‘I reckon this low-pressure system is coming in quicker than they’ve predicted.’ Terry jabbed a finger at the weather forecast pinned to the noticeboard in the inn. ‘I think we’ll start getting snow overnight.’
‘We’d better put together a shovel squad for first thing in the morning, then,’ Vanessa replied. Many on the ski-school staff thought Terry was a frustrated meteorologist, but more often than not he was right.
‘Anyone you know need a kick in the pants?’ Terry asked.
Vanessa shook her head.
‘I can’t think of anyone in particular,’ said Johan, ‘but I just walked through the pub and a group of lifties have been in there for a while. They don’t look like they’re slowing down anytime soon either.’
Terry gleefully rubbed his hands together. ‘Then I’ll go down and give them the good news. They can look forward to being the first out of bed in the morning.’
‘Excuse me, Vanessa,’ someone said from behind them.
It was one of the young women who worked behind the reception desk. Vanessa had spoken to her a few times earlier in the season but now she searched her mind for a name—but it remained just out of reach. ‘Hi,’ she said with a smile.
‘That was lucky. I thought I was going to have to go over to Long Bay to get you.’
Vanessa frowned. ‘Is anything the matter?’
‘I don’t think so. Mrs Gordon just asked to see you. She’s downstairs in Mr Gordon’s office.’
Vanessa raised her eyebrows and looked at Terry.
‘Do you know where the office is?’ the woman asked.
‘Yes, I do,’ Vanessa said. ‘Thank you for telling me.’
‘What’s all that about?’ asked Terry when the woman was out of earshot.
‘I have no idea. Only one way to find out, though.’ Vanessa sat on the bench and pulled off her ski boots. ‘Can you save me some dinner please, Johan? I’m starving.’ Long Bay’s first-in-best-dressed policy left those who were late at a disadvantage.
‘Sure. I’ll put a plate in the oven for you.’
The Gordons’ personal suite of rooms was tucked away in an isolated corner of the inn, rarely frequented by employees. The noise from the common areas faded as the dimly lit hallway stretched ahead of her. Vanessa approached the door tentatively, her socked feet silent on the plush pile carpet.
Di’s angry voice filtered towards her through the door that was ajar. Vanessa hesitated, unsure whether to go back or to knock and make her presence known.
‘This is the last time you’ll work down here,’ Di hissed. ‘As soon as your gig is over, pack up your gear and get the hell out.’
Vanessa froze, her heart beginning to pound. Was she next in line to be laid off?
‘It was a stupid thing to do, telling them what we did back then.’ Di was almost shouting now. ‘Why would you do that? We were only young. It’s over fifty years ago, for fuck’s sake.’
Stomach churning, Vanessa retreated a few steps. She wasn’t supposed to hear this. Better that she leave now and come back.
She turned around and came face to face with Henry Gordon. She gasped, a hand flying to her mouth, her skin crawling at his close proximity. ‘I … I got a message that Di wanted to see me,’ she stammered, taking a step back. ‘But she has someone else in with her. I’m happy to come back later.’ She went to brush past him, but he stepped in her way.
‘No need to come back. All we wanted to do was to remind you of your priorities.’
Vanessa hesitated. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Your priorities regarding your work. You’re employed by the village as a ski patroller and, as we own the lease, that’s us. It’s come to our notice that you’ve been spending a lot of time with the police.’
An indignant heat warmed Vanessa’s face. She took a deep breath. ‘I have never neglected my duties as a patroller. Everything I’ve done has been at the direction of the mountain manager, or has been in response to a direct request from the police. I can’t refuse to cooperate with them.’
That wasn’t entirely true. She’d followed Detective Ryder into the inn so she could tell him about the tree well. And she’d offered to write down the names of the long-term residents at Charlotte Pass. Any number of people could have seen her passing the note to Detective Flowers the night of the flare run. The floodlights had lit up the hill like daytime.
‘Well,’ Henry said, ‘as long as you remember who’s paying your wages.’
Vanessa nodded. Like she’d forget. ‘Of course.’
He stepped aside, allowing her to make her escape, and though she didn’t look back she had the uneasy feeling he was still watching her when she reached the end of the corridor.
Relieved to be back in the communal part of the inn, Vanessa yanked her boots on and stepped out into the darkness. Her unexpected meeting with Henry Gordon had left her more chilled than the freezing night air. With snow crunching underfoot, she looked left and right, blinking at the blackness, searching out the shadows that could be Bruno lying in wait. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before the distinctive sound of water trickling over rocks told her she had reached the bridge.
Safely on the other side, she pulled her jacket more tightly around her and hurried towards the faint glow at the top of the stairs.