The Hike(15)

Cat followed the others inside. The Refuge de Solalex was a typical Alpine chalet. Two peaked buildings with a cluster of wooden benches and tables outside, some topped with umbrellas. In the background, the majestic mountains. Picture-postcard stuff. Despite their journey so far, it was worth it for this. She hoped the food was good – but the way she felt right now, she’d probably eat the leather from an old shoe.

They took a table in the corner, by a window. Dark, shabby-chic tables and stools. The wooden walls of the chalet were adorned with a high shelf filled with copper pots; the space below was decorated with old-fashioned snowshoes hung on the walls, amidst some cheerful paintings of people drinking at tables just like the one where the rest of her group sat. The menu was written on a small blackboard on a stand. Ginny was holding it up, frowning as she read. No doubt being picky about what was on there.

Cat sat down on the stool next to Paul. He was reading his table mat, which contained drawings and historical information, in English and in French. She glanced around the room then towards the small bar area, where a few rugged-looking men sat on high stools, laughing with the bar staff. The place wasn’t busy – probably because it was well past lunchtime – and the waiters were taking their time to clear tables and chat with some of the customers. Thankfully there was already a carafe of water and four glasses waiting for them. Cat poured herself a drink.

Tristan stood up. ‘I’ll go to the bar.’

Cat attempted to wave him back down. ‘It’ll be table service. They’ll be here in a second.’ She picked up the menu from where Ginny had sat it down. ‘What are we all having?’ She took a long drink of her water, then refilled her glass.

Tristan ignored her and walked across to the bar.

‘What’s tartiflette?’ Ginny asked. ‘Is it a quiche? Says it comes with salade verte – which even I can work out is green salad . . .’

‘It’s a sort of creamy potato dish, with bacon and cheese. You’ll like it, Gins. Bit warm for summer, but perfect to replenish us. I think I might have that.’

‘What else is there?’ Paul hadn’t looked at the board. He preferred Cat telling him what there was, because she knew what he liked. She used to think this was quite sweet, but now realised it was more to do with his weakness and indifference. Traits that had only come to light very recently, and neither of which were appealing.

She held back a sigh. ‘There’s a steak sandwich with fries – when it says sandwich, it’ll be a chunk of baguette of course. Um, a local sausage with fries . . . and some sort of fish stew. Plus chef’s salad, which I think usually has cubes of cheese and ham in it. That’s the most summery thing on the menu, I think.’

Tristan appeared back at the table, a grinning waitress in his wake. Cat had to hand it to him, despite his often acerbic nature, he always managed to charm the ladies. He had the looks. Messy black hair, athletic body. Strong, sexy arms. She could see what Ginny saw in him. She used to think he was a complete prick, but she’d seen another side to him lately. He’d been the right choice of person to help her organise this trip, and he definitely enjoyed spending time with her. More than he enjoyed spending time with his wife – which was a bit of an issue. She wondered if she was just the latest in a long line of his little ‘obsessions’.

‘Bonjour! What would you like?’

Cat ordered for herself, Ginny and Paul. Then looked across at Tristan. He set the blackboard back on the table. ‘I’ll have the tartiflette, too. And we need four large beers.’ He grinned at the waitress. ‘Merci beaucoup.’

Ginny scoffed as the waitress hurried away with their order. ‘Listen to you, fancy-pants. “Thank you very much!” She’s not going to shag you, you know.’

Tristan rolled his eyes and took a sip of the water that Cat had poured. ‘How you feeling, Cat?’ He leaned over to the side and undid his boots, sliding his feet out then shoving his boots under the table. There was a slight waft of sweat, then it was gone.

Cat took another drink. ‘A lot better now. I’ll be better still after I get some food. I should’ve eaten more at breakfast. Or brought some more snacks—’

Paul picked up a glass. ‘To be fair, we thought we’d be having lunch about three hours ago—’

‘To be fair,’ Tristan cut in, ‘some of us didn’t exactly do much to help with the planning of this trip, and if everyone hadn’t been walking at snail’s pace, we would’ve been here ages ago.’

‘Except you got us lost, Trissy, didn’t you?’ Ginny laughed, just as the waitress arrived, depositing the beers and a basket of bread on the table. She looked at them, bemused, then hurried off again.

Ginny looked down at her placemat, tracing a finger around the map, and Cat caught the look that Tristan gave her when she wasn’t looking. There was pure venom in there, and it made Cat’s stomach somersault. Then Tristan turned to her and winked. He picked up his beer and downed half of it, before slamming it down on the table. ‘Salut!’ The cutlery rattled, and Cat noticed a couple of the men from the bar eyeing them with interest.

‘We’re here now,’ Cat said. ‘I’m sure Tristan had the best intentions when he led us down that path.’ She picked up a piece of bread and gnawed the hard crust. ‘Right, so do we know the rest of the route? How long will it take us to get back?’