Chapter One
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Half way down the black run, a young woman lay unconscious in the snow. Blood was pooling and draining into the snow beneath her, from a wound to her head. She didn’t appear to have worn a helmet or goggles, as neither was present. One ski had become dislodged from her foot and the poles were both snapped in half, rendering them unusable.
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She’d been found by three mountain rescue skiers after an avalanche warning had been issued to stop all activity on the slopes. The only tracks in the snow were old, where skiers had come down earlier. The question puzzling everyone was how she had obtained her injury, as there were no rocks or anything else that she could have hit her head on.
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Knowing that the black run had been in recent use, the rescue skiers were ensuring there was nobody left on it. Between them they carried a flat-pack stretcher which could be attached to the patient’s own skis. Having checked her over for other possible injuries, the woman was soon strapped securely on to the stretcher and covered with a foil blanket, before being taken down to the village. The team managed to radio down for an ambulance to meet them.
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Lying in bed, in a freshly starched gown, the young woman opened her eyes and looked around her, trying to take in where she was. The room was painted white, with blue tram lines a few inches from the ceiling, tracking around the walls. The duvet cover was a bluebell colour with a bright white sheet. The pillow under her head, was soft and firm at the same time, holding her in a secure embrace. There was a buzzing sound which she couldn’t place, and on her right arm was a blood pressure cuff which automatically inflated, squeezing so hard that it felt like the blood supply was being halted in its track. A heart beat monitor was clipped on to a finger and a nasal oxygen cannula was strapped to her face with the tube passing round the back of both ears. Stood next to the bed was a doctor.
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‘Hello young lady. How are you feeling?’
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‘My head feels like it’s been removed with a sledge-hammer and reattached with super-glue. Where am I? It looks like a hospital. What happened?’
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‘It is indeed a hospital. You’ve taken a nasty fall and obtained a gash above your right eye, which we’ve had to suture. You are going to have a beautiful bruise. You must have hit your head on something quite hard, possibly a rock. Can you remember what happened before the accident?’
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‘No… sorry, I can’t remember anything, I have no recollection about what I was even doing?’
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‘You were skiing the famous black run, which means you are a competent skier, or maybe out of your comfort zone.’
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‘Or totally bonkers… I can’t ski.’
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‘Are you sure? You were definitely skiing.’
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‘It frightens the heck out of me. I mean, you watch these people jump off the top of the mountain and zig-zag their way down to the bottom… crazy. I’m afraid of heights.’
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‘Mmmm, I suppose that answers the question of how traces of Rohypnol were found in your blood.’
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‘Rohypnol? What’s that?’
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‘It’s a powerful sedative.’
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A look of puzzlement filled her face. ‘I know I didn’t take a sedative. How could it have got into my system?’
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‘The most likely way is in a drink. Can you tell me your name? You were not carrying any identification, so we don’t know who to contact for you.’
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She tried to reach into the depths of her memory, but it was very fuzzy. ‘Faye, um… no, it’s… yes, Faye.’
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A nurse entered the room and stood next to the doctor.
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‘Well Faye, there’s a young man outside eager to see you. He raced here after the ambulance left the village to be with you. Shall I let him in?’
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‘I’m not sure’ Faye said puzzled, ‘I have the feeling I was here on my own… I am in France, aren’t I? ‘
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‘Yes, my dear, you are in France. We couldn’t find anything on you to say who you were, but the young man insists he knows you.’
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‘Can I ask, what his name is?’
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‘Peter Elliott. Does that sound familiar?’
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‘No, it doesn’t… What if I don’t know him?’
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‘I guess, he should come in…’
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‘It seems, young lady, that you’ve also caught yourself a dose of retrograde amnesia, a result of the knock to your head. It should only be temporary, but the length of time it takes for your full memory to come back, does differ from person to person.’
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‘Thank you, Doctor. Can you tell me what the buzzing sound is, it’s really annoying?’
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‘I would imagine that is from your injury. You can probably hear your blood circulating your body. It won’t last long.’
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The nurse left to fetch Peter.
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‘You can come through now, but I have to warn you, she may not recognize you. She thinks her name is Faye, is that correct?’
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‘Yes… I’m sure that’s what she told me.’ He mumbled.
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‘Now young lady, don’t you worry too much, you’ve had a nasty knock to the head so take care and rest. Ah, here’s your young man. I’ll be back to see you later this afternoon.’
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Peter walked into the room. He was about five foot eleven inches tall, dark hair, which was slightly receding, green eyes with curling lashes, and looked like he went to the gym or played sport regularly. Faye didn’t recognise him at all, but she was attracted to him, she could feel her heart beat rising and she felt sure she was blushing.
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‘Are you alright? I’ve been so worried about you. When you didn’t meet me for hot chocolate this morning, I wondered what had happened, then there was a rush of people talking about a young woman being found injured and unconscious on the ski-slopes.’
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‘I’m sorry, I don’t know you. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Please excuse me, but you’ll have to leave… Please.’
Her head was pounding, she just wanted to close her eyes and drift off into the dark world that was beckoning her.
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‘This is going to sound very odd, but we did only meet yesterday. We met in the town when I accidently trod on your foot, then knocked your hot chocolate out of your hands.’
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‘I’m sorry… I don’t recall the incident.’
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‘You said I could buy you another hot chocolate, but it would have to be today, and when you didn’t turn up this morning, I thought you’d given me the brush off.’
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‘My apologies, I really don’t remember, which is a shame, as you seem… a nice… man...’
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Peter turned to the nurse. ‘She seems to have drifted off. Is she going to be ok?’
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‘Perhaps, you should leave, come back tomorrow, let her have some rest. Maybe she’ll remember you then. She will be fine and we should be able to discharge her tomorrow.’
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Peter returned the next day carrying a large holdall and a rolled-up newspaper. Faye was dozing when he arrived, so he placed the holdall on the floor under the end of her bed and sat down on the chair next to her. The oxygen supply and monitoring equipment had all been removed. She looked like a sleeping angel in the bed, her hair curling around her face. Peter opened up his newspaper. The news was mostly about the avalanche. Faye opened her eyes and saw the other headline.
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Avalanche hits village: Eight feared dead.
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‘Oh those poor people…’
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‘Hello, how are you feeling this morning?’
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‘Better, I think.’
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‘I hope you don’t mind me visiting you again, but you did say you were here on your own, and I thought you’d like a familiar face… although of course, you don’t recognise me… so that’s not turned out right has it?’
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Faye smiled. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you to return. I’m sorry I was a bit abrupt with you yesterday. My head was pounding and I couldn’t think straight.’
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‘I really don’t mind. I wanted to get to know you…’
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‘Which is why you stood on my foot and knocked my drink out of my hand?’
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‘You’ve remembered?’
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‘Only what you said yesterday. I don’t know what I hit my head on, but it must have been very hard. As you can see, I have a lovely egg-shaped lump under the cut and bruise.’
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‘It does look very painful, but, I hope you don’t mind me saying, it doesn’t detract from how pretty you are.’
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‘Wow flattery as well as good looks.’
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Peter blushed. ‘I went back to the bistro, after I left here yesterday. They said you’d left a luggage bag which you were going to collect later in the day, which means, happily for me, that you were planning on meeting me for that hot chocolate. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve brought the bag with me, maybe there’s something in it that will jog your memory?’
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‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you. Do you mind putting it here on the bed?’ she asked sitting up and patting the bed.
Peter stood up and fetched the holdall.
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Faye tried to open it. ‘Oh, it’s locked.’
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‘Do you have the key?’
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‘No, apparently I didn’t have anything with me, so presumably any key would be in a handbag or something, which would appear to be missing.’
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‘The manager at the bistro felt sure you left with a shoulder-bag and an oblong box.’
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‘Well, I haven’t either of them now…’
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‘I have a pen-knife, perhaps I could force the lock?’
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‘Yes please, if you don’t mind.’
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It took Peter a couple of minutes to break the lock. Faye searched through the bag looking for anything that might give her a clue as to who she was, but the only contents were clothing, a pair of flat shoes, a pair of ankle boots and a jewellery roll which contained a gold chain and five pairs of earrings, the colours of which matched the clothing.
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‘It’s just clothing, there’s no papers, or passport, or anything that says who I am.’
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‘But at least you can get dressed now. Do you remember where you were staying?’
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‘No, I can’t remember anything except I was here on my own. But I must have checked out, if I left my bag at the Bistro. I don’t even know what my full name is, or where I live, or anything…’
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Faye dissolved into tears, her world caving in around her. Peter instinctively wrapped his arms around her, offering her protection from a world that had disappeared for her.
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‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Peter asked gently.
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‘I don’t know…’ sobbed Faye ‘I mean, unless anybody misses me, I don’t know where to go or if I have anywhere to go to.’
‘Will you be my guest at the hotel, while we get travel sorted out for you and anything else.’
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‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you.’
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They both laughed.
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Peter pulled the curtains closed around the bed and went out to speak to the nurse while Faye dressed. A few minutes later she pulled the curtains back having dressed in jeans, a pale green blouse and a jumper in a slightly darker shade of green. On her feet, she had on a pair of fleece-lined tan coloured ankle boots. Her dark hair was short and curled around her face, framing her brown eyes.
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‘The nurse told me they put the clothing you were wearing in the cabinet next to the bed. Would you like me to fetch it out, save you having to bend down too much?’
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‘Yes please, thank you.’
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Peter retrieved a pale aqua ski jacket and trousers, and the other clothes Faye had been wearing, which were neatly folded and had been placed in a plastic bag. A pair of ski boots were sat under the bed next to the cabinet.
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‘I know those boots are not mine. I know I don’t ski.’
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‘What about the jacket and trousers?’
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‘I think they’re mine, they certainly look like they’d keep me warm.’
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‘I think this might be a stain from the spilt hot chocolate.’ Peter said, pointing to a discolouration on the jacket and trousers.’
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‘Definitely mine then.’ Faye laughed.
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The doctor entered the room. ‘Well, young lady, you may leave our hospitality. Just take it easy for a few days. If you have any continuing pain, take normal pain-killing medication. If you suddenly get any distortions in your vision, I suggest that you get to the nearest hospital as quickly as you can. The sutures in your brow will dissolve over the next couple of weeks, the bruising will disappear, and you’ll look more like your natural self.’ Turning to Peter, ‘Take care of her young man, she’s very lucky it wasn’t worse.’
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‘Thank you doctor, I will.’
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Faye placed the worn clothing in her bag along with the ski trousers and put on her jacket. She stood up and reached out to grab her bag.
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‘Oh no you don’t, I’ll carry that for you.’
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‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you.’
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They grinned at each other. They were both feeling very comfortable in each other’s company. At Peter’s hotel, they stopped at reception to book Faye a room.
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‘Hello, I need to book a room for my friend here, just for the night.’
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‘I’m sorry Sir, we are fully booked, there are no spare rooms.’
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Peter turned to Faye. ‘My room does have a spare single bed in it, if you’re happy to share the room.’
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‘I guess I don’t really have an option, so I’ll take you up on your kind offer.’
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‘The first thing we need to do is contact the British Embassy and sort you out a travel pass. I’ll contact my secretary back in the UK, she’ll sort this out for you. It shouldn’t be a problem.’
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‘What do you do for a living?’
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‘I’m a lawyer.’
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‘An interesting one, or a plain old run of the mill one?’
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Peter laughed. ‘Possibly an interesting one, but probably more a run of the mill one. I take on cases that others don’t want to, and some of them are pretty interesting. We’ve been known to carry out investigative work at times.’
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‘I presume it pays well?’
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‘It pays ok, better than a lot of jobs.’
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‘That’s what I thought.’
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‘So, you’re just interested in me for my money, and there I was thinking it was for my good looks.’
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Faye patted his arm as she laughed. ‘No, I just like you Mr Elliott.’
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‘Do you want to use the lift or go up the stairs?’
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‘Um, lift please.’
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‘I need to warn you that it isn’t very large and creaks at every movement.’
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‘Sounds interesting.’
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The lift was tiny. It was the width of one person and the length of three, and did creak at every movement that was made. Faye looked alarmed as Peter pressed the button and the lift jolted into life. She grabbed Peter’s arm.
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Peter laughed. ‘From my experience, a lot of hotel lifts in France are like this, you do get used to it.’
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‘Really? I’m glad I don’t suffer from claustrophobia.’
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Peter’s hotel room was on the second floor with windows looking out over the main street and views of the mountains beyond. It was decorated in a typical Provencal way, with the same blue shepherd and shepherdess printed wallpaper covering the walls and the ceiling, complete with matching bed linen, even the lampshades had the same design. There was a double bed and a single bed, a small table and two chairs and two comfy chairs. The floor was covered in a carpet that had, perhaps, seen better days. The en-suite was completely tiled in white with a shower standing guard over the bath. Peter placed Faye’s bag at the end of the bed on the luggage table.
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‘I’d like to buy you that hot chocolate, but I don’t appear to have any money any more, as my bag has disappeared. I only have a couple of tissues in my jacket pocket.’
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‘That’s alright, how about I pay for it, you can pay me back some other time. Sadly, I can’t take payment in tissues,’ he laughed. ‘Let me contact my secretary, then we’ll go to the bistro, see if it jogs any memory.’
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The bistro was quite busy with skiers who had made their way down the slopes and with others having lunch before finding their way to the ski lift. Peter and Faye found a table tucked away by a window where they could watch the comings and goings of people outside. The waiter approached their table. He was wearing a white shirt with a bow tie and black waistcoat and trousers. In his left hand, he held a tray balanced on top of his fingertips. His right hand was held behind his back.
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‘Bonjour, Monsieur, Mademoiselle, que désirez-vous?’
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‘Deux chocolats chauds s'il vous plaît’
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‘I see you found your friend Monsieur.’
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‘Yes, thankfully and not too worse for wear.’
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‘Would you like anything to eat?’
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‘Pain au chocolat would be lovely, please.’
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‘Make that two, please. Thank you.'
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The waiter left serviettes on the table and placed their order.
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‘Does being here remind you of anything Faye?’
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Faye shook her head. ‘No, sorry, nothing at all. I don’t remember coming here even.’
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‘We could have a walk around the town, if you’re up to it, when we’ve finished our refreshments.’
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‘I’ll let you know how I’m feeling, but it would be nice. Are you here on a skiing holiday Peter?’
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‘No, like you, I don’t ski. I’m here working. I had a client, who was English, who owned a chalet on the edge of the town which he was selling. We were finishing up the necessary paperwork last month, when he suffered a heart attack and sadly passed away. He lived here in Chamonix with his second wife. I came out with a copy of his will, which said the chalet should be kept in the family to provide an income for his widow. So, you see there was a slight complication. He was going to alter his will once the sale had gone through. His widow wasn’t sure at first if she wanted to keep the chalet, even though her children were keen for her to do so, but in the end, she decided that it was too much hassle to keep it maintained and asked me to complete the sale on her behalf. So, here I am.’
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‘Oh, that’s sad.’
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‘Yes, but then again, if I hadn’t been here, I wouldn’t have met you.’
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‘That’s very nice of you to say so.’
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As they put on their jackets, ready to leave, a young man was watching them from a table a few feet away. He had a copy of Le Monde open on the table in front of him, and a latte sat to the side. His ski jacket was slung over the back of his chair. He was tanned, and well groomed. As he saw Faye, he frowned, looking puzzled and cross at the same time. As Faye passed him, she looked him in the eye and smiled. He seemed familiar, but she thought that if he knew her, he would have spoken to her. The walk around the town brought a rosy glow to both their faces. The temperature had dropped and it started to snow.
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‘Do you want to carry on walking?’
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‘I think I’ve done enough for the moment, could we go back to your hotel?’
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‘Yes, of course, I’ve some work to catch up on, so you could have a nap if you wanted.’
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‘Now that sounds like a very good idea.’
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While Faye dozed on the bed, Peter sat at the table with his laptop. He contacted his secretary, Julie, who had news that she had contacted the relevant authorities and everything was in order and had arranged a flight ticket for Faye for the same flight that Peter was taking the next day. All paperwork would be at the Customer Services Desk waiting for them. Having completed his work, Peter made himself comfortable in an armchair and read his book.
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Faye stirred.
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‘Hello, did you have a good sleep?’
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Faye stretched her arms, arched her back and yawned. ‘Yes, I feel almost human again. What time is it?’
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‘It is, quarter to six.’
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‘Oh my goodness I’ve slept most of the afternoon.’
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‘You must have needed it. My mother would have said it’s your body’s way of healing itself. Are you hungry?’
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‘Getting that way. I haven’t been much company, have I?
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‘No worries, you needed the rest. How about we go for dinner at six o’clock, or is that too soon?’
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‘No, that sounds ideal. To be honest my stomach is rumbling. I’ll just go to the bathroom and freshen up.’
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They chose to eat in the hotel’s restaurant where Peter told Faye about where he lived and where he’d spent his childhood.
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‘I live in the Lake District, Keswick to be exact. It’s where I work and where I grew up.’
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‘I remember going there when I was a child… or perhaps I lived there…’
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‘Can you remember anywhere in particular?’
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‘Plumbland seems to come to mind, I don’t know why?’
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‘It’s not far from Keswick.’
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‘The Lake District is one of my favourite places in the UK.’
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‘Mine too.’
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‘You said you’re a lawyer. Are you married?’
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‘No, sadly single, waiting for the right lady to come along.’
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‘Really? Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that a nice man like you shouldn’t be on his own.’
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‘Well that’s really nice of you to say so. I probably work too much and not socialise enough. It’s a case of que sera sera.’
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After breakfast the following morning, Peter and Faye collected their bags from the hotel room and ordered a taxi to take them to the airport. Peter collected all the relevant paperwork from the customer services desk and after checking in and managing to get seats next to each other, they made their way to the departure lounge.
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‘Thank you for arranging all this. I am very grateful. My next problem, is I don’t know where to go, when we land.’
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‘You can stay with me, if you like, until your memory returns. I have a spare room, and you are more than welcome to make use of it.’
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‘Do you know, I’d like that. That’s very…’
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‘Kind of me?’ Peter finished.
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Faye laughed. ‘Yes.’
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They sat in the departure lounge waiting for their flight to be called.
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‘Peter?’
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‘Yes.’
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‘Do you mind if I hold your hand when we take off and land? I can’t stand heights and don’t particularly enjoy flying and I definitely do not want the window seat.’
‘Yes, of course. I shall be honoured to do that for you.’