‘Clo! You’re back!’ Johnny couldn’t keep the relief from his voice as he twisted on the sofa to look back at her. She smiled from the snug doorway, surprised to find him watching a rugby match with Ari and Kit.
‘Hey.’ She had spent five days in Geneva in the end. It had felt so good to escape, she hadn’t wanted ever to come back. There had been such a happy simplicity to being with her family – reverting to type, as Kit would have said: taking Elliot to the park, walking Bella in the pram . . . She and Charlie had baked mince pies and finished a bottle of red as they watched their from-scratch gingerbread house gently sag and collapse (too much golden syrup). She had sat at the kitchen table, making paper chains with Tom and Elliot, chatting about everything and nothing. She had surprised Elliot with a miniature Christmas tree for his bedroom, such had been his excitement about decorating the main one, and she had got him to teach her how to make pom-pom decorations and paper snowflakes. She had completely switched off, refusing to think about the film, or her flat, or the Cannes deadline, or how she was going to keep her promise to Mia, or whether Kit Foley was an early worm. That especially. She had spent a lot of time refusing to think about him.
If it had been left to her, she would still be in Geneva; but Kit and Ari were scheduled to leave for St Moritz tomorrow and she knew she had to see this last bit through, even if her film was asking a question it couldn’t answer. If nothing else, she couldn’t leave Johnny to deal with Matty’s packing. ‘Have I missed much?’
‘Not really,’ Ari shrugged. ‘Kit’s just been training, training, training. We’ve been on the pipe, on the trampos. And watching the rugby every night.’ He grinned. ‘Making the most of having no women about the place!’
‘Oh? Where is Mats?’ She hadn’t been in the bedroom just now.
‘She’s been doing some work in town,’ Johnny said quickly, scrambling to his feet. ‘D’you need a hand with your bags?’
She went to tell him she’d only taken a rucksack but something in his demeanour made her nod instead. ‘Yeah, thanks.’ Her gaze tangled with Kit’s as she went to turn away; he’d not said a word.
‘What is it?’ she whispered to Johnny as he hustled her towards the stairs.
‘Not here.’
They went down to her room and he shut the door carefully. ‘Mats got hold of Amy,’ he whispered.
Clover’s eyes widened. ‘And . . .?’
‘“She’s no lady” were her exact words. Amy has quite a lot of anger, shall we say, that their engagement has been revealed. It’s fair to say things between her and Kit didn’t end well. She never wants to see him again.’
‘Well, did she say why they split?’
‘Matty couldn’t get that far. It was a stream of expletives, threats about calling in lawyers and then she hung up. Mat’s been trying every day since but . . .’ He shrugged.
‘. . . Why would she call in her lawyers?’ Clover frowned. ‘It’s not a crime to know, or make public, the fact that they were engaged!’
He shrugged again.
‘And why didn’t Matty tell me she’d got hold of her? Or you?’
‘We wanted to, but it’s not like she’s given us anything but an earful so far. We thought it was better to let you . . . rest. You’ve been stretched too thin lately. What with the stress of dealing with Kit, getting punched in the face, the news about Mikey, then almost skiing off the side of the mountain . . .! No wonder you needed the peace and quiet of the city.’
Clover sighed, squeezing his arm gratefully. She still flinched every time she heard Mikey’s name; his death had been widely carried in the news. ‘So where is she now?’
‘Well, that’s the other thing. Her and Julian . . .’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘It’s officially on.’
‘Oh.’ Clover’s shoulders slumped.
‘Yeah. He followed up the flowers with more flowers, then dinner, and . . . she’s scarcely been back since.’
‘What? So you’ve been up here every night on your own? With them?’ She jerked her chin towards the ceiling.
‘I know! How brave am I?’ He flexed a bicep. ‘. . . They’ve actually been decent; let me continue filming, no probs . . . We’ve had a laugh.’ He winked. ‘It’s amazing how nice Kit is when you’re not around.’
‘Thanks!’ she chuckled. ‘I told you it was personal.’
‘Oh it’s personal all right. I think he actually likes fighting with you.’ He looked back at her. ‘You should have seen his face when Matty told us at breakfast that you’d gone to see your brother for a few days! He was stunned. Like it hadn’t occurred to him that you actually could act of your own free will.’
‘Yeah. I’ll bet he was gutted.’
‘He has been pretty flat, actually. Beau’s extended his stay in Saas-Fee; he’s meeting us now in St Moritz.’
‘Really?’ she asked interestedly. ‘. . . It definitely sounds like he’s finding his wings.’
‘Yeah, I agree.’
She sank onto her bed and fell back, her arms outstretched. ‘So, are you all set for leaving tomorrow?’ she asked. ‘It’s gone by quite quickly, don’t you think?’
‘I’m certainly going to miss that view; and the gym. And Fin’s cooking. And Carlotta’s creepy instinct for appearing around corners unannounced.’
‘Yeah. We’ve been spoilt . . . How did Kit look in training? Do you think he’s ready?’
‘Physically, yes.’ He tapped his head. ‘But I think the news about Mikey has definitely got to him. The vibe’s been different up there this week. I don’t think he’s looking forward to tonight. There’ll be a load of press there.’
‘Where?’
‘At the casino.’ Johnny saw her blank expression. ‘You don’t know? I thought that’s why you came back in time. There’s a big charity fundraiser being held at the casino in town. Julian’s a sponsor, natch. He’s making Kit go.’
‘Well of course he is.’ She rolled her eyes. Where Kit went, she had to follow. Back five minutes and she was straight back into it. ‘You know, talking of Julian, you should have heard the things my brother was telling me about his family’s business . . . Things really aren’t as rosy as Mats might like to believe.’
‘No?’
‘They’re being eyed up for a hostile takeover, apparently. Julian’s under pressure to start making a success of his side of things because absolutely nothing else is going right for them.’
‘Mats won’t be happy. She’s bought into the whole Prince Charming thing.’
‘Well, he is still that, I guess, just possibly with a smaller dowry,’ she sighed. ‘So what time is kick-off?’
‘Eight.’
‘Eight?’ It was gone six now!
‘And the dress code is black tie,’ Johnny added casually.
‘But you don’t even have a collared shirt!’
‘I can wear Beau’s DJ, apparently. We’re about the same size.’
‘But I didn’t pack for black tie in the mountains!’
‘Chill, Cinderella.’ Johnny walked over to the wardrobe and opened it with a flourish. Clover stared at Matty’s jewel-like clothes. ‘For you shall go to the ball!’
Yellow silk. Red suede heels. Clover stared at the combination draped over her bed. It worked – but what had ever made Matty think these clothes would be needed on this trip? Clover supposed she should be grateful that such exigencies existed in her friend’s world.
Matty – already at the hotel with Julian – was meeting them at the casino.
Clover opened her door and called across the hall. ‘Johnny, can you zip me in please?’
‘Just a sec,’ he called back through his door. ‘It’s a fight to the death between my cuff and a cufflink over here!’
She ducked back into her room and put in her earrings and stepped into the heels, slipping the heel strap on with her finger as she heard him come in.
‘Thanks Johnny.’ She straightened up and held her hair up, out of the way. She waited. ‘. . . Well go on. You’ve seen a woman’s bare back before. Zip me up.’
There was a pause, then she felt him run the zip up slowly, pulling the dress in to her body. ‘Thanks.’ She wiggled a little, getting the dress to settle. She turned.
Kit looked back at her as she let her hair fall. ‘Oh.’
In her heels, she was only a couple of inches shorter than him. ‘I just came to check you were okay.’
‘. . . Me?’
‘After the other day, I mean. When you left the next morning, I thought . . .’ His words ran out and he shrugged.
What? What did he think? She could never tell. She could peel back one layer, only to find a hundred more. Who lay at the heart of him? ‘I’m fine. I just needed to get away for a bit. Things were . . .’ It was her turn to run out of words.
‘I know.’
She couldn’t understand why he was down here. He’d never checked on her after the fight, when she’d had far worse injuries. He’d got her off that ledge without so much as a split nail – so why check on her now? ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
He looked surprised by the question, as though it wasn’t something he’d ever been asked. He flinched, a defensive reaction. ‘Of course.’
‘Of course, because you’re invincible? It’s not every day you almost go over a cliff. You’re allowed to feel shaken up, you know.’
He stared back at her, looked away. He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. He was wearing a dinner suit she didn’t remember seeing in the wardrobe. ‘. . . I’m more shaken by the fact that I didn’t push you off while I had the chance. What the hell was I thinking?’ he muttered, before giving a brief, dark smile.
She watched him stare at his shoes. He looked as uncomfortable as Ari about to be interviewed.
‘Well, my brother was very grateful you saved my life. He says I owe you a drink.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Don’t worry,’ she added quickly. ‘I set him straight on that score.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That hell will freeze over before you’d accept anything from me.’ She swallowed. ‘But still . . . thank you.’
He stared back at her and for a moment, she remembered being on the ledge with him, his body a windbreak, saving her all over again. She tried to gauge the setting between them. Where did they stand now? In the hours before she’d almost skied off the mountain, he had thrown her interview – and secrets – back in her face. She had hated him more then than ever. Now she no longer knew what to feel about anything when it came to him.
He stuffed a hand into his trouser pocket. ‘So are you coming tonight?’
Her eyebrow arched. Couldn’t he tell? She was standing before him in heels and a column of yellow silk. ‘Well, I don’t usually wear a gown for a TV supper, so . . .’
‘Right. Yeah. I mean, you look—’
‘Right Phillips, breathe in . . .’ Johnny appeared over Kit’s shoulder. ‘Oh!’
Kit half-turned. A small silence bloomed. The room felt airless and Clover felt strangely awkward, as though she and Kit had been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Something other than talking.
‘Sorry Johnny, Kit helped instead,’ she said with a weak smile.
‘I was just leaving anyway,’ Kit said quickly, stepping past Johnny and patting him on the shoulder. He couldn’t get away fast enough.
Johnny turned back to her, looking astonished by the rapid exit. ‘Was it something I said?’
She listened frustratedly to the sound of Kit’s footsteps on the stairs. How did she look?