Page 31 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
‘What? Why?’
‘I just wondered whether it would be less awkward than a surprise at the ceremony on Wednesday.’
Kira stilled as the shock ricocheted through her. Wednesday. Oh, shit. Christian was coming to the wedding. He must be one of the guests staying down in the valley, not close enough to join the wedding party at the chalet. She hadn’t believed this occasion could get any worse for her, but it just did.
‘I’m sorry. I thought you’d know.’
I’m sorry… She was pretty sure Rav had said those words to her twelve years ago, when it had become clear that Christian had screwed her over.
‘No, I… Well, um… I need to go and sort out our booking,’ she said, approximating what she hoped was a halfway normal facial expression as she gestured at the ticket booth. Taking one step away, she turned back when a disturbing thought echoed in her head. ‘Please don’t say anything… about that – to Alessandra or the others. I’m here to do a job and…’
More pity crossed his features and Kira’s stomach turned. She bolted for the ticket booth, angry and annoyed that she had feelings that wouldn’t stay stuffed down where she put them. She was officially the worst wedding planner in the history of the profession and if she wasn’t careful, she’d ruin everything.
After confirming their group booking, she trudged back through the snow to where Carla was handing out tiny bottles of something alcoholic. Either it would be sickly sweet or so strong it would numb your vocal chords and Kira really could have done with knocking something like that back right now.
‘Is everything all right?’
Mattia’s low voice behind her, surprisingly close, made her pause. ‘I should be asking you that,’ she mumbled. Glancing over her shoulder – bad idea, he looked like a fallen angel with his shoulders hunched, curls over his forehead, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his long coat and a silver cross dangling from one earlobe – she waited for him to respond.
‘Is that groomsman?—’
She cut him off. ‘Look, it’s fine and not your concern. Go enjoy the views – with Carla. You’re not going to get any smiles out of me today.’
He was quiet for a long moment while Kira’s curiosity got the better of her once more. That she noticed – and appreciated – the strong cut of his jaw and the contrast with his lips, pouting in thought – was even more concerning.
Turning away, he said, ‘Why do I want to turn that into a challenge?’
Go enjoy the views – with Carla.
If Mattia hadn’t known better, he might have thought he detected a ring of jealousy in her tone – a prospect that made his heart leap quite inappropriately. But he was also put out at the suggestion that he’d enjoy the company of his ex-girlfriend, after everything he’d told Kira the day before.
‘You two stand right at the glass,’ Alessandra said, nudging him so hard as they filed onto the cable car that he nearly stepped on Carla’s toe. Alessandra had the strong hands of a bossy, Italian nonna – and the same built-in urge to matchmake, it seemed.
The background hum of quiet machinery was unfamiliar, unlike the drone of traffic and occasional blare from the engine of a motorino that characterised the soundscape of home. Alessandra’s wedding party was hushed as they crowded into the little gondola making its way slowly around the turning.
Carla shot him an apologetic glance as she was squished next to him at the front, but he was still a little buzzed from the morning – his second snowmobile ride, the landscape that burned beauty onto his retinas everywhere he looked, the short exchange with Kira.
He knew exactly where she stood behind him: in the middle, casually holding the metal stand for balance. It felt as though he would have known that with his eyes closed, the way he knew she wasn’t comfortable around that groomsman, even though she wouldn’t tell him why.
But he couldn’t close his eyes now, not when the world was so enormous around him. The sheer scale of the place made him uneasy, but still, the landscape drew him in and none of his reservations could dull the thrill of anticipation zipping to his toes.
Another gondola rushed into the station, braking gently, and then it was their turn. With a surge of acceleration, the little car whooshed upwards, pressing gravity down onto its occupants.
The breath was squeezed out of Mattia’s lungs as they lifted high off the snowy ground. The mechanical hum was replaced with cotton wool silence. While inside the gondola, he heard muted whispers, the shuffling of feet and swishing coats; outside, the utter quiet seemed to push against the glass.
Apprehension swelled in his chest, not because of the gravity-defying gondola swinging gently high above the ground, but because of the oppressive quiet. He’d experienced the feeling before in sound-proofed recording studios and performance spaces with engineered acoustics. It would start with a distant buzz, as though someone had let a single fly into the space. Gradually amplified between his eardrums, it would become a persistent drone and then a tense vibration, filling his head until the world didn’t exist – only his own spiralling senses.
Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he pressed a hand to the cool glass in front of him and braced himself. The landscape that had appeared one enormous wall of rock and snow and pines stretched and opened as they travelled higher, a rocky outcropping on one side, a snowy saddle and a steep ravine on the other.
They reached the first pylon and passed it with a deep whir. Winter cloud cover painted everything grey, but as they rose and rose, the sun fought to shine through until the sky was a glowing blanket of mother-of-pearl. There were no straight lines, only rounded lumps of snow, miniature pines and jagged protrusions of rock half-covered in powder.
The town below disappeared; the valley looked tiny. Peaks and ridges emerged before them, rolling out a new world where life was insignificant and yet every breath precious. He could feel his world expanding.
No, wait, that was the pressure in his head. He swallowed discomfort as a light ringing threatened his eardrums. With a pop, the pressure normalised and he took a deep, shaky breath.
A breeze swept along the ridge, showering the gondola with tiny particles of ice and sending the little cabin into a swing. His other hand gripped the railing tightly and his gaze was dragged down – and down.
‘Hold onto him, Carla. He looks like he’s going to keel over.’
