Page 166 of Fe
“Come back to me, baby,” Ripley whispered.
Fen liked the mountains. He’d loved his first time in a plane, but the scenery in the Austrian resort had stolen the air from his lungs. Seeing pictures was nowhere near as amazing as being there, breathing in the mountain air, being dazzled by the brightness of the snow, the deep blue of the sky. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. But he’d had to fight to persuade Ripley to ski with his mates that first day.
“I mean it,” Fen said. “You don’t need to watch me having a lesson. Please, just go. Tomorrow, we can ski together.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
“Even a cup of coffee?”
Ripley sighed.
“Fine, I promise.” Fen breathed a sigh of relief when Ripley headed off, then turned and went into the ski school office. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to manage this. The skibobs looked fun and he really wanted to do it, but if he found it was too difficult, he’d have to look for something else to do. Build a huge pile of snowballs to throw at Ripley. Go for a sleigh ride. Maybe toboggan.
“Hi.” Fen stepped up to the desk. “Fen Wood. I have a lesson booked.”
The guy came from behind the counter and shook his hand. “I’m Kurt, your instructor. We are going to have fun today.”
Fen’s heart gave a little jump, probably in a combination of excitement and fear. Kurt’s English was excellent so Fen had no excuse for not doing exactly as he was told. The skibob was a bit like a wheel-less bike, with two separate skates under the frame and the handlebars. In addition, Fen had mini skis fixed under his ski boots. But once he got the hang of how the skibob moved, he was hooked. The mobility it gave him was addictive.
Negotiating the ski lift had been daunting, particularly when he watched people mess up, but with Kurt’s help, he managed it first time, and once the bar was down, Fen sat back and enjoyed the panoramic view. There was no way of spotting Ripley or the others. Everyone looked the same.
“Beautiful, yes?” Kurt said.
“Astonishing.”
Fen was determined to master this. He wanted to ski with Ripley and his friends and not hold anyone up. He was soon going to discover if there was any chance of that.
They slid away from the top of the chair lift and Kurt made sure Fen was stable as they moved across the top of the slope. Fen had listened to all Kurt’s instructions on how to turn, how to stop and he was desperate to have a go.
“I’ll hold onto the back until I see how you manage,” Kurt told him. “Plenty of turns to slow yourself down. Don’t try for 120 miles per hour on the first run.”
Fen laughed. “Second run?”
“I knew you were going to be trouble.”
“Remember when you were a poster-boy for BMD?” Ripley whispered. “How much money you raised?”
Elite Models had found a way to contact Fen after all the coverage of Fen being Jack Miller’s son. They’d assured Fen that wanting him to model for them had nothing to do with that, though Ripley and Fen thought otherwise. Fen had been reluctant but changed his mind when Elite had made him an offer difficult to refuse.
“I thought you’d say no,” Ripley said. “I wanted you to say no at first. I wasn’t sure how I felt about your face being everywhere. You spending time away from me. Then I realised I was being selfish. I wanted people to look at you and your smile, and for them to smile back.”
Fen hadn’t been interested in being a model, but then Elite had come up with an offer from one of the largest fashion houses. If he’d model their clothes, they’d pay a substantial sum of money towards research into muscular dystrophy. That offer made it virtually impossible for Fen to say no. He suspected Elite hoped to entice him to do more for them afterwards. He’d been persuaded into one more campaign but then stopped because it took him away from Ripley and every moment with him was precious to Fen.
Modelling and raising money for charity had ended up making his father look bad. His lack of response to what Fen was doing had been noted and commented on. In the end, his father’s publicist had made a statement saying Jack would match the contribution made by the fashion house to the charity. So good had been done there.
Fen had used some of the money he’d made to buy his mum a wedding dress. She’d looked beautiful in the Italian sunshine. Charles, Diana and Scott had not been invited. Charles had been more livid about Scott’s gambling debts than the theft of the ring or the sale of private information about Fen’s father, and mild-mannered Alistair had been furious. It had been the end of their business relationship and the start of Fen and Alistair’s.
But the wedding… It had been so wonderful. Fen had walked his mother along a carpet of petals and Alistair had cried as they’d reached him. His mum had said Fen wasn’t giving her away because she would always be there for him.
Just like Ripley. He was there but Fen couldn’t quite…
“Wake up, sweetheart.” Ripley felt Fen should be showing some signs of stirring, but the ventilator continued to push air into his lungs.
“We should go to Japan again.” Ripley’s voice cracked. “Everything we saw before, I’d love to see again. You trying to put on that kimono. Your face when I ate that unidentifiable food in the market. The way you gagged when—”
Ripley was shocked when he felt Fen’s fingers move. His eyelids fluttered and Ripley looked round for the nurse. “I think he’s waking.”
That was a cue for Ripley to have to go back to the waiting room. He paced until finally a doctor appeared. A different one. Ripley held his breath.
