Page 20 of Catching a Con Man

Ade reached down to grab my hand, brushing the front of my dressing gown as he did and making me shiver. The plane ride had scared me enough. But as Ade stood and pulled me to my feet with one hand, I knew I was safe.

Tyler

Having dressed in clothes that were slightly too big for me and that felt very expensive, I let Ade lead me up another set of stairs to the roof of Holden’s complex. As soon as he opened the door, the windchill hit my face. We stepped out onto the roof, and Ade closed the door behind us with a clang. Perched on the roof, in a circle of concrete ever-so-slightly recessed into the burnished metal of the exterior of the roof, was a shiny, bulbous silver helicopter.

“So Holden just keeps a helicopter on his roof?” I asked.

“Where else would you keep a helicopter?” Ade seemed genuinely confused. He opened up a door at the front and helped me in. He leaned over to clip in my seatbelt, which I was sure I could have done myself, but I still found myself blushing like a chivalrous knight had given me his hankie. He walked in front of the helicopter and jumped in the other side before continuing to speak. “He had the runway outside built because it’s good to have space for a small jet when lots of your friends have them, even if you never like them visiting. But this is how he does his weekly shopping. Short hops.”

“You arejoking,”I said. Ade handed me a chunky black headset with a mic and I slipped it on.

“Deadly serious.” There was a bank of switches between us and Ade started to flick them. The cabin lit up with little lights and I heard a low electric hum.

“So, when’s the pilot joining us?” I asked. Ade snorted and gave me a sidelong glance. And then I realised. “No, no way.” I fiddled with the buckle around my waist, but Ade’s hand came to rest over mine, stilling it.

“I will not endanger you.” Ade’s voice was earnest, but that did little to still my beating heart.

“Can’t we call the pilot to take us…wherever we’re going?” I asked. “Surely it’s safer to have someone…qualified.”

Ade’s eyebrows drew together. “We could call myplane pilot,” he said. “But given I have hundreds of hours more experience flying helicopters than he does, I think we’re better off the way we are. Now, am I allowed to take off?”

“I guess,” I grumbled, looking down at my lap rather than at slopes of the mountain in front of me. Ade kept flicking at little switches and then punched a button between us. The helicopter rumbled, and I chanced a look up. The propeller blades were starting to turn, faster and faster, and the low rumble turned into a high-pitched whine as the helicopter lifted from the ground. I gripped the handle above my head like it would somehow save me if the helicopter fell, but when I looked at Ade had had an easy smile on his face and he was holding onto the big fancy joystick in front of him like he wasn’t controlling a multiple-ton death machine.

The helicopter rose into the air, and soon enough we were high above the house and had cleared the nearest ridge, though we were still between the mountains as Ade pushed the stick forward to move the helicopter. I could almost hear my knuckles creak as the helicopter tilted forward. Nothing about this was as relaxing as the plane ride. In the jet, I’d felt like we were removed from the world, above tranquil clouds. In the helicopter, I was ridiculously aware of how fast we were going and how close the mountainsides were.

“Look down there!” Ade was pointing down at one mountain, his voice distorted by the headset mic. I risked a glance out of the window to see the direction he was pointing. In the distance, skiers in brightly coloured outfits were carving fresh tracks in the white snow. What they were doing looked almost as terrifying as being in the helicopter above it all.

“There’s our destination,” Ade nodded ahead. A collection of wooden and concrete buildings came into view ahead of us on a flattish plain between mountains. “The ski village of Zermatt. Where you can get some of the best food in the Alps. Some of the trendiest bars and gorgeous boutiques.”

“Oooh, all the things I can’t afford,” I joked. Well, half joked.

“I’ve got my flexible friend,” said Ade. “We’re going shopping.”

“Flexible…” Had he brought a yoga instructor? And then he pulled a shiny black AMEX card from his breast pocket and I rolled my eyes. Of course.

Ade flew us over the town and we landed with a gentlethumpon a helipad just outside, near enough a ski-lift that I got nervous about the wires. But against my better judgement, Ade had landed us with all our limbs intact. I struggled with the buckle, and by the time I’d managed to get myself unstuck, he was on hand to help me out of the copter.

“So we just…leave it there?” I asked as Ade strode towards the resort. “Aren’t you worried someone is going to steal it?”

“Those who would have a desire to steal it, can’t fly it. Those who can fly it, have no reason to steal it.” Ade cocked his head at me. “Coming?”

“Comingwhere?” I asked.

“Town. C’mon.” I followed Ade as fast as my littler legs would carry me. He was wearing his own clothes that he’d run to the plane to grab, but I was wearing Michael’s spares, which though probably more expensive than anything I’d worn in my life, were slightly too big on the waist and too long. I looped my fingers through the belt-holes of the very fashionable cargo pants and half-jogged to keep up with Ade. Just as I reached him, I slipped on an icy patch and had to grab his elbow for support.

“Right. Boots. Adding to the list,” he said.

“List? What list?” I asked. But Ade just ignored me and kept walking, this time with a hand on the small of my back to keep me steady. So what if I leaned just a little bit into his touch?

Almost everyone was in thick, colourful ski gear and big boots, so I felt a little bit out of place in my all-black ensemble and long coat, but I doubted Michael was the kind of person to hit the slopes.

“Ah, here we are,” said Ade, stopping outside an unassuming cabin with a French sign outside. The smells coming from within were heavenly.

“It’s like…the bread aisle at Lidl,” I said.

“One of my favourite bakeries two flights away from home and you’re comparing it to Lidl?” Ade snorted. “Must aim higher.”

That rankled. “Well,sorryif my lived experience isn’t all French patisserie and fucking caviar.”

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