Revenge of a Chalet Girl:. Lorraine Wilson

Not one she wanted to give, anyway. She shrugged, “Just wondering.”

      “Fancy your chances with one of them do you?” Tash asked. “Decided to stop being so choosy?”

      “Leave her alone Tash.” Sophie got to her feet and came over to the box of decorations, emptying and sorting it with her usual efficiency. “Don’t you want the field left clear for yourself?”

      “There’s plenty to go around and you’ve got to be generous at Christmas, haven’t you?” Tash replied, grinning.

      Amy fumbled with the lights, almost dropping them as she passed the string up to Amelia, now up on the stepladder next to the tree. Every muscle in Amy’s body tensed and a familiar tight sensation had gripped her chest. She tried to reassure herself.

      There were other Joshua Carters. There was absolutely no reason why it should be him. She’s never heard him express an interest in skiing when they’d been together.

       No, but you can bet he has the kind of friends who ski…who might invite him on their stag weekend.

      She glanced at the clock on the wall, feeling positively twitchy. If the flight had arrived on time she’d find out soon enough. Her stomach lurched and when a wave of nausea washed over her, she dropped the end of the string of lights.

      “What’s up?” Amelia called down, flicking her straight blonde hair over her shoulder and fixing cool blue eyes on her.

      “Sorry, I need the loo,” Amy practically raced out of the room, ignoring the curious looks of the others and not waiting for a reply.

      Instead of heading for the bathroom, she raced outside, desperate for fresh air, needing to breathe again. This hadn’t happened to her for years. She’d never had panic attacks before, well, before her life had imploded, leaving her crushed under the debris.

      But she’d moved on from that bleak time, hadn’t she? Had been depression-free for years, yet now it seemed to hover like a dark cloud on the horizon.

      She focused on the view, on the dramatic plunge down into the valley, the alpine range soaring into the sky and the miles upon miles of pristine, powder snow. If she didn’t anchor herself in the here and now she feared the past would catch up with her and sweep her away.

       I should be over this…

      The sunshine was warm on her face, despite the chilly wind. She inhaled the fresh mountain air, slowly deepening her breathing and trying to employ the special yoga techniques she’d learnt in class.

      So many gym classes. So many attempts to keep busy, to keep moving so she wouldn’t have to think. Now she’d been casually shoved off the precipice she’d painstakingly clawed her way up. Just by seeing his name on a list.

       Great progress Amy. You thought you were doing so well but look at you!

      She persevered with the breathing and located her backbone.

       Get it together.

      She wouldn’t let it get to her.

      “It isn’t Josh,” she whispered fiercely to the mountains as though speaking it aloud could make it true. If only she were free to go skiing this afternoon, that would’ve made her feel better. She needed a nice endorphin rush to flush the negative feelings out of her system.

       And if it is Josh I’m going to give him hell. He won’t get the satisfaction of seeing me looking defeated. He needs to see I’m over him.

       Even if it isn’t true.

      The sun, now low in the sky, disappeared behind a lone dark-grey cloud and she shivered, wrapping her arms around her body.

       I can do this.

      Back in the chalet, she found Sophie and Amelia had gone into overdrive. The tree was decorated and it sparkled silver and red, reflecting the light of the candles they’d lit and placed around the room. All the decorations were tasteful. No gaudy tinsel here.

      Yet a bit of her felt nostalgic for her tacky childhood Christmases. Mum would be bustling around at home now wearing her special Christmas apron, listening to carols on the radio and making mince pies. The house would be adorned with decorations they’d had for twenty or more years, including the angel Amy had made when she was six.

      Amy grabbed her unfinished hot chocolate and gulped it down, trying hard to focus on all the skiing she’d be able to do this winter. Not to mention the parties. She’d be able to keep busy, so busy she wouldn’t have to think.

      “Could you go and check the cakes?” Tash asked, standing in her socks on the back of a dark leather chair and fastening what looked suspiciously like mistletoe to one of the beams. The pink streaks in her hair looked pretty cool in the candlelight. She’d been experimenting again.

      “Okay.” Amy turned back round again to go to the kitchen. “You know, I’m pretty sure Holly didn’t ask for mistletoe.”

      “You’ve got to make your own opportunities girl. You have so much to learn.” Tash called out after her.

       Hmm, maybe I should. It might be nice to meet someone.

      Amy mentally pulled down the shutters on the past. It was time to move on; maybe a guy could help her do that?

      As she pulled the trays from the oven she heard the crunch of tyres on the gravel outside, followed by voices. She quickly turned the first cake out onto a wire tray to cool and had picked up the second when the group spilled chaotically from the hallway into the kitchen.

      “That smells amazing! I’m bloody starving, the food on the plane was crap.” A large man with a thatch of blonde hair, the build of a rugby player and the face of an eager puppy advanced towards her, hand outstretched as though to grab the cake, tray and all.

      The kitchen was so chaotic she couldn’t properly scan the group for Josh.

      She caught Holly’s eye and Holly shrugged apologetically, surreptitiously raising her eyes to the ceiling.

      “If you could all come this way there’s a welcome drink for you by the fire,” Holly announced to the group, attempting to shepherd them away from the kitchen. At the word ‘drink’ they instantly obeyed. “Amy will bring the cakes through once they’ve cooled.”

      Amy anxiously trailed her gaze over every member of the group as the kitchen emptied. Even though, deep down, she was expecting Josh, it was still a shock when he turned to face her. She met his eyes – dark eyes the colour of bitter coffee, fixed on her, mirroring her shock. His mouth opened as though he were going to speak but he abruptly closed it again.

      He was just the same, but not, somehow. A little broader in the chest perhaps, his complexion tanned and sun-kissed, his dark hair cropped closer to his head than she was used to. Stubble on his face too.

      But still him. Oh God, it was still Josh.

      The second cake tin slipped out of her hand and crashed to the slate floor taking the oven mitt with it. It landed cake-side down. She scrambled down onto the floor to grab it, glad of an excuse not to have to speak to Josh, not to have to look. Stupidly, not thinking, she grabbed the tin with her now bare hand and cursed when it burnt her hand in the process.

      “Ow, shit…shhhugar,” she squeaked, catching Holly’s eye and putting her hand to her mouth, her own eyes widening in horror. “Sorry, I’m so sorry.”

      She kept her eyes on the broken cake on the tiles, not daring to lock eyes with Josh again. She felt…she wasn’t sure.

      Overwhelmed might just about cover it.

      “It doesn’t matter. We’ve all done it.” Holly replied briskly, ushering the last of the group, including Josh, firmly out of the kitchen. She then grabbed the mitt and retrieved the cake from the floor. “Run your hand under a cold tap. It’s a shame they saw it happen, otherwise