Starlight at Snow Pine Lodge by Rachel Barnett

Author:Rachel Barnett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 2023-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

CHRISTMAS EVE

Christmas Eve dawned deceptively bright and clear. Tania stood at the picture window, thinking how impossible it was to believe that there was a massive storm heading their way. That, if it wasn’t for the array of state-of-the-art equipment telling the meteorologists the weather system existed and was building up momentum even as she stood here taking in the perfect pink halo topping each mountain peak, there was no way anyone in Près du Ciel – or anywhere in the Alps – would believe it. After a while, she turned away and helped herself to some coffee.

Tom took a tray of glossy croissants from the oven, setting them onto the granite worktop, humming along to something Tania couldn’t hear. The smell of freshly baked croissants and coffee was a winning combination, and she savoured a deep breath.

Pulling an earbud free, he looped it into the collar of his shirt. ‘Did you hear they’ve named the storm?’

She shook her head. She hadn’t forgotten her desire to disappear for the week. So far, she’d avoided social media, even though the pull to check her feeds had been verging on impossible to ignore. She hadn’t checked any news providers, either.

Wondering what the media might be fixating on, whether it was anything to do with her or not, was an itch which took enormous amounts of willpower not to scratch. Had there been any further fallout from the situation with Rory, she wondered, or had everybody moved on to analyse another set of people and their inadequacies? With any luck the storm had taken centre stage instead.

Not for the first time, she considered what it must be like for someone like Tom, who checked the news in the same way as he checked his watch. Sometimes with an idle curiosity, sometimes with purpose or even fervour, but never with a feeling in the base of the stomach akin to having been intubated with liquid lead.

‘Apparently, it’s done quite a lot of damage in the UK, trees down, some damage to buildings, that kind of thing. They’ve named it Storm Clara.’

‘Storm Clara?’

He nodded, pulled a packet of smoked salmon from the fridge and began peeling off the protective plastic. ‘If you don’t mind my asking, why is it that Clara thinks the car accident was her fault?’

Tania bristled. Her instinct was to close the conversation down. To tell him it was none of his business, and that he was talking rubbish to even suggest such a thing. A knee-jerk reaction, if she thought about it, but also standard protocol for a Harrington when dealing with outsiders wanting information.

‘She doesn’t,’ she said.

Where had he got such a ridiculous idea from? How could Clara think that the accident could have been her fault? She hadn’t even been in the car.

Thank God she hadn’t been in the car.

Tania realised she’d never fully considered how she would feel if Clara had been in the car that day. If she’d died, too. She’d only ever looked at it from a single point of view, her point of view.

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