Fraser Mountain - Living the snow life

Chapter Six

I still feel a bit sick, remembering that last week and how it all came to a head, keeping my gaze fixed on the Canadian landscapes beyond the bus. I feel completely drained, and the blame doesn’t lie with the journey. I can’t quite believe how blind I was. Henry’s late nights at the office, strange texting habits, flowers, for God’s sake? I mean, really?

For all I know, Henry is still standing outside Foxton’s in South London. It was the oddest moment of my life. There was no messy break-up because I just walked away. My heart didn’t break. There wasn’t even much crying. I just got on a train and I went straight to Evie’s, where I got incredibly drunk and confessed I’d found out that my not-so-wonderful-after-all, not-so-committed Henry had been having a fling with a colleague. When his iPhone chirped one too many times as he was taking a shower, I looked at the texts in case his boss was on his case again. I almost wish I hadn’t, but her name was Emma, and as I scrolled through her messages, I discovered that she liked sending naked pictures of herself to my boyfriend.

Maybe she wanted me to find out so she could get her claws on him. I remember meeting her briefly at one of his office parties, making polite conversation over a tray of soggy vol-u-vents. She was blonde and tiny and wore perfect make-up and a beautifully tailored black suit with a bright pink lining.She was most definitely high-maintenance. I guess she wears lacy thongs too, hence the ones she left in Henry’s pocket. Then again, her exotic taste in undies doesn’t really make up for the fact that I do remember she was incredibly dull.

The more I think about it – and I’ve been doing that a lot with just myself to talk to on this trip, Emma did me a massive favour, because it was a Friday night, and Henry had lined up three flat viewings on the Saturday. I feigned a headache and I went to bed like nothing had happened. I remember lying there and feeling really queasy, cradling Pot Belly Bear to my chest and going over a million scenarios of what I should do in my head, none of which made any sense. You know when people say that you should sleep on things and it’ll all be better in the morning? It was crystal clear what I should do when I woke up. At 10.15am, we went to our usual estate agents in Colliers Wood, and I excused myself to get a coffee from the nearby Starbucks. I never looked back.

But the really funny thing, and this actually makes me smile, is that I called British Airways at Evie’s house and managed to book a really cheap flight to Calgary, because there was a cancellation – now, if that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is. I called Sam and emailed Joe, and they were both so excited for me it wasn’t even funny, and of course they told me to go for it – what was I likely to regret? I had to talk them both out of killing Henry first, but they promised to behave while I was away.

I’m startled out of my thoughts by the man that helped with my snowboard bag earlier. He smiles down at me, his hand outstretched.

‘How ya goin’? I’m Danno. Where you headed?’

‘Hi. I’m Lexie.’ I reply, pulling my earphones out and smiling shyly back as him as my hand is engulfed by large, rough fingers and pumped up and down. ‘I’m going to Fraser Mountain… for the ski season. What about you?’

‘Awesome!’ he exclaims. ‘Me too. Reckon we’re the only ones headed to Fraser.’ He gestures to the others at the back of the bus. ‘They’re all going to Whistler, but I didn’t much fancy that. Too commercial for my liking.’

I’m glad he shares Joe’s views on Whistler. I heard so many conflicting reports from people who had worked and holidayed there. It sounds like a mini-city, and I got warned that competition for jobs is fierce so I decided to choose somewhere a little smaller. Fraser Mountain was highly endorsed by numerous people on the snowboarding forums I regularly visit. According to Joe, it’s a hidden gem. I wish Joe were here… Maybe I should’ve gone to Utah after all. He’d know exactly what to say.