What Happens in the Alps...

BOOK: What Happens in the Alps...
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Up in the magical, snow kissed mountains…

Two years ago, Annie Brewer's life was turned upside down when her adrenaline-junkie husband died in a tragic climbing accident. So she's hoping that moving to the beautiful village of Santorso in the Italian Alps will finally put her life back on track!

…
anything
can happen!

She might be going into business with her oldest friend – notorious lady-charmer Matt Brown – but men are
definitely
out of the question for Annie! That is, until she bumps into tall, dark and delicious Alessandro Lago on the ski slopes…and spontaneously says ‘Yes' to a date! It must be the crisp mountain air but suddenly, anything seems possible. The only trouble is, chivalrous Matt is looking more gorgeous than
ever
…

A sparkling romantic comedy guaranteed to beat the winter blues,
What Happens in the Alps…
is one story you don't want miss in 2016!

Also by T. A. Williams:

Dirty Minds

The Room on the Second Floor

When Alice Met Danny

What Happens in Tuscany…

What Happens in Cornwall…

What Happens at Christmas…

What Happens in the Alps…

T. A. Williams

www.CarinaUK.com

TREVOR WILLIAMS

lives in Devon with his Italian wife. He lived and worked in Switzerland, France and Italy, before returning to run one of the best-known language schools in the UK. He has taught people from all over the world, among them Arab princes, Brazilian beauty queens and Italian billionaires. He speaks a number of languages and has travelled extensively. He has eaten snake, live fish and alligator. A Spanish dog, a Russian bug and a Korean parasite have done their best to eat him in return. He has written historical novels, humorous books and thrillers. His hobby is long-distance cycling, but his passion is writing. You can follow him on Twitter, @TAWilliamsBooks, find him on Facebook:
facebook.com/TrevorWilliamsBooks
or visit his website:
tawilliamsbooks.com
.

With many thanks, as always, to my lovely editor Charlotte Mursell.

Thanks to Giovanna Zanchi in Aosta for her wonderful photos of the mountains.

Thanks also to John Byrne for giving me that job all those years ago.

To Mariangela and Christina with love

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Book List

Title Page

Author Bio

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Excerpt

Endpages

Copyright

Chapter 1

‘Don't look down.'

The cable car had been running smoothly along, only a few metres above the gently sloping fields. Now, as they reached the massive red and white pylon at the cliff edge, there was a rumble of pulley wheels and they swept out into the void.

Ignoring Karen's advice, Annie tightened her grip on the handrail, braced herself, and glanced out of the window and down. The valley floor was stomach-churningly far below them, the cars in the car park like models on a playroom floor. She took a deep breath and hastily turned her eyes back to her sister, doing her best to summon a weak smile.

‘I'm okay, Karen. Thanks for the warning.' She swallowed hard and tried to sound unworried. ‘It's an amazing view from up here, isn't it?' And it was. In the clear, late autumn air, the whole range of the Alps was visible on the northern horizon, with the Mont Blanc massif standing out crisply against a pale blue sky. Over to the left of them, coming in from France, cloud was beginning to build as the predicted snow approached, but for now, the Italian Alps were magnificent.

Annie decided to keep her eyes on her sister, rather than on the abyss beneath her feet. Karen, unworried, was still reflecting on the amazing lunch they had just had.

‘I'm surprised you haven't been up here more often, seeing as you live here now. That restaurant was fabulous; great food, nice people and the best view I've ever seen.'

‘I'm so glad you liked it. I haven't had much time for sightseeing. Don't forget I only got to Santorso a few months ago and there's been loads to do. Besides, you know…' Her voice tailed off.

Karen knew all too well. ‘Three or four more minutes and we'll be down.' Her tone was supportive. Karen knew that Annie's fear of heights wasn't the only reason she was finding this hard.

A few minutes later, sensing the cable car begin to slow, Annie took a cautious look out of the window and felt an overwhelming feeling of relief as the roof of the bottom station appeared ahead of them, less than a hundred metres away. The trees around the car park looked close enough to touch. For the first time she had a chance to appreciate the sheer breathtaking beauty of the place with its lush pastures dotted with cows, squat timber chalets with logs piled against the walls in readiness for winter, and a stone church that had probably been standing there for the last five hundred years. Directly below them now was a mountain stream that snaked down from the high Alps at the head of the valley. The water was so clear, Annie could even see the shadows of trout passing over the gravel riverbed. She felt her heart rate begin to slow.

There was a gentle bump and the doors of the car slid open. Annie wasted no time in getting out, but didn't reckon with the door handle. As she pushed past it in her haste to get onto solid ground once more, the strap of her bag got caught and she was stopped dead and spun round. Her right foot tripped over her left foot and she ended up sprawled on the ground. Luckily all that was hurt was her pride.

As Karen hurried across to help her up, she saw the red glow of embarrassment on her sister's face. ‘Oh, Annie, how can you be so clumsy? Here, grab hold of my hand.' She pulled Annie to her feet and they waited until the other passengers had left, before following them down the steps into the open. Annie, her cheeks a bit less red now, looked across at her sister.

‘Thanks, Karen. I don't know why these things always happen to me.'

‘It's just you, Annie. You've been like it all your life. Remember your wedding dress?'

Annie nodded. Some memories are impossible to forget. On the day she and Steve had got married, as she and her father had arrived outside the little country church and made their way up the path to the entrance, she had managed to slip, landing on her knees on the grass at the side of the path. The wedding photos clearly showed two brown marks at knee-height on the white silk of the dress. ‘I know. And it's not as if I don't try to avoid that sort of thing happening.'

‘I know, Annie. I know.'

Outside, once more in command of her faculties, Annie glanced across at the café and made a suggestion. ‘Time for a coffee before we head off? I promise I'll try not to overturn the table.'

‘You drink too much coffee, you know, sis?' Karen sighed. ‘Mind you, so would I if I lived here. It's just so good.'

Annie smiled and they crossed the car park to the café. Even now, in late November, the sun was still warm enough for people to be sitting outside. As her eyes ranged over the crowded terrace for an empty table, Annie suddenly stopped and did a double take. A man was waving at them.

‘Matt?' She took a better look. It really was him. ‘Is that you, Matt?' He jumped to his feet and waved them over.

‘Annie, how wonderful. I thought it was you.' He held out his hand, hesitated and then caught her by the shoulders and kissed her cheeks, before turning his attention to Karen. ‘And I believe this delightful creature is your baby sister?'

Annie grinned. She hadn't seen Matt for a good while, but he had been Steve's very best friend back in the old days. Before she and Steve got married, Matt had been ever-present in their lives, and even afterwards, right up to the time he had moved away from Turin to go and live in Tuscany. Annie had got to know him so very well and had always had a very soft spot for him, even if he could be a bad influence on Steve.

Both of them were climbing junkies; the higher the better, the more difficult, the more exciting. She could remember numerous occasions when Matt had arrived with Steve at midnight after driving all the way to Switzerland and back in a day to climb some insane cliff, oblivious to the fact that she had spent the whole day waiting for a phone call to say something terrible had happened. And then, of course, one day it had.

Luckily, the one big difference between the two men had always been that while Matt had been a womaniser, with a list of conquests the length of the Magna Carta, Steve had always been hers, and hers alone. Annie smiled as she heard Matt putting on the charm and saw the embarrassment on her sister's face. She made the introductions.

‘Karen, you remember Matt, don't you? He and Steve were best friends. And you know full well she's my big sister, Matt.' Karen was four years older than her; just turned forty, but the expression on her face at the moment was like a teenager.

‘Erm, hello, Matt. Of course I remember you from the wedding.'

Karen held out her hand and looked overwhelmed when Matt took it and shook it. Annie once again repressed a smile. Matt relinquished Karen's hand and turned to his companion at the table. She was a very beautiful blonde girl, probably in her mid-twenties, at least ten years younger than Matt or Annie, but that, too, was par for the course with Matt, as Annie well remembered. He switched to accentless Italian. ‘Luisa, this is Annie and her sister, Karen. I haven't seen Annie for a couple of years.' The girl shook hands with them and gave a smile that exposed a set of sparkling, bleached-white teeth.

‘Pleased to meet you. Have you been up at Chamoux?'

Annie nodded, still amazed at bumping into him here. ‘Yes, and it was lovely, apart from the cable car.' She turned her attention to Matt and surveyed him critically. He was looking very good: fit, healthy and no older than the last time they had met. And that, she well remembered, had been at Steve's funeral. She did her best to banish the memory of that grim day. His lush dark hair was still without a trace of grey even though he, like she, was edging towards forty. ‘How amazing to bump into you like this, Matt. I haven't seen you for ages.'

Annie and Karen sat down at the table with them and told them of the wonderful meal they had just had. Karen spoke English and Matt translated it effortlessly to Luisa. Just at that moment, the waiter appeared and asked what he could bring them. Karen ordered a cappuccino. Annie ordered her usual espresso.

The waiter emerged a couple of minutes later with the cups on a tray. He set them down on the table, along with a till receipt. Before Annie could reach for her bag, Matt produced a ten euro note and handed it to him. The man nodded, retrieved the slip of paper and disappeared back inside again. Annie raised her cup in Matt's direction. ‘Thank you and cheers. How great to run into you again.' And it really was. She gave him a big smile and he smiled back. The handle of the tiny brown coffee cup was hot to the touch so she contented herself with just breathing in the rich, strong aroma before setting it back down on its saucer again to cool. She looked across at Karen.

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