Christmas in the Snow (35 page)

Allegra nodded.

‘Do you have a photograph of my great-grandson? I should love to see him. See whether he has my good looks.’ He chuckled as Allegra looked for a photo on her phone and handed it
over. ‘Ah yes, yes. He’s like his mother. I can see that.’ He looked back at her. ‘You and your sister are very close.’

‘Yes. Best friends really.’

‘And her husband? Does he deserve her?’

‘Um . . .’ It was exactly the question he shouldn’t have asked.

‘No?’

‘It’s not that,’ she said quickly. ‘Lloyd means well enough and he’s very . . .
personable
.’ She knew she had made it sound like a four-letter word,
but she couldn’t help it. ‘I just think he takes her for granted. I mean, you’ve seen her. She’s such a catch and so fun to be around. Lloyd just . . . lies on the sofa and
drinks beer when he gets in and grunts like a teenager most of the time.’

‘So you think she could have done better,’ Lars smiled.

‘No, no,’ Allegra laughed. ‘Well, maybe.’ She shrugged. Lars arched his eyebrows. ‘Probably . . . OK, yes. Yes. She settled.’

‘But you’re not going to do that.’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘You don’t believe in happy endings?’

‘Let’s just say I don’t believe in white knights.
I
am my white knight.’

He patted her hand with a smile. ‘You are a modern woman. Your grandmother would have been so proud.’

She fell still, realizing he meant Valentina, not Anya, but she well remembered the glow in her granny’s eyes when her grades had begun to improve, when she’d got her first-class
honours degree, her first job . . . ‘Do you really think so?’

‘I know it. I listen to you and I watch you, and it’s like you are her, come back to me.’

‘Well, we have come back to you.’

He smiled, just as the nurse came back in with a tray of coffee and pastries. Allegra glanced over at her, but Lars ignored her. He had eyes only for Allegra. ‘Of course, there is still
one thing we have yet to discuss.’

Allegra blinked up at him. ‘What’s that?’

‘What are you to call me?’

‘Oh.’ Her mouth opened in surprise. ‘We did . . . wonder what would be . . . appropriate.’

He watched her with eyes that betrayed a still-sharp intellect, seeming to understand her reluctance to move straight into terms of endearment. ‘Of course, I know these things can’t
be rushed.’

She smiled shyly, grateful he understood.

‘Although, at eighty-eight years of age, I could be forgiven for asking for a
little
haste.’

His eyes twinkled and Allegra couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Quite!’

‘You know, the word used by the local children here is “
opa
”.’

‘
Opa
?’ she repeated, trying it out for size. It didn’t seem . . . intrusive, like ‘grandpa’ or ‘granddad’. Both those words carried a
suggestion of familial intimacy to her that couldn’t possibly be expected yet, but by virtue of being foreign, ‘
opa
’ was just a collection of sounds. No pressure.’
I like that,’ she smiled. ‘Do you mind if I run it past Isobel first?’

‘Of course. You can come back tomorrow and tell me her answer.’

‘I will,’ she grinned, pleased to have another invitation to visit.

Picking up her coffee and taking a sip, her eyes flitted around the room with growing curiosity. There were very few old photographs out, most of them taken in the 1970s and 1980s, it seemed,
and her eyes came to rest on the cuckoo clock again. ‘You know, I think the clock we found in the loft
is
very similar to yours. I remember it’s got the same garden at the
front, and the detailing on the balconies is almost identical.’

‘It is hard for me to recall exactly.’

‘You were lucky to find someone who could do a copy for you.’

Lars shrugged. ‘There is a carpenter in the village who makes them. I think he still does.’

They lapsed into a small, comfortable silence.

‘Can I ask you something?’

He nodded.

‘Did the police contact you when they found Valentina?’

‘No.’

‘But why not?’

‘Because I am no longer her next of kin. My remarriage invalidated that status.’

Allegra frowned to think he’d been treated as an outsider after the discovery of his own wife’s body. ‘But that’s terrible.’

‘Oh, I have known worse.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘It is just red tape. Besides, take away the visitors and this is a small town still. The news came back to me as quickly as the
police would have done anyway.’

‘Father Merete says you haven’t been to church since they found her.’

His expression changed. ‘No . . .’ His gaze became distant, his voice faraway. ‘Many of the older families in the town remember your grandmother’s disappearance. It was
one of the town’s greatest tragedies. She was never forgotten in all those years she was lost and now there is almost an excitement about it all.’ He looked back at her. ‘I am not
ready for that. I cannot
celebrate
that she has been found.’

Allegra fell quiet in the face of a love that had endured even through sixty years of loss, of never knowing what had happened . . . He still loved her as much now surely as he had as a young
man. No wonder Granny had run . . . Who could compete with that?

‘Well, she’ll be able to rest in peace, at last,’ she said quietly.

‘Yes. Thanks must be given for that.’

They fell into another silence again, but it was light and easy, a frank familiarity beginning to grow between them. She watched him as he stared in the fire. Opa.

‘Why do you think she went up to the hut that night?’

Lars’s eyes swivelled round slowly to meet hers, as though weighted down by the question, and she could see from the weariness with which he shook his head how many times he had been asked
that question before.

‘Were you with her the night she disappeared?’

He nodded. ‘We had eaten and I had gone back out to check on the herd. It had been snowing for two days, and more snow was expected for that night. It was so deep by then that we had
rounded the goats into the pens for their safety. When I came back, maybe forty minutes later, she had gone.’ He shrugged. ‘She hadn’t been feeling well and I thought she had gone
to bed.’

He stopped talking and she recognized a look on his face that she knew so well in her mother’s – he had retreated to another time, another place.

‘I have never forgotten the moment I went upstairs and found the bed empty. It was like someone had plunged my heart in ice.’ He shook his head, over and over. ‘And I knew
then. I knew she was gone. There was no
reason
for her to have gone out.’

‘How much later was this?’

‘An hour? Slightly more.’

She had been out of his sight, then, for around two hours – and two hours of snowfall in a hundred-year storm meant her footsteps must surely have been obscured . . . ‘Had anyone in
the town seen her?’

‘Not that evening. Not even Timo, and I believed him, though many didn’t.’

‘Who’s Timo?’

‘The boy she had been engaged to before me. A lot of people hated me for coming in and stealing the prettiest girl in town, and him most of all. It was a big upset back then.’

The revelations surprised her. ‘You weren’t born here?’

‘No. Bern. I was a city boy. My family had a successful printing business.’

After a lifetime of stunted family conversations in which memories were equated with secrets, it made Allegra’s eyes glow to hear about her great-grandparents. ‘So what made you come
to Zermatt?’

‘You mean apart from the pretty girls?’ he laughed softly. ‘I came to ski with some friends before I started my apprenticeship. You can imagine my father’s reaction when
I told him I was staying and marrying a goat farmer’s daughter.’

‘Oh heavens!’

He frowned. ‘People are strange, though. Her father was more against the marriage than mine. I came into it with if not a fortune, at least a modest dowry, and it was certainly better than
anything Timo or any of the other locals could have given her. I told him I would give Valentina a better life than she could ever have expected, but he didn’t want her marrying a
“foreigner”, as he called me.’ He shook his head bitterly. ‘Even now, all these years later, I wish he could have seen what I could have given her, that I kept my
promise.’

Their eyes moved over the chalet and Allegra knew from her own Alpine holidays that this was probably worth at least 7 million Swiss francs.

‘There’s a saying back home – “There’s nowt so queer as folk,”’ she said.

Lars looked at her quizzically, clearly not understanding, just as the nurse came back in to collect the cups and plates. She was as unsmiling as she had been yesterday, and she placed
Allegra’s half-empty cup down so hard on the tray it slopped over the sides.

Annoyed, Allegra watched as she walked away again. ‘Do you have many problems with your staff?’ she asked loudly – certainly loudly enough for the nurse to hear and Allegra saw
her pause by the door. She already knew from Lars’s reaction yesterday that he felt less than supported by the woman.

Lars laughed, patting her hand appreciatively. ‘Indeed I do, Allegra. Indeed I do.’

‘So here you all are,’ she said, pulling off her gloves and staring down at the three men with a shy smile. Zhou, Sam and Massi were sitting in a row at a table,
all leaning back on their chairs against the wall behind them, eyes closed, their faces tilted up to the sun. In front of them were tankards of beer, almost finished, suggesting they’d been
here a short while at least.

Zum See was one of the most renowned mountain restaurants, not only in Zermatt but all of the Alps, and had been easy to find. She had wandered into the tiny constellation of ancient sheep sheds
and grain stores that made up the famous eatery, led as much by ear as by nose, for the noise was terrific – a perfect storm of pan-European languages as ‘Pass the bread’ and
‘More wine?’ were called at the tables in French, German, Italian, Spanish, English, Portuguese . . .

The sun had pierced the snow clouds at last and everyone clearly wanted to make the most of the rare good weather. Every table was packed, some people squeezed in round the corners with barely
room for a side plate; a courtyard of sorts had been created by virtue of outdoor tables being arranged against and around the various decrepit, tumbledown outbuildings, but the ground was uneven,
straw strewn across the paths. It was a contrary scene – rich customers in their designer clothes clamouring to enjoy the erstwhile peasants’ delight – and she absolutely saw the
appeal. In fact, she loved it. After all, she belonged to both worlds.

She took off her helmet and clipped it with all the others onto a rope that was slung between two pegs on the wall.

‘Our little bird,’ Massi grinned delightedly. ‘I knew you would fly back to us.’

‘Did you do what you needed to?’ Zhou asked, immediately raising his arm to flag down a passing waitress.

‘Yes, thanks,’ she replied brightly. She was still buoyant from seeing Lars again and felt relaxed, even in the face of Sam’s stony stare. ‘I’ll have a
vin
chaud
, please,’ she said to the waitress. She looked back at Zhou. ‘Have you ordered food yet?’

He nodded. ‘We weren’t sure if you were coming or not.’

‘No, that’s fine.’ She looked back at the waitress. ‘Something quick – pasta?’ she shrugged.

‘Lemon ravioli?’ the waitress asked.

‘Great.’

She sat down on the bench opposite them as Zhou and Massi sat forward, their elbows on the table. Sam, naturally, had closed his eyes again, like a child pretending that if he couldn’t see
her, she wouldn’t be there.

The guys took in her ski kit. She had gone back to the chalet to change and check on Isobel.

‘How is your beautiful sister?’ Massi asked, sloshing some warmed wine from a carafe into a glass for her, not waiting for hers to arrive.

‘I think the novelty’s beginning to wear off,’ she grinned. ‘Now that she’s on her own and we’re all skiing, anyway. I’m sure she’ll be delighted
to relapse later when we’re all back.’

Zhou and Massi laughed.

‘Will she rally for the party?’ Zhou asked.

‘Will she rally? Listen, she’ll
rule
the party. Even from the sofa.’

‘I love her,’ Massi declared simply.

‘I know,’ Allegra smiled. She spotted the breadbasket and grabbed a piece. ‘So tell me about your morning. What’s the snow like?’

‘In-credible,’ Massi replied, pinching the air. ‘Powder up to your nose.’

‘He means knees,’ Zhou said with a roll of his eyes.

‘Wow. Where did you go?’ she asked.

‘Over the border into Cervinia,’ Zhou said. ‘It was quieter over there, and we prefer the north-facing slopes in backcountry.’

‘That sounds wise. I’m sorry to have missed it.’

‘Are you going to come out with us after lunch?’

‘If you’ll have me, thanks.’

‘We thought we’d try over in Trift. The Ober Gabelhorn glacier is at the top, and there are no marked runs or lifts at all. I’ve never seen anyone over there, so we should have
the place to ourselves.’

Wasn’t that where Connor had said Valentina had been found?

‘Great.’ Reaching in her pocket, she found her Chanel Neige lip balm, which gave her full UV protection without making her look like a Test cricketer, and she began absently dabbing
her lips, wondering if Sam intended to spend the entire lunch blanking her.

‘So,’ she said, putting the lip balm away again, determined to shine in his eyes like a too-bright light, ‘Zhou told me you all met at Harvard Business School. What do you do
now, Massi?’

‘I make cupcakes.’

‘
What?
’ Disbelief made the word come out as a squeal. ‘Sorry. It’s just that . . . cup . . . You went to Harvard to make cupcakes?’

Massi laughed too. ‘I know! It’s insane. You should have seen my father’s face when I graduated and showed him my business plane.’

‘Plan. And no, you really shouldn’t have,’ Zhou said, shaking his head, no hint of a smile. ‘His father’s almost as traditional as mine.’