skier took pity and as he asked her whether she was all right, he put his hands under her arms from behind and hoisted her upright. All she wanted right now was to get these skis off her feet, rip off these boots, goggles and helmet and relax into a nice hot bath.
‘You were going pretty fast,’ said the man, who skied to retrieve her other pole and then side-stepped up to meet her again.
‘I hardly think so. I’m not good enough to do that.’ As he got closer she realised why his voice had sounded so familiar. She lifted her goggles. ‘Jonathan?’
A huge grin spread across his face when he saw her face unmasked. He lifted his own goggles. ‘Lydia? I didn’t recognise you. It’s great to see you.’
At that moment another skier came so close he ran over the back of Jonathan’s skis. Jonathan yelled after him but Lydia doubted his language would’ve been so tame had she not been with him.
‘Come on.’ Jonathan handed Lydia her missing pole. ‘If you’re ready, we should get out of the way.’
They both positioned their goggles and Lydia started off first, only too aware Jonathan was close behind. Her heart thumped but she didn’t know whether it was because he was watching her every move or because she was terrified of falling again.
Civilisation rather than nothing but snow and mountains came into view and Lydia relaxed but not too much. She still needed to make it to the end of the run and when she did, Jonathan skilfully skied to a stop next to her and shuffling, the only way you could move on flat ground when you had skis strapped to your feet, they made their way over to a place that served, Lydia hoped, hot chocolates with all the trimmings. She was tired, starting to feel a chill, and she was well and truly over it.
She used the bottom of one ski to tread on the back of the other and release the hold on her boot, and when she struggled with the remaining ski, Jonathan helped her wrestle her remaining boot from the bindings. She pulled off her helmet and took her sunglasses from the inside pocket of her jacket where thankfully they’d remained safe, even though she’d fallen three times today in total, all of them on her behind.
‘What were you doing on the green run?’ she asked Jonathan as they made their way inside to order drinks. She was flustered and had no idea what to say, so small talk it would have to be.
‘I’ve been teaching this morning and I was going up there with some of the less confident of my students. On the last run up they’d already waved goodbye before I’d got off the chairlift.’ He grinned. ‘I didn’t see them in a heap on the way down so I assume they’re either here somewhere, or they’ve already gone back up to tackle it again.’
With a hot chocolate and a bacon roll each, they went outside.
‘This is good.’ Jonathan’s face was tanned and kissed with the afternoon sun. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Skiing makes you hungry for sure.’ She hoped the ketchup wouldn’t ooze out of the sides of the roll and down her chin.
‘Are you here with friends?’ When she shook her head he asked, ‘Boyfriend?’
It’d be funny if the situation wasn’t so serious. ‘No, I’m here on my own.’ He seemed surprised by that so she figured she’d better add, ‘My boss sent me to do some research for a new feature. It was supposed to be someone else’s gig but she can’t do it.’
‘You scored big.’
‘You think so? I’m not much of a skier so this will be my only day on the slopes.’
‘No, you can’t do that.’
Lydia explained all about the article with the different angle. ‘To be honest, I’ve enjoyed today more than I thought I would but I can’t say I’ll be sad to have my feet on solid ground for the rest of the time. How long are you out here for?’
‘Another couple of weeks and then I finish teaching. I’m heading back to the UK after that.’
‘Is it almost time to get back to the life of an architect?’
‘Almost.’
The way he was looking at her made her realise he too was most likely thinking back to the day they’d first met. Using her spoon, she scraped off the lashings of cream they’d added to the hot chocolate. It was way too much. ‘How do you feel about it?’
‘Skiing is the dream and I love it, but I’m happy to go back to reality. I’ll still try to head to the ski resorts every year, when I can. This is my first time in Andorra but I’m hoping to come back. It’s pretty spectacular, don’t you think?’
‘It’s my first time here too, and yes, it’s beautiful. I’ll bet it’s nice in the summer.’
‘You’re more of a summer person?’
‘I guess so. I’m not into the adrenalin of winter sports, but I could see myself hiking or horse riding in the warmer months.’
They talked more about what Andorra would be like when the weather changed. Lydia had researched the area before her trip so she had plenty to tell Jonathan. Andorra, located in the Pyrenees in Southern Europe between France and Spain, was a summer haven for many, but it was easily overlooked with its focus on winter skiing. ‘In the warmer months when the snow has melted, there’ll be long sunny days with miles and miles of walking trails, mountain streams, the sun beating down.’
‘It sounds as though you’ll definitely be back.’
‘Maybe.’
‘So what else do you have planned while you’re here?’ He stacked his empty plate on top of hers while she reeled off the list of what she still wanted to see.
‘It sounds like a busy schedule,’ he said.
‘I’ve purposely done the skiing first and saved the best till last.’
‘Oh yes? And where do you have in mind?’
‘Caldea Spas.’ She stirred the remains of the cream she hadn’t scraped off into the hot liquid beneath. ‘I’m going to try everything – the pool, outside lagoons, Jacuzzi, Roman baths.’
‘Actually, given I fell over quite spectacularly yesterday and have the bruise on my thigh to show for it, Caldea Spas sounds incredible. And I’m a bloke.’
‘I’m wondering how many men I’ll see there.’
‘I guess it depends how in touch with their feminine side they are.’
When Jonathan smiled she looked away. It’d been a long time since any man had made her feel so nervous and awkward, and suddenly she felt overwhelmed. ‘I should get back to the hotel.’
‘Sure. I’d better get going too.’
‘Thanks for the hot chocolate.’ She stood up, smiled and turned in the direction of where they’d left their skis leaning up against the wall at the side of the coffee shop.
Jonathan followed and reached for his skis. ‘Where are you staying?’
Skis resting against her shoulder, she said, ‘In town…La Massana.’
‘Same here, except I’ll bet your hotel is a bit nicer than the apartment I’m in.’
‘My boss chose well.’ Even though she’d felt uncomfortable, it wasn’t because he was a hard man to talk to. He was easy-going, friendly, conversational. It was what was going on in her head that was the problem. ‘I have some extra time as a holiday but I’ll switch accommodation then, so it’ll be a bit of a downgrade.’ She pulled on her gloves and picked up her poles. ‘I’d better get going, work on the article.’
‘Listen, about the article…I often wear a camera on my helmet to record some of the action on the slopes – call me a typical bloke but I enjoy watching the footage, especially when I get into the black runs. If you like, I can show you some of it, and you could interview me, maybe give you more to write about.’
Lydia didn’t think it was necessary at all but being one to over-research and gather as much information as possible, she found herself agreeing and they swapped numbers. Perhaps talking to a pro, someone with community pull and the charity work he did, she’d have an extra edge with this piece.
Jonathan zipped up his jacket. ‘How does tomorrow night sound?’
The way he was looking at her was anything but platonic, but for the first time, Lydia didn’t feel guilty. ‘Tomorrow night sounds perfect.’
She smiled at him as they went their separate ways. It wasn’t that she knew Theo had cheated on her that had made her agree to seeing Jonathan – somehow that little fact seemed like old news, so far away was her old life with him in England – it was more that she’d been through all the grief and emotion with Connor, culminating with the night they slept together, and now she felt as though it was time to give herself permission to move forwards.
*
‘I can barely watch!’ Lydia had her hands across her eyes, fingers parted just enough to watch Jonathan executing a smooth finish to the black run which, even from the comfort of the hotel sofa the next evening, could best be described as terrifying. ‘You made it.’ She sighed with relief.
‘I’m sitting beside you.’ He laughed hard. ‘Of course I made it.’
‘Now do you see why I’m no skier. Most people would watch and not have a problem. Still, at least I’ll have plenty of adjectives to describe it in my piece. Do you mind if I mention you by name?’ She was excited about putting the entire article together. All day she’d been interviewing people about snowshoe walking and mushing, and participating in both activities herself.
‘Of course not. Always good to keep my name out there. I’m lined up to do another charity event in Hertfordshire later this year.’
Lydia wondered whether she would be sent to cover it. She hoped so.
As Lydia spent more time with Jonathan, the inevitable comparisons between him and Theo began to creep in. They were similar with their air of confidence, their love of sports, and yet they were different in their mannerisms and appearance. She liked the way Jonathan’s lips pulled to the side when he thought about something complex or when he was trying to use the right words to explain skiing techniques and intricacies.
Jonathan was handsome, so was Theo, and both men turned plenty of heads without realising it. And even though she barely knew him, already she could tell that Jonathan had what Lydia would describe as a laissez-faire attitude to life. Theo had always been very focused on his career path: where he wanted to be in two, five, ten years from now.
‘Anyway, enough about the black runs.’ Jonathan sat at the other end of the two-seater sofa, one foot across his opposite knee, and brought Lydia back to the present. ‘Tell me about mushing.’
‘I really had no idea what to expect but I have to say, I totally loved it.’
‘See!’ He playfully pinched the top of her knee in a pincer grip. ‘You love the speed.’
She wondered if he knew what effect his touch had on her and if he did, whether he’d still do it. ‘I was safely in the sled with someone else in control. I didn’t have two skis strapped to my feet.’
‘How long did you go out for?’
‘Almost an hour, I think the guy knew I was enjoying myself. I just tried to forget that he could leap off the back at any second and my fate would be in the hands, or paws, of those dogs. It was faster than I thought but thrilling.’
‘And what about snowshoeing?’
‘It was okay.’
‘Ah…reading between the lines, you mean dull.’
‘Compared to mushing, yes. Totally. But it’s all good for the article.’
‘I’m sure it is.’
A silence hung between them and when Lydia noticed Jonathan’s gaze drop to her lips more than once, she suggested they go down to the bar for a few drinks. She could do with a glass of red wine and she was hungry, and from the speed of his answer Jonathan was thinking along the same lines.
Over a couple of bottles of red and a beautifully cooked steak they talked more about Andorra, La Massana and some of the other countries Jonathan had skied in.
‘You’re winding me up,’ she said, scraping the final piece of steak through the glossy mushroom sauce after he told her he sometimes ventured all the way to Australia.
‘It’s true.’ He sipped his wine, his eyes only on her. She was sure they hadn’t flickered elsewhere since they’d sat down. ‘There’s skiing in Australia. I spent most of my time last year in Fall’s Creek, New South Wales, but I know they have other resorts too.’
Impressed, Lydia got him talking about different kinds of holidays and they found they’d been to many of the same places.
‘Why has it been so long since your last holiday?’ he asked.
‘Oh you know, new job, trying to pay a mortgage.’
He raised his glass. ‘Well cheers to more holidays for you after this one.’
‘I’ll raise my glass to that.’ And when they’d looked at each other longer than was comfortable, she disguised her unease by gulping the rest of her wine.
Jonathan insisted on picking up the bill for the meal even though Lydia had explained she’d be able to put a few things on expenses, and being the perfect gentleman he walked her to her room afterwards. Her heart pounding against her chest, she thanked him for dinner and when she’d partly opened the door, he kissed her, just once, very lightly on the lips.
‘It was lovely to spend the evening with you,’ he told her.
Did he feel the same current zapping between them?
‘You too.’ They were the only words she could manage before he turned and left the hotel and she fell into her room, wondering what they’d started.