‘Your husband named him,’ Patrick said. ‘Don’t let him name your first born, okay?’
Noah rolled his eyes. ‘Alice, meet my dad Patrick, and my mum Sonja.’
‘Hello,’ she replied. ‘I brought some mince pies over that my mum made back in England. I wondered if anyone would like one?’
This was met with high approval, so Alice moved to the kitchen to heat a plate of them up in the microwave. Marco went with her and put on the kettle.
‘So these are traditional British mince pies, huh?’ he asked, pouring out seven mugs of steaming teas and coffees.
‘Sure are. You want one?’ Alice replied.
‘Definitely, please.’
‘Alice, we are now talking about traditional Swiss food,’ Sonja was saying, while Bear nestled up to her. ‘I will make a fondue tonight. Are you liking cheese?’
‘I am,’ she replied.
‘Excellent, you will join us.’
It didn’t sound like a question, but Alice still looked at the actual house hosts – Lola, Noah, Marco and David – for confirmation. They all nodded without question.
‘I’ve not made fondue before,’ said Alice. ‘Could I help?’
‘Of course! Food is always better when everyone is in the kitchen and all the wine is open. Noah, Marco, I know your fridge will not have all I need. Please go to the Coop for kirsch and nutmeg? Do you already have the cheeses, garlic and white wine?’
‘We have Emmental and Gruyère,’ said Lola, peering into the fridge, along with Bear. ‘Will that do?’
‘Hmm. Buy Reblochon at the shop too, that will do.’
‘I have white wine, and a garlic bulb,’ Alice offered.
‘We have both of those two,’ Lola said.
‘You my dear are the perfect accompaniment to this evening just as you are,’ Sonja said as a way of reply. ‘It’s settled then. Tonight, seven o’clock, we feast.’ Sonja was definitely a woman used to taking charge. ‘And it’s the holidays, let’s dress up in our best sparkle.’
‘Mum, this is a ski resort, I don’t think we all have sparkles with us,’ said Marco.
‘Ah, darling, sparkles are not about the clothes on your back, they are about how you carry yourself.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Tonight we fondue and sparkle.’
Alice surveyed her meagre wardrobe, wondering if any of her clothes, entirely made for comfort and cosiness, could pass for a sparkling ‘dressed up’ occasion. Her thermal polo neck was a nice electric blue . . . but who was she kidding? It was still a thermal polo neck.
Well, it was the best she had, so on it went, with some black jeans and her snow boots. She found a scrap of tinsel, which she wove around Bear’s collar, and was about to head next door when she thought of one more thing. Something she used to wear all the time, that when she put it on she felt immediately dressed up and ready to face the world. That made her feel stronger, more confident and more powerful.
Taking the red lipstick from its hiding place in her drawer, she held it in her hand for a moment, waiting to see if another flashback would come. But she was okay. She took off the cap and hovered it over her lips. She was okay. And even when Alice had smoothed it on, pressed her lips together, and smiled at herself in the mirror, she was okay.
‘Hello,’ she said to herself. ‘You took your time coming back.’
She opened the door, not bothering to put Bear on the lead. He seemed to know that no lead meant they were only going next door, and so out he hopped, straight into a snowdrift, and ploughed his way towards Marco’s home.
Alice tapped on the door and then opened it, hearing the music and laughter and chatter from the outside. ‘Hello?’ she said, and Bear pushed his way past her and skittered straight into the kitchen.
‘Alice, thank God.’ Sonja appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Come quick, we must start the fondue before these people drink all of the white wine.’
Marco appeared beside his mother, holding two glasses of wine, one half drunk, one new, presumably for Alice. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her. ‘Wow.’
‘Wow nothing,’ Alice said, self-consciously.
‘I like your lips. Urm. Your lipstick.’
