What Happens in the Alps... by T A Williams

his coffee and stood up. ‘I’m so pleased. Now, if you’d just excuse me for a moment.’ He went across to the desk in the corner to settle up. Annie watched his strong shoulders as he did so. Naughtily, she even wondered what his bottom might look like, but his suit jacket kept that concealed.
Now
, she thought to herself as she finished her own coffee,
if we go swimming together tomorrow…
. As she put the cup down, her attention still on Alex’s body, she accidentally clipped her water glass and saw it wobble first left, then right, then, mercifully, it settled down again, without tipping over and breaking. She heaved a sigh of relief and muttered to herself under her breath that she really had to make an effort to be less clumsy in future.
    Alex walked her back to the school. The sky was clear and the frost had turned into ice on the flagstones. She took his arm as they walked, not only for support. It felt very good to have him at her side and she realised her feelings for him could easily develop into something more than casual friendship.
    When they reached the outside door of the school building, she wondered for a moment if she should kiss him, but she decided against it. Maybe, if there was a next time. Instead, she held out her hand. ‘Thank you for a lovely night.’
    In the light of the street lamp, she could see he was smiling as he shook her hand. ‘Thank
you
, Annie. See you tomorrow, I hope.’

Chapter 8
    As Annie drove up to Montalto after lunch on Thursday, she was still thinking about Alex. Her evening with him had been enjoyable, interesting and exciting. She had really had a good time; an exceptionally good time in comparison to most of the last two years of her life. Back home, she had gone straight to bed, but had lain awake for a good while, her brain churning over and over. Thoughts of Steve were succeeded by thoughts of Alex and vice versa. Memories of the early days with Steve in Turin swept through her head. Now, today, as she drove up the winding road towards the hotel, she found she was reliving her wedding day in her mind. She saw the little church, her lovely ivory silk dress, her parents, friends and, of course, Steve, uncomfortable in a suit and tie. Alex, she thought to herself as she approached yet another hairpin bend, was naturally smarter and wouldn’t have found wearing a suit any problem at all.
    The loud blast of a two-tone horn brought her back to the present with a jolt. She jammed her foot on the brake and squeezed tight against the bank of snow pushed up by the snowplough along the roadside, as a huge tipper truck appeared round the bend. As it went past, she felt quite awed. The massive vehicle’s tyres were taller than her whole car. Behind it, a queue of five or six frustrated motorists followed and she waited patiently until the road was once more clear before setting off again. At least the colossal truck had served to return her thoughts to more practical matters. She glanced across at the passenger seat and checked that her briefcase was still there. Inside it were brochures, test papers and a bathing costume.
    She parked right outside the hotel in one of the bays marked
Hotel Visitors Only
and walked over to the main entrance. The building, although massive, had been sympathetically designed and built using traditional materials with a lot of visible stone and wood. The architect had ensured that it nestled into the hillside so as to lessen its impact on the stunning Alpine scene. The imposing revolving doors weren’t working and she looked round for another way in. Peering inside, she spotted a couple of men in reflective jackets, discussing something on a plan. She tapped on the glass and one of them came over to unlock a smaller door to one side of the main entrance.
    â€˜Good afternoon. Can I help you?’ He sounded friendly enough. Annie explained that she had an appointment with Signor Lagrange and the man