Three months later
Laura could hear nothing, not the blare of the tannoys and horns two thousand metres below, nor the distant scream of a golden eagle circling above the next peak. But she could see everything. Up here she could see Italy in one direction, France in another, and above her – so close she felt she could touch it – heaven.
She dropped her backpack on to the snow and rested for a moment, bending forward with her hands on her thighs, her breath coming fast and strong. It had taken an hour to walk up this mountain with her kit on her back, and getting back down again wasn’t going to be any less exhausting. Fifty metres away, she could see the tip of the red triangular gates that told her she’d made it, but that wasn’t her destination. Not yet.
Opening the bag, she pulled out the small Elizabethan walnut box that had sat for nearly five years over her bedroom fireplace. She ran her fingers over the silver oval plaque. Lily.
‘So . . .’ she murmured. ‘This is where we say our goodbye, at last . . .’ Her voice faltered and she put a hand to her mouth to stop her lips from trembling. ‘I thought you’d like it here. It’s about the only place I could think of that was as pure and beautiful as you.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Also I think this counts as “sweeping the sky”, don’t you? Mum told us to do that, do you remember? “Brush the floor and sweep the sky.” So that’s what this is . . .’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m terrified, if I’m honest. I don’t mean about how I’m going to get down this mountain again, although I am pretty scared of that too. I mean of going on without you. You were always my mirror – one of those flattering ones that made me feel better about myself. I’ve managed to put it off for quite a few years now, but . . . I just never wanted this day to come.’
She inhaled sharply, sniffing back the tears.
‘I hope you’re looking after Mum, by the way. Tell her I miss her every day, like I do you, and tell her I’m going to make her proud again. I’m going to live like she wanted us to, only now I’m going to do it for you too.’ She crossed her fingers and held them up to the sky. ‘So wish me luck. And w-wish me love.’
A sob escaped her, in spite of her best efforts, and the world that was plated out in front of her blurred out of sight. She closed her eyes and the sun found her like a spotlight, drenching her with a gentle warmth that seemed to sink right through to her bones. Her fingers slid back the lid of the box and a thermal current swooped down, lifting Lily high into the sky where she could fly with the eagles. Within a moment, she was gone.
Laura watched through freezing tears, wanting to follow, wanting to bring her back. But she knew she’d spent too long chasing ghosts. Finally, picking up her backpack, she walked the last fifty metres to the red gate, nodding as the steward relayed her vest number to the finishing post. She clicked on her skis, fastened her helmet, adjusted the strap of her goggles and looked down the vertiginous drop.
‘This is for you, Lily,’ she whispered. And balling all her fear into love, she pushed off, determined to set the snow on fire.
Laura could hear nothing above the blare of the tannoys and horns, and the screams of the crowd circling as she swept through the finish gate. Hers wasn’t the fastest time; hers wasn’t the cleanest line – far from it: she’d wanted to get down in one piece after almost wiping out on one cliff jump – but as one of the five wild cards in the event, not to mention a woman, she was the underdog they were cheering for. Verbier erupted as she screamed to a stop, spraying the spectators with snow, and an overexcited presenter in an orange unitard and jester’s hat raced over to her.
‘Laura Cunningham, from Great Britain, your first freeride on the tour! How did that feel?’ he shouted, waving a mic dementedly in her face.
Laura pulled off her goggles, laughing and half crying as she looked back up the intimidating mountain she’d just jumped off. ‘Exhilarating! Absolutely unbelievable. I can’t . . . I can’t believe I did it!’
A cheer erupted as she wiped away the tears of joy.
‘Two falls and a safe line kept you off the podium today. Can we expect to see you in Chamonix on the tour next year?’
‘God, no! That was enough for me. It took all my skill and courage to get down there. These guys competing here are incredible – a whole other level.’
‘No! You can’t be serious?’
‘Oh, I am . . . Once is enough, and “enough is as good as a feast”, as my mother always used to say. I’ll remember this for ever.’
‘What made you do it?’
Laura bit her lip and gave a small smile. ‘It was kind of a dare.’
‘You jumped off the legendary Bec des Rosses for a dare?’ the presenter repeated for the benefit of the crowd, whipping them into a frenzy. If there was one thing this extreme-sports crowd loved, it was extreme behaviour. ‘Well, Laura, I hope you change your mind before the next stop on the WFT, because we want to see you again!’
Laura laughed, waving her poles deliriously, and the crowd cheered as she skied over to the competitors’ area. She had promised Jack and Fee she’d ring as soon as she was down. One of the French guys slapped her on the shoulder as she collapsed on to the bench to unbuckle her boots. ‘Great ride!’
‘I cannot believe you did that,’ a voice said behind her as she took off her helmet and dropped her head in her hands. ‘You weren’t supposed to actually do it . . .’
Laura froze.
‘If I’d known you were this reckless, I’d have given you a Laura Ashley voucher instead,’ Rob said, throwing one leg over the bench and straddling it beside her.
She looked up, the sight of him making her heart beat even faster than the Alpine drop. Really nobody should be that handsome. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? I’m watching you.’
‘How did you know I was h— Oh.’ She gave an embarrassed smile. Of course he wasn’t out here because of her. They were staying at the chalet.
But he lifted her chin with his finger, turning her to face him. ‘Jack and Fee told me.’ His eyes danced over her skin, making her shiver.
‘You went to my house?’ she croaked.
‘They were very welcoming. And helpful. They explained a lot. Clearly you weren’t going to – at least not about your own life. Mine, on the other hand . . .’ He gave a rueful laugh.
‘I’m so sorry, Rob.’
He looked down momentarily. ‘Don’t be. You simply helped make a decision that had previously seemed impossible actually very easy indeed. I knew that everything was built on lies; I just hadn’t appreciated the full extent.’
Laura could see the toll the past few months had taken on him. His eyes looked tired and reddened, and he was pale, although he hadn’t shaved, which she always thought was an improvement. ‘The affair with Alex starting up after Ben, for example.’
Laura swallowed. ‘Did you understand about your charm?’ she asked cautiously. What if he’d missed her inference?
‘You mean a cuckoo’s egg in my nest? Yes, I got it, although not immediately. It was only later, when we were going to bed and the pills fell out of her dress, that I realized what she was doing,’ he nodded. ‘But why didn’t you tell me directly?’
‘I didn’t know if you wanted to hear it. You had so much hope. If you could accept the affair, maybe you could accept that . . .’ She shrugged. ‘And besides, Cat threatened to tell everyone we were . . . you know.’
‘Sleeping together?’ Just hearing the words come from his lips made her blush, and his eyes held hers so that all she could do was nod. His hand found hers and he smiled. ‘How can you be trembling, sitting here with me, when you’ve just bombed down that mountain?’
‘This is much more scary,’ she mumbled.
‘For you, maybe. You didn’t have to stand by and watch you jump cliffs on a one-one gradient. Have you got any idea what you did to me?’
‘Taught you not to set me dares?’
‘Can’t you be trusted, then?’ She saw the excitement flicker in his eyes.
‘I’ve never turned one down yet.’
He stared at her, his eyes searching hers. ‘And now I know why. It was your mother who told you never to shy away from trying new experiences.’ He leaned back to reach into his trouser pocket and pulled out a silver charm bracelet, tarnished with age. He saw the emotion rise in her face as she saw it out here.
‘Fee gave it to me to bring to you – she said the matching bracelets were your mother’s final gifts to you and Lily. She said that after Lily died, you wouldn’t wear yours.’
‘I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t bear being reminded of what I wasn’t.’ She shook her head quickly. ‘It made my life too big. It was what Mum wanted for us – she was such a free spirit. But after I lost Lily too, I couldn’t bear to feel so much any more. My heart couldn’t take it.’
He raised a hand and gently stroked her cheek. She let herself tilt into him.
‘Fee showed me the letter. She’s talked me through it,’ he murmured, examining the bracelet. He held up a charm of a silver book. ‘I know, for example, that this represents Roald Dahl. Your mother wanted you to read all his books. She said his was the only imagination that could actually match a child’s capacity to create and dream.’
Laura blinked at him.
‘This spanner was to tell you to learn how to change a wheel, the rolling pin for you to learn how to make a basic shortcrust pastry – both essential life skills. She wanted you to be capable and independent.’ He moved the bracelet round on his palm. Laura’s eyes watched every charm as closely as a mother guarding her young. ‘This halo – she wanted you to see the aurora borealis. She said it was the closest you’d ever get to seeing heaven from earth.’ He looked at her. ‘Have you?’
She shook her head.
‘Then I’ll take you. We’ll see it together.’ He looked back at the charm, deliberately ignoring her surprise. ‘This rabbit signified that you should have pets – your mother thought it was a way for children to express love, especially those children who’d experienced loss.’
‘She was right,’ Laura murmured.
‘This flag was to encourage you to learn a language, so that you could make your way in the world. The Aga was for you to make a home . . . and this matchstick denotes the story of the little match girl and the freedom to live – or die – on your terms.’
He turned the bracelet round again as he continued his tour of the bracelet – her life.
‘The balloon and the starfish she had a saying for: “Brush the floor and sweep the sky.” I’m guessing that’s what the balloon safari and gap-year diving project were all about?’
‘Mum wanted us to go to the very tops and bottoms of the world. She thought we’d feel most alive at the extremes of human experience. Lily and I did one of them every year.’
‘Like paragliding?’
Laura nodded.
Rob stared at her. ‘You mother sounds an amazing woman.’
‘She was,’ Laura said, nodding, her eyes instantly filling with tears again – she had put her emotions on the line too many times today – when suddenly she felt Rob’s kisses falling like rain on her eyelids, her temples, her jaw, her nose, her mouth . . . He pulled away, but only enough to look at her as though checking she was real. His hands stroked her cheeks, and she felt his love colour her up, making her heart swell and her soul relax.
‘Found you,’ he whispered, looking at her with keen intensity. ‘To anyone else, this bracelet is a hieroglyph, but it tells me everything I wanted to know about you. Thanks to your mother, I’ve got the guidebook on Laura Cunningham.’ He shook the bracelet lightly so that it jingled in his hand. ‘There’s just one thing missing.’
Laura looked up at him. ‘What?’
He pulled something from his other pocket and placed it flat in his palm. It was a tiny red enamelled shoe. Carefully he attached it to a link on the bracelet. ‘I asked Fee about the red shoe thing – she told me it’s what you were doing together the day Lily died.’
Laura was silent for a moment. ‘She was going to a party. She wanted a pair so badly to go with her dress. I’ve never been able to look at a pair since without thinking of her. It was the last time we ever laughed together.’
He smoothed her hair, cupping her cheek with his hand. ‘So, then – this is to signify remembrance.’ This time, as the tears fell, he slid her along the bench into him, kissing her hair and enclosing his arms around her until she could look at him again.
He fastened the bracelet on her wrist – a mother’s hopes and dreams cast in silver to be un-erasable, and her daughters’ for ever. ‘Laura Cunningham,’ Rob murmured. ‘Beloved daughter, devoted sister . . . nymphomaniac girlfriend,’ he grinned.
‘You wish!’ she laughed as he caught her in his arms, kissing her again and again and again.
‘Oh really?’ His copper eyes bored into hers, devilry dancing in them. ‘Is that a bet?’