What Happens in the Alps... (27 page)

‘Ciao, Annie. How good to see you.' She looked as if she meant it.

‘I thought I'd come and see how you're doing and tell you about how things are going up at Montalto.'

‘Oh, please do. I've been lying here worried sick.'

Annie told her all about it and how delighted she had been to find everything so well organised. By the time she finished, Daniela was looking relieved and very happy.

‘That's so good to hear. Thank you, Annie, for coming to tell me that.'

‘I wanted to put your mind at rest. You've done a great job and I just hope I'll be up to the task of seeing it all through.'

‘I'm sure you will. Don't you worry about that. When Alex was here last night he said he had every faith in you. And you will come back and tell me how it all went, won't you?'

As Annie walked back down the stairs and out into the freezing evening air, she kept turning over in her head what Daniela had said about Alex. So, if he had been in the previous night, why had he denied knowing about her state of health? Maybe it had just been a flying visit, but even so, the one question you always ask when you visit someone in hospital is, how are you doing? She was still going over the matter in her mind as she walked down to the school. She stopped off for coffee in the bar and chatted briefly to Signora Toniolo. Now that the skiing season was in full swing, the place was crowded out and very noisy. She spotted Beppe going past with a tray of pizzas and gave him a wave. Things were looking good for them and she sincerely hoped the same could be said about the Santorso English Academy. She swallowed her espresso and went across the road to check that all was well.

‘Ciao, Annie.' Paolina was wearing a lurid green T-shirt with
Hard Rock Café New Delhi
written on it. Beneath that, long sleeves in a leopard pattern protruded. She looked like something from the
Jungle Book
.

‘Ciao, Paolina, how's it going?'

‘Everything's fine. Everybody seems happy.'

Annie gave a sigh of relief. ‘That's marvellous. I've been up at the hotel all afternoon and I've been worrying.'

‘Well, don't. A couple of people came in to enquire this afternoon and Matt dealt with them. They've both signed up for your Thursday morning conversation class.'

Annie went across to Matt's door, tapped on it and went in. She found him on the floor, doing press-ups. He glanced up at her and finished the set. ‘27, 28, 29, 30. Thank God that's over.' He got to his feet and rested against his desk. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans and he was sweating. Annie raised an eyebrow and he explained. ‘I have to keep moving in this job. If I sit at the computer for too long, I'll develop AA.' Seeing her incomprehension, he grinned. ‘Author's ass. The Americans invented it, but it's very catching.'

Annie's eyes had been on that part of his anatomy when he was finishing his press-ups and he definitely had nothing to worry about on that score. She gave him a grin in return. ‘All I can say is that your exercise regime seems to be working. Anyway, I just came in to say thanks for fielding those two people this afternoon. Paolina says you talked them into signing up.'

‘All in a day's work. As I've told you many times, Annie, anything for you, gorgeous.'

‘Well, it's really good of you. I'll buy you dinner one of these days to say thank you properly, but it'll have to be next week now as it's all hands to the pump up at Montalto at the moment.'

She told him all about the preparations for the agents' weekend and then she asked him when he was going down to Turin to see the film people.

‘Thursday afternoon or evening. They want me there for a nine o'clock meeting on Friday.'

‘Good luck. When are you coming back?'

‘God knows. If they want me to stay down there till next week I'll do it. I'd give my eye teeth to get into that side of the business, not just translating promotional stuff.'

‘Well, you drive safely and good luck again.' For good luck she went over to him and gave him a hug, before leaving him to his labours.

Chapter 22

Over the next two days, Annie spent most of her time up at the hotel. Although she saw Alex a few times and chatted to him briefly, she had decided not to mention Daniela for now. That could wait. The time to air these matters would come, once the agents' weekend had finished. In the meantime, she insisted upon interviewing every single member of staff to be absolutely sure that they knew what was expected of them. The guests would start to arrive from lunchtime on Friday onwards and she wanted everything to be perfect for them all the way through to Saturday's masked ball.

One of Annie's good friends lived in Venice, famous the world over for its carnival, and she had sent Annie a delightful mask, decorated with peacock feathers. This was designed to cover the top half of her face and the colours matched the frighteningly expensive slinky long dress Annie had bought on her shopping spree with Janet. With her new high heels, she felt confident she would look the part. As for the masked ball itself, she had little doubt that Alex would look immaculate and that, whatever mask he chose, she would be easily able to recognise him. What her mask didn't do was hide her mass of light-brown hair and she had little doubt that most people would recognise her without too much trouble. But it was the principle that counted.

The first of a steady stream of guests started to arrive at the Hotel Montalto soon after lunch on Friday. Daniela had laid on a shuttle service from the station in Santorso and Annie was delighted to see it operating smoothly. She was on duty in the lobby, a clipboard of names in her hand, meeting and greeting the new arrivals, with Alex very much in evidence. He spent the afternoon shaking hands, kissing cheeks and generally looking and sounding charming. He and Annie barely had a few seconds to smile at each other from time to time, but it was good to know that he was close by.

Among the visitors, there were agents from as far away as Moscow, Beijing, Tokyo and New York, although the majority were from the UK and elsewhere in Europe. Annie soon realised that she would be using much more English than Italian that weekend. She handed out programmes to them all as they arrived and then a team of porters accompanied the guests to their rooms. By the time it started to get dark, most of the tour operators had arrived and the social programme was under way.

Just before six o'clock, those interested in skiing assembled in the lobby and Alex, along with a team of ski instructors, among whom Annie spotted Paul, led them out for the torchlit ski event. This, she knew, would start with a glass of grappa or Genepy, the local liqueur, up at the middle station restaurant to warm them up. Then they would ski down behind Alex, holding burning torches to light their way. She knew from experience that these torches had a nasty habit of dripping burning wax and she hoped everybody would take care. A photographer would be skiing along with them to record the event for a promotional video that subsequently would be sent out to agents all over the world. When they got back to the hotel, there would be mulled wine waiting for them so, by the time the skiers sat down to the regional speciality dinner at eight-thirty, they should be well lubricated. It was Annie's job to ensure that the less adventurous managed to achieve a similar state of inebriation in time for the meal so that the evening would go with a bang.

The next two hours were chaotic for Annie. Few of the guests stayed in their rooms. Some chose to use the pool, a handful preferred working out in the gym, while others headed straight for the cocktail lounge. Even Leo the Labrador did his bit as well. Annie saw him wandering round the lobby, tail wagging lazily, stopping from time to time to accept a pat on the back here, a tummy rub there. Stella, the lifeguard, was on duty in the pool. She was young, fit and shapely. As the word spread, a good number of male tour operators appeared in the pool area with their cameras, if not their swimming things. Annie turned a blind eye. What counted was that they went home happy. If a few photos of a pretty girl in a swimsuit helped to sell tourists on the notion of a holiday at Montalto, so be it.

At seven-thirty the skiers returned and hot wine was served in the lobby. As the red-cheeked guests drifted off after eight to change for dinner, Annie went upstairs to do the same. As she didn't have a room here, Massimo had told her she could use Daniela's office on the sixth floor, and she had left a smart dress and shoes up there, ready for the dinner. She took the lift up and went through the door marked
Direzione
. She closed the door behind her, rather wishing she had a key to lock it, and took the dress out of the cupboard where it had been hanging. She stepped out of her shoes and jeans, then pulled her top off and dropped the clothes on the desk, while she reached for the dress. She was still unzipping it, ready to put it on when, to her horror, the door handle turned. As the door swung open she uttered a stifled scream, cowering back, desperately reaching for the dress to cover her nakedness, pulling it across her body as much as she could, and not very successfully.

‘I'm very sorry.'

It was Alex and he didn't look in the least bit sorry; slightly surprised, but not sorry. In fact, there was no missing the delight on his face as he surveyed her in her underwear. Annie felt a rush of relief that did nothing to cool her blushing cheeks. Still clutching the dress to herself, she looked up at him and did her unconvincing best to sound unmoved.

‘Hello, Alex. I was just changing.'

‘I can see that. Here, let me help you.' He took two steps across the office towards her and held out his hands. Slowly, she uncurled herself and held out her hands to take his, dropping the dress onto the desk beside her. His eyes ran down across her body and he drew her towards him, leaning forward to kiss her, his hands releasing hers and running down her naked back. She was just collapsing into his arms when there was a movement behind her and she heard another man's voice.

‘I'm sorry. I hope I'm not interrupting anything.'

It was Massimo and he sounded highly amused. Annie squealed and made a dive for her dress again, throwing it up in the air and desperately pulling it down over her head and across her body until she was covered. Only then did she dare to look up and catch the eyes of the two men. Both were smiling broadly and Massimo's shoulders were shaking with barely controlled mirth. Annie straightened up and took a deep breath.

‘If one of you two can stop laughing long enough to zip me up, I'd be very grateful.' She turned her back towards Alex while he did as requested. In front of her, Massimo pretended to warm his hands against her cheeks.

‘Annie, if I'd known your intentions, I'd have given you a room with a bed.'

‘I was just changing, Massimo.' Annie felt like a naughty schoolgirl in the headmistress's study. ‘I wasn't expecting so many people to come marching in here.' She glanced at Alex. ‘Besides, we haven't got time for fooling around. We've got one hundred and thirty travel agents downstairs expecting the best meal they've had in ages.'

Alex smiled back at her. ‘You're quite right. I'm afraid I very nearly gave in to temptation. Massimo, it's just as well you came in when you did or we might have missed the meal completely.' Then, as Massimo went on through to his own office, Alex lowered his head and his voice. ‘We just can't seem to catch a break, can we?'

The meal was a great success. The chefs had been instructed to produce as many traditional mountain dishes as possible and Annie was delighted to see that they had done wonderfully well. After a seemingly never-ending succession of antipasti, followed by different pasta dishes, with sauces ranging from local wild boar to porcini mushrooms and truffles, the main course was a traditional mountain stew of goat and venison, accompanied by hot polenta with Fontina and Gorgonzola. The various courses were accompanied by a selection of local wines, including wine from the highest vineyard in Europe.

At the end of the meal, there was the sound of a knife tapping on a glass and Alex stood up to say a few words. Partly in Italian, partly in English, with a few token sentences in French, Chinese and Russian as well, he thanked everybody for coming, and wished them an enjoyable weekend. He finished with a reminder that he would be leading a tour of the whole ski domain of Montalto next morning at nine-thirty and bade them goodnight.

As the guests began to drift off to bed or to the bar, Annie went back upstairs to collect her things. She pulled her jeans on under her dress, changed into her outdoor shoes, picked up her thick, duck-down jacket and handbag, and left the office. As she turned out the light, she found herself rather wishing Alex might appear so that they could continue where they had been forced to leave off by the arrival of Massimo. She felt pleasantly tired after her busy day and all that food, and the idea of curling up in Alex's arms had definite appeal. This time, however, there was no sign of him, so she took the lift down to the underground garage and got into her car.

Back home at the chalet, she made herself a cup of herbal tea and stood for a few minutes at the window, looking down at the town below and thinking about tomorrow. The masked ball promised to be exciting and she couldn't wait to dance close up with Alex. She also wondered, yet again, what Paolina would look like in her diaphanous dress. Somehow she had the feeling the cameras would be out again tomorrow night.

Chapter 23

Annie set the alarm for six-thirty as she had a lot to do that Saturday. She showered and dressed, grabbed a cup of tea and a handful of biscuits and then went back into the bedroom. Opening the cupboard, she checked her lovely new long dress and shoes, muttering a silent prayer that she would be able to dance in them without toppling over. Her peacock-feather mask was lying on the dresser. It was a real work of art, handcrafted out of papier-mâché, in exactly the same way these masks had been made for centuries. On closer investigation a few days earlier she had worked out that the feathers were imitation peacock, and she was glad about that. There surely weren't too many peacocks around and it seemed so cruel to pull out their feathers, if that was what they did. She held it up to her face and wondered if anybody was likely to be fooled by it. Her hair was fully visible, as was her mouth. Only her eyes, nose and cheeks were concealed. Anyway, she thought to herself, it didn't matter who recognised her. Or, at least, as long as one particular man recognised her, she would be very happy.