Going Off Piste

Chapter Three

Frankie was more than a little nervous as she and Reuben walked the short distance from La Vieille Grange to the foot of the cable car the next morning. As planned, Simon, Betty, Bruno and Sébastien had departed early, equipped with packed lunches and aiming to complete the fifty-kilometre 'tour' that would take them through many of the local ski areas and over the border into Switzerland. It would be a hard day with lunch eaten on the move and no time for café stops.

Reuben had spent breakfast studying a piste map of the village and promised Frankie that they would be doing their own 'tour', taking in the best sights and runs in the resort. This news didn't do much to calm Frankie's nerves, especially when he had insisted they swap mobile phone numbers 'in case of emergency', but in spite of her suggestion that he would have been happier spending the day with the more experienced skiers, Reuben was adamant he was pleased to have the opportunity to get to know the local area and that it wouldn't be at all tedious skiing at Frankie's pace. By the time they joined the queue for the cable car, Frankie was overheating in her ski gear. Under her belted black ski jacket she wore a full set of thermals and a thick pair of waterproof, lime-green trousers. At the insistence of her sister, she was also wearing a helmet, which she knew would be disastrous for her hair but might save her life if she had a fall.

"Here, swap," said Reuben, proffering his ski poles and grabbing her skis, "We've got to climb two flights of stairs."

"Oh, thanks," said Frankie, relieved to hand over the heavy skis but feeling slightly ridiculous. Reuben shook hands with the lift operator and exchanged a few words before slotting his and Frankie's skis into the ski holders on one of the small cars and standing back to let Frankie climb in first.

Once again it was a beautiful, clear day with wall-to-wall blue skies. The trees and buildings looked like they had been dredged with a heavy layer of icing sugar and as the village fell away below them and the temperature dropped with the rising altitude, the air sparkled like diamond dust in the sun. In spite of the queue they had somehow found themselves alone in a car that could comfortably seat six. Frankie suddenly felt rather self-conscious. Reuben cleared his throat and broke the silence.

"Our conversation at the airport," he began. "You thought you were talking to a stranger. Please don't worry; I don't plan to let anyone know about what we discussed."

"I know that," said Frankie with a smile, relieved that one of them had finally mentioned the elephant in the room. Reuben grinned back.

"I didn't want you to worry," he said. "So, do you want to know what we are doing today?"

"Oh, god, I'm terrified!" wailed Frankie. "I'm really not very good, you know. The others were getting very bored with me yesterday. I just kept falling over and they had to stop and wait. I could tell I was holding everyone up so in the end I made an excuse and went and sat in a café to give them a chance to actually do some skiing. Can I apologise in advance, please? I'm afraid you're going to have a very boring day."

"We'll see," said Reuben, with a dazzling grin that made Frankie's pulse speed up.

"You're not helping my nerves!" said Frankie. Then mentally berated herself for the ambiguity of the words that had just come out of her mouth.

"Don't you trust me?" he grinned again, those eyes locked in.

When they arrived at the top, Reuben jumped out first and grabbed both pairs of skis, carrying them out of the lift building. The cable car had brought them up to an area from where several chair lifts climbed higher to the different sectors of the resort. Many runs seemed to also lead back there forming a wide snowy bowl. There were cafes and a separate area for beginners with a short draglift.