What Happens in the Alps... Read Online Free Page A

bells hung above the bar. Only a few of the tables were occupied this morning, but Annie knew this was only a temporary seasonal lull. As soon as the ski lifts opened and the winter sports season started in earnest, this bar and all the other town-centre bars would be packed with tourists from all over Europe and even as far afield as Russia and China. Brits made up a high proportion of the numbers and were responsible for an even higher proportion of the alcohol consumed. But, in spite of the recent snow, only the highest ski lifts were open at the moment and the season proper wouldn’t start until they had a real good dump of fresh snow.
    Her phone started ringing. It was Matt.
    â€˜Hi, Matt, how was the Grand Hotel and the show?’
    â€˜Hi, Annie, the show was awful, but I was expecting that. I’ve never been a fan of Italian music, at least not since Puccini. As for the hotel, it was… you know me. I’ve never been one for these flashy places. All just a bit too glitzy, really.’
    â€˜And the company?’
    â€˜Nice.’
    Annie thought she knew him well enough to recognise his choice of vocabulary for what it was. ‘Just nice? Nothing a bit special? Beautiful girl, luxurious surroundings, snowflakes fluttering down from a starry sky?’ Just for a moment she found herself wondering how it would feel to be with Matt underneath a starry sky. There had been a time, if she were totally honest with herself, way back when she first met Steve, that she had rather liked the look of Matt. He was tall, he was undeniably handsome and he had always been so very friendly to her. But she had chosen Steve and had no regrets. That was unless you counted Steve’s fatal obsession with danger.
    â€˜You don’t get snowflakes and starry skies together. And, yes, it was a good night.’
    â€˜So when are you seeing her again?’
    There was the slightest pause. ‘Probably sometime soon, I expect.’ Matt didn’t let her press him any further. ‘So, how about I buy you lunch today?’
    They arranged to meet at one o’clock. Annie put her phone away, very pleased that he might take one of the rooms for his translation business. However questionable his private life, she knew she could trust him and rely on his advice, and with all the responsibilities she was now carrying, that felt good. She glanced at her watch, swallowed the last of her coffee and headed back across the road.
    Back at the school, she had only just started writing a reply to her mum’s email when Paolina appeared to tell her Signor Lagrange had arrived. Annie went out to meet him. He was a slim, balding man, maybe in his mid or late fifties, with a friendly, suntanned face.
    â€˜Signor Lagrange? My name’s Annie Brewer. What can I do for you?’
    He shook her hand. ‘Good morning. I’ve been advised to come and see you by a good friend of mine. You know Matthew Brown, I believe?’
    Annie smiled back at him. ‘Yes, indeed. Would you like to come through to my office?’ Together they walked back along the corridor and into her little office. Annie apologised for the rather Spartan surroundings. ‘I’m afraid I’m waiting for the new furniture to arrive.’ He took a seat opposite her. ‘So how come you know Matt?’
    â€˜We share a love of the mountains. He and I often go climbing together.
    â€˜So you’re a member of the Santorso Climbing Club?’ Annie kept her voice expressionless.
    Signor Lagrange nodded. ‘Yes, for many years.’ His face became more serious. ‘I was fortunate to know your late husband very well. We were all devastated by his death.’
    Annie nodded, but made no response apart from murmuring, ‘Thank you.’
    He leant forward. ‘Anyway, I’ve come to see you in your professional capacity as the director of this new school of English. I have a problem and Matt tells me you’re the