Christmas in the Snow (34 page)

Zhou sighed and gave her an apologetic shrug. ‘Passionate temperament.’

‘Uh . . . uh . . . a pleasure . . . Oh!’ Allegra said, trying to shake his hand, but Massi, still with his hands on her hips, began to propel her round on the spot, like she was on a
revolving pedestal.

‘Beauty . . . classical beauty,’ he pronounced. ‘The bones, the height . . . Even, see how she stands . . .’ Massi proclaimed.

‘I
would
stand,’ Isobel said, almost in protest, from her spot on the sofa, ‘but I’m under doctor’s orders not to.’

Massi, kissing the back of Allegra’s hand with a crafty wink, went to join her. ‘Ah, you are Rose Red to your sister’s Snow White.’

Isobel preened happily. ‘Pleased to meet you, Massi. But I’m afraid Zhou got my name wrong. I’m Isobel Watson. I’m married, but Allegra’s single.’

‘You are married? That I understand,’ Massi tutted. ‘But her? Single? I do not.’

‘I know, right? It does my head in. Hundreds of men are in love with her, but she ignores them all. She will not get down off that shelf.’

‘No,’ Massi breathed sympathetically, looking back at Allegra. ‘You are on the shelf?’

‘Legs is totally on the shelf.’

Allegra closed her eyes in despair. Had her sister really just called her by her private, family nickname in front of her former colleague and client?

She opened her eyes and shot a glare in her sister’s direction. ‘Actually, I love the shelf. I want the shelf. The shelf is my favourite place to be,’ Allegra said with a
warning note in her voice that only Isobel could hear. How on earth could she have made Allegra’s marital status the topic of conversation within a minute and a half of talking?

‘Can you believe that?’ Isobel asked, looking over at Sam, politely keeping him included in the conversation.

‘Yes,’ Sam said tersely, no hint of a smile, from his spot across the room.

Isobel arched one eyebrow interestedly and Allegra knew she wanted to probe further, but she was saved by Massi. Sort of.

‘So you are models, yes?’ Massi asked, making Isobel give a silent scream of delight.

Massi’s face broke into a genuinely satisfied smile at the sight of Isobel’s excitement. His hair was worn long over the ears and neck, crazy curls springing like spaniels’
ears as he talked and flopping over his eyes, a small gold hoop in his ear winking at her sporadically. His features were rounded and soft, still retaining an impression of his boyhood self, and
even as he spoke, his mouth stayed turned upwards in a smile.

‘Have you locked the doors?’ he mock-whispered to Zhou behind a cupped hand. ‘Fast – lock the doors. I’ll keep them talking. They never must leave.’

‘You’re crazy,’ Isobel laughed. ‘Like I’m going anywhere!’

Oh God, Allegra groaned inwardly. Peas in a pod.

‘Damn, she is cute,’ Massi grinned, spinning out the word like it was elasticated. He turned back to Allegra and she paused, her champagne flute frozen in mid-air as he shone the
spotlight back on her. ‘Thank God you are here.’

Allegra’s eyes jumped from Massi to Sam to Zhou and back to Massi again. ‘Why?’

‘Terrible company, both of them.
He
’ – he pointed to Sam with a sneer – ‘has been in foul temper since we arrived, and
he
’ – he
pointed to Zhou – ‘is unpressed about his parents coming back tomorrow night and clipping his wings.’

Allegra smiled at the way he pronounced ‘clipping’ as ‘cleeping’, but wondered what Sam had to be so miserable about. He was the new golden boy. He’d taken away
from her everything she’d ever worked for. Wasn’t that enough for him?

She tried to imagine his face two days from now, when he realized she’d stolen the deal from under his nose.

‘Well, I won’t be
de
pressed tomorrow night at the party,’ Zhou said, sitting back in his armchair as one of the chalet girls came round with a plate of canapés.
‘Oh, Clarice, can you tell Martin we’ll eat on our laps tonight? To keep Isobel company.’

Allegra’s phone buzzed. She pulled it from her trouser pocket and frowned as she saw Barry’s number. She glanced at Isobel quickly and mouthed his name. ‘Uh, sorry, I have to
take this. If you’ll just excuse me . . .’ she murmured, hurrying from the room, Isobel’s eyes on her back all the way.

‘Barry?’ she said, hoping she’d get good reception in the hall, but the walls were too thick – his voice warped and broken – and she quickly ran downstairs and out
onto the terrace off her bedroom. ‘Hello? . . . Oh, that’s better! Is everything OK?’

‘Hello, Legs,’ his voice swam down the line. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. I was just calling in to see how everything’s going out there.’

She sighed. ‘Well, it was going fine until an hour ago, but Iz has just hurt her knee, so she’s going to be laid up for a couple of days.’

‘No!’

‘Yes. I don’t think it’s serious, though. She’s certainly in excellent spirits.’ Understatement of the year.

‘Oh good. And how about all the meetings?’

‘So-so.’

‘Oh, that doesn’t sound too encouraging.’

‘No, it is. We’re finding out a lot. It’s just that half the time it’s things we’d rather not know.’

‘Oh, Allegra.’

Upstairs, a whoop of laughter erupted, making her look up, and she could just make out Massi’s loping silhouette through the huge windows. ‘We met Mum’s dad today.’

There was a short silence. ‘But I thought he died,’ he said in a puzzled tone.

‘So did we.’

‘Oh! So what’s he like, then?’

‘Lovely, really. Bloody old, obviously, but sharp as a tack, and he’s successful too. He wanted to know all about Mum and us. We’re seeing him again tomorrow.’

‘Oh, that’s nice,’ Barry said soothingly. ‘I’m glad it went well.’

‘Yes, me too. I was really in two minds about meeting him, but it was the right thing to do.’ She swallowed, feeling nervous about asking the question that was already hanging from
her lips. ‘What chance do you think there is of telling Mum about him?’

There was a small silence. ‘Well, if you’d asked me last week, I’d have said none. The move here really unsettled her, but she’s been sleeping so much better since you
put those Christmas decorations in her bedroom.’

‘Christmas decorations?’ Allegra echoed, puzzled.

‘Yes, you know – the little wooden angel, the Mary with baby Jesus and whatnot.’

‘Oh, those! They’re just from an Advent calendar we found in the loft. I thought they might brighten the room up a bit for her.’

‘Well, she loves that one of the Mary. She kisses it every night before she goes to sleep.’

‘
Does
she?’ The news thrilled her.

Barry chuckled. ‘And she keeps saying the angel looks like me. I don’t know whether to be complimented or offended. You should see the cheeks on that thing.’

Allegra laughed, delighted by the comedy echo. Hadn’t she and Isobel said exactly the same about the one in Isobel’s nativity set?

‘Anyway, she says she remembers it from when she was little. It really seems to have struck a chord with her, I have to say. She’s been talking non-stop about her childhood ever
since.’

‘What kinds of things?’ Allegra felt her heart beating a little faster. ‘Does she remember anything of her life here?’

‘Who can say? It’s all a bit of a muddle most of the time, but it’s just snippets, you know. Little details here and there, like when her mam changed her hair from dark to
blonde. And she was telling me this morning about a blue dress that had daisies embroidered on the chest and that she was only allowed to wear on Sundays, her favourite apparently. Do you remember
when everyone had a Sunday best? Nobody does that any more.’

But Allegra wasn’t listening. Her mother would have been four when she left Switzerland for the UK, too young to remember details like a Sunday-best dress surely? It must have been a
memory from when she was older and living in England. Disappointment banged like a drum in Allegra’s chest.

‘Has she said anything that could be related to here?’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know, like . . . being in a mountain hut or—’

Barry chuckled. ‘Why would she have been in a mountain hut?’

‘Her family were goat farmers. They owned loads of land in the valley apparently.’

‘Oh! She was talking about a goat the other day,’ Barry said excitedly.

Allegra felt her breath catch. ‘And . . . ?’

She could hear Barry straining to give her the answers he knew she wanted to hear. ‘It ate her lunch.’

Allegra smiled, the tension inside her dissolving. There would be no answers here. Her mother had been so young when she’d left, and—

‘Oh, I remember she said there was a cuckoo clock she used to sit in front of and watch, waiting for the cuckoo to pop out, and it
always
made her cry, even though she knew it
would be coming out any second.’ He paused. ‘Allegra? Are you there?’

‘Yes, I—’ It was hard to speak. She had just realized something. ‘
When her mam changed her hair from dark to blonde.
’ Valentina’s hair had been
raven-black, Anya’s strawberry blonde. The revelation brought tears to her eyes. Julia remembered Valentina. She remembered her mother!

‘Oh, wait.’ Barry’s voice became muffled as she heard him talking to her mother in the background. ‘I’ve got to go. Your mam’s wanting her biscuits and
I’ve had to hide them. She made me promise – she thinks she’s getting too fat.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Allegra half laughed, sniffing as she wiped her eyes dry. ‘Give her a kiss from us, won’t you?’

‘Always. Ta-ta.’

He hung up and Allegra leaned over the terrace, taking in the night view with a new feeling of levity. These were the moments that sustained her and she felt a new impetus to find out as much as
she could about Valentina’s past and why Anya had left.

A night breeze wrapped around her and she shivered as another bark of laughter erupted from the room upstairs. She glanced up with a wry look. If she’d had any idea when she’d woken
up this morning that she’d be spending it staying in the Yong chalet after all . . .

She wondered briefly if Pierre knew yet. Had Sam alerted him? And if so, would that be what it took for Pierre to make the call she’d been waiting for? Surely it could only be a matter of
hours now.

She stood up and hurried back into the bedroom.

‘And how the hell is this supposed to work?’

Allegra almost screamed from surprise as she saw Sam filling her doorway with chilling stillness. She tried not to show her fright. She tried not to show anything.

‘You can always leave if it’s too much for you,’ she replied with a calmness she didn’t feel, but not daring to walk another step.

‘Just what are you playing at?’ he demanded, advancing instead. ‘Why are you even out here?’ His eyes were pinned on hers, tension stiffening his jaw.

‘You know why – family business,’ she said, going to walk past him, but he caught her arm.

‘Bullshit!’ His grip was tight, his frustrations playing plainly over his face. ‘You’re everywhere I turn. You tried to sabotage my career, jacked in your own and yet
here you are, still trying to muscle in on the deal. You need to get the hell out of here.’

‘Or what?’ He didn’t reply, his threat empty, and she pointedly looked down at his hand on her arm. ‘Are you done?’

He released her and stepped back, his eyes searching hers for clues to the game she was playing.

‘Is all this just about winning?’ he asked after her as she reached the door. ‘Or just about beating me?’

But she wasn’t about to put him out of his misery. Instead she rounded the corner and ran quickly up the steps, her heart beating pneumatically. Let him wonder. Let him wonder.

Lars was waiting for her in the same chair when she arrived the next morning, and she saw the life ignite in his eyes at the sight of her. She took a seat in the chair beside
him, and he clasped her hand in his.

‘You are so much the image of your grandmother seeing you fools me into thinking I am a young man again.’

Allegra smiled delightedly. ‘I’m sorry I’m a bit late. Isobel hurt her leg on the night skiing yesterday, so she’s had me running around like a crazy thing all
morning.’

‘I hope it is not serious?’

‘I don’t think so, no, but I think she’s enjoying being waited on too much to indicate otherwise at the moment.’

Lars laughed. ‘She has spirit.’

‘Oh yes,’ Allegra agreed.

He looked better today. His colour had improved, and the shock of yesterday’s news had clearly settled, leaving only the good parts: his daughter was alive, and her family was here.

Across the room, the clock sounded the hour and a flurry of whirring cogs made her turn her head just in time to see a cuckoo pop out.

‘Oh my goodness!’ she laughed, jumping up to stand closer to it. The doors of the chalet opened and a man and a woman wheeled out, spinning in circles at the front and tipping
forwards to kiss before gliding back into the house again, until the next hour. ‘I’ve never seen one of those work before! Do you know, Iz and I found one in the loft at home just the
other week? Iz has taken it. She thought Ferdy would love it. She’s sent it off to be repaired.’

‘You have a cuckoo clock?’ He leaned forward interestedly in the chair. ‘Can you describe it to me? Maybe I will remember it.’

Remember it? Allegra looked at him. ‘Was it
yours
?’ she asked in astonishment.

‘Well, it could have been. That one on the wall there is a copy of the one I lost, although I’ve never liked it as much as the original. Giulia would sit in front of it for hours,
waiting for the cuckoo to come out, and she always cried when it did.
Every
time.’ He laughed, shaking his head sadly. ‘In the end, Valentina insisted we stop using it. Such a
shame, really.’

Allegra blinked as she sat beside him again. Had her grandmother stolen that clock too, then? ‘I’m so sorry. We never knew . . .’

‘No, no, of course not,’ he smiled, patting her hand. ‘Besides, it’s only a clock. It makes me happy to think it’s with my grandchildren now. That’s how it
should be.’