What Happens in the Alps... (28 page)

Then, pulling on her thick jacket and gloves, she went out to clear the ice from the car. It was another spectacularly clear Alpine day. It had been a cold but dry night, and the snow conditions for the guided tour of the pistes looked very promising. She felt very relieved; the weather was one of those unknowns for which it was impossible to plan. She had little doubt now that the skiers would have a wonderful day and she thought rather enviously about how good it would have been to join them.

She was up at the hotel by a quarter to eight and she found the first of the guests already having breakfast. She took the lift up to the sixth floor and met Massimo just coming out of his office. He gave her a broad smile as he stepped past her into the lift, then raised his hand in a little wave. ‘So far so good.
In bocca al lupo
.'

Annie smiled back. She had always loved that expression, meaning good luck, but literally translated as
into the wolf's mouth
. Sight of him reminded her of the scene of her embarrassment the previous night and she shook her head ruefully as she went into Daniela's office to hang up her jacket and put on her indoor shoes.

From then on, she barely had a minute to herself all morning. Once the skiers had left, Annie took a group of less energetic guests up on the chairlift to the middle station restaurant that had been reserved for them. There, they were able to sit and look out over the full width of the ski domain, across the rows of snow-covered pine trees to the distant peaks beyond. Annie pointed out Mont Blanc and the Aiguille du Midi. As she did so, she thought of Matt, wondering whether he really would give up climbing, and knowing how much she hoped he would, but there was no time for indulging in introspection today, even if she had wanted to. The guests kept her fully occupied with a barrage of questions about everything from the extent of the ski lifts to what colour squirrels lived in the trees.

Lunch was a buffet affair, but Annie was so busy, she barely had time to grab a slice of pizza. She spotted Alex in the midst of the crowd, a couple of very interested-looking German girls hanging on his every word and one actually hanging on his arm. He was smiling and joking with them and she turned away in annoyance. Although she knew he was most probably just putting on a show of cordiality, it was infuriating to see him touching them when all she wanted was for him to touch her.

That afternoon, the guests were taken down to Santorso by coach so they could get a taste of what the town had to offer. As they were driving down the hill, past Annie's little chalet, her phone rang. It was Janet, wondering how things were going. Annie quickly ran through the afternoon schedule in her mind. She would have two free hours in Santorso after dropping off the travel agents and she had been planning to call into the hospital to see Signor Lago. She arranged with Janet to meet at Signora Toniolo's bar opposite the school for a quick cup of coffee after that.

Signor Lago was looking even brighter than the last time Annie had seen him. He was sitting propped up in the bed and reading a newspaper. As he saw Annie come in, he dropped the paper and held out his hands to her.

‘Annie, how good of you to come.'

Annie went over and kissed him on the cheeks. Then she sat down and told him how Leo the dog was doing and then all about the agents' weekend. He was delighted to hear that all was going well and when he heard about the masked ball that evening he looked and sounded positively envious. ‘Ah, once upon a time I would have loved that. My wife was a wonderful dancer.' He looked up and caught Annie's eye. ‘I wasn't too bad myself, either. Mind you, from what they tell me, it may be a while before I do any more dancing.'

‘Have you been out of bed and walking around?'

‘Yes, with one of those embarrassing frames, but they tell me I'll be able to walk unassisted very soon.'

Annie glanced at her watch after a while. ‘I'm afraid I have to dash off now. If I get a chance, I'll call in and see you on Sunday afternoon, once all the guests have left.'

‘You're very kind, my dear.' He brightened up. ‘In that case I can introduce you to Teresa – that's my daughter. She's flying over on Sunday to see me.'

Annie didn't mention the fact that she had already seen Teresa at Turin airport. ‘I look forward to meeting her.'

After leaving the old man, Annie stuck her head round Daniela's door to give her a quick progress report and then she hurried off to the café to meet Janet as agreed. She was already there, stirring sugar into a cappuccino. ‘Hi, Annie. How's it all going?'

Annie sat down with her and asked Signora Toniolo for an espresso. She told Janet all about the agents' weekend and then, after a brief hesitation, she also told her about her dinner with Alex that had so nearly developed into something more. Janet was delighted for her.

‘When do I get to meet him? He sounds gorgeous.'

Annie grinned. ‘Once we've officially moved on from good friends to something more, you'll be the first to meet him. And, yes, he is rather gorgeous, actually.'

‘Boy, you really can pick them. And what about the other gorgeous male in your life?'

‘Would that be Leo the Labrador you're referring to?'

Janet shook her head. ‘No way; the gorgeous Matt, of course.'

‘Oh, him? Well, he's down in Turin, cosying up to a bunch of film producers and their fancy women.'

Janet's eyes became positively dreamy. ‘Well, I certainly wouldn't mind cosying up to him myself.'

‘You sound like my sister. What is it about women and Matt?'

Janet shook her head. ‘Well, if you haven't noticed yet, there's no hope for you.' She changed the subject. ‘Have you tried the new dress alongside the peacock mask? Sure the colours don't clash?'

Annie nodded. ‘They go together perfectly and the dress looks great, although it's just as well Alex is tall. With those killer heels on, I'm about six foot tall.'

‘Just make sure you don't trip over. You've got a long way to fall.'

Annie nodded. The same thought had been going through her head. Knowing her tendency to trip over, it was all too likely.

After seeing everybody safely back to the hotel, Annie went home to prepare for the evening. The ball would start with a champagne reception planned for eight o'clock, followed by the ball at around nine. Music at the ball was being provided by an Italian band and also a DJ. Knowing that Italian popular music wasn't to everybody's taste, Annie had already spoken to the DJ and he was primed to play as much international music as possible to offset the possibility of the guests getting fed up with offerings made popular in Italy, but nowhere else, by artists such as Eros Ramazzotti, Mina or Laura Pausini.

Although the invitations to the guests had specified that it would be a masked ball, Daniela had very sensibly ordered a supply of male and female masks for the use of guests who had either forgotten, or misunderstood what they were supposed to wear. A pair of waiters would be on duty at the entrance to the ball room, handing out masks as necessary. Some of these were relatively simple and people wearing them bore a striking resemblance to anti-capitalist protesters. Certainly they weren't nearly as sexy as her feather mask.

After taking a long, hot bath, Annie started to get ready, pinning her hair up in a complex style that took her ages to do. She dug out some earrings and even applied lipstick and eye shadow, something she hadn't done for years. It did occur to her that eye shadow was pretty superfluous to somebody wearing a mask, but it was done by that time. When it came round to the dress and the shoes, she realised she had two big problems. First, she seriously doubted that she would be able to squeeze into the Panda while wearing the long, tight dress, or at least, not without pulling it up to her waist first and risking getting it terribly creased and her bottom frozen. Second, there was no way she would be able to drive in the high heels. There was no alternative; she would have to do like last night and change at the hotel. She put on a pair of jeans and a cardigan, hung the dress carefully in its plastic bag, put the shoes and her mask into a shopping bag and struggled into her ski jacket and gloves.

She carried the bags out to the car and stowed them on the back seat. Then she drove back up to the hotel, parked in the underground car park and took the lift direct to the sixth floor. She glanced at her watch as she walked into Daniela's office. It was half past seven. This time she took the precaution of jamming a chair under the door handle before stripping to her underwear, but it proved to be unnecessary. This time there were no unexpected visitors, welcome or otherwise. After putting on the dress, she stepped into her heels and headed for the ladies' toilet to check her appearance in the mirror. She slipped the peacock-feather mask across her face and secured it with its red ribbons. She studied the overall effect, pretty sure that her mass of light-brown hair would give her identity away to anybody who knew her, but overall fairly satisfied with the result.

‘I'll do.'

She switched off the lights and went down in the lift. When she arrived at the ballroom, she was pleased to be asked her name by one of the waiters, even though he actually knew her quite well. Clearly, the peacock mask was working. She went inside and made a final tour of the room, checking arrangements, talking to the band, and making sure everybody knew what they had to do. By the time she had done a full circuit, guests were already arriving. As they came in, those without masks were given one from the piles on the table and then offered champagne and canapés. Annie was delighted to see that a lot of the guests had entered into the spirit of the thing, particularly the Chinese, many of whom had brought brightly coloured masks, some depicting ferocious, red-faced demons complete with horns, some beautifully painted red, white and black designs, and one even a massive orange dragon complete with scales and horns.

Most of the masks covered all but the wearer's mouth, so making it possible to eat and drink. A few, like the dragon mask, covered the mouth as well, and they were soon pushed up onto the forehead when the canapés and champagne came round. Annie moved from group to group, checking that all was well and everybody happy. She was delighted to hear very positive comments from all sides and hoped that this would result in numerous bookings for the hotel in the months and years to come.

At around half past eight, she caught sight of an unmistakable figure. It could only be Paolina, wearing what looked like a harem costume from some Sultan's palace. The whole ensemble was made of layers of lightweight, translucent, antique silk. In its day, it must have been immensely expensive and it still looked amazing although it was in all probability a hundred years old. The airy leggings were gathered at the ankles by golden ribbons and the top was equally soft and translucent. Matt's word,
diaphanous
, definitely summed it up perfectly.

She was wearing a matching cream-coloured mask in the Venetian style, with swirling patterns across her face and forehead and soft white feathers rising up into the air above it. She looked delightful. Beside her was the slim figure of Paul, wearing a dark suit and a scary-looking, hook-nosed mask in the style of the plague doctor. Annie studied it critically. There were two disadvantages to this type of mask. First, as his mouth was covered, he would find eating and drinking impossible, and second, any chance of dancing close up against Paolina was out of the question. Still, he did look very elegant and mysterious. She went up to them.

‘Ciao, Paolina. You look wonderful.'

‘Annie?' Paolina didn't sound sure. ‘Is that you under there?'

‘Sure is. You're looking fabulous, and you, too, Paul.'

‘So are you, Annie. We've been watching you a few times, wondering who it was in the amazing green dress. You look like a film star.' Paul sounded impressed and this did wonders for Annie's confidence. She left them to enjoy themselves and continued her rounds.

She kept checking for Alex and from time to time spotted a few tall, dark-haired men who could have been him. One, in particular, wearing an intricate gold mask, even approached her and clinked his champagne glass against hers before moving on without a word. He was tall, he had broad shoulders, and his evening suit was quite evidently of the highest quality, so she felt sure it was Alex. Unfortunately, the eye holes of his mask were too small for her to spot his bright blue eyes, but she could clearly see his stubbly chin so she was pretty confident she had him pegged.

At nine o'clock, the lights dimmed and the band struck up. Before long, the dance floor was full of couples and Annie found herself being invited to dance by a variety of men, a remarkable number of them short and dark-haired, wearing oriental masks. She thoroughly enjoyed herself, reflecting that this was the first time she had been to a dance for many years. She had always loved dancing, but Steve hadn't been keen. Now, tonight, she felt liberated and, to her great satisfaction, her new shoes proved not only to be comfortable, but easy to dance in. The only slight downside of the high heels was that her shorter partners were constantly bumping into her boobs with their faces, either accidentally or on purpose. But even that didn't bother her in the general euphoria of the event.

Late in the evening, Annie was resting against a pillar, sipping a glass of water, when the man in the gold mask appeared and took her hand. He didn't say a word, probably because the volume of the music was such that conversation was impossible, but she didn't mind. She felt sure she knew who it was. He removed the glass from her unresisting hand and led her onto the dance floor where they danced to a number of tunes. He was a very good dancer and Annie had a whale of a time.

By this time, the band had stopped for a well-earned rest and the DJ had taken over. True to his promise, he was playing a series of classic international hits and the dance floor was crowded. Then, as she heard the wonderful slow introduction to ‘Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay' by Otis Redding, she felt his strong arms reach up and catch hold of her shoulders, drawing her towards him. She nestled happily against him, feeling his warmth and smelling his scent, their bodies fitting comfortably against each other. She relaxed and enjoyed that dance more than she had enjoyed anything for many years, since the early days with Steve. Resting in his arms just felt so very right, somehow. She was almost purring.