Vince May - Presumed Dead

By the time Alice had finished freshening up, dinner was nearly ready and the hut was filled with a delicious aroma. She walked through into the tiny kitchen, handed Philippe the saucepan she’d borrowed then said, ‘Mmm, that smells good, what is it?’

‘Pasta and stew,’ he replied, ‘I’m afraid that’s all there is. The skiers like heavy carbohydrate food.’

‘So do I,’ Alice confided, ‘when I’m not watching my figure. It’s a pity we haven’t got any wine.’

‘Ah, but we have!’ Philippe said. ‘Stir this for me while I get it.’

Alice stirred the stew while he went out into the main room and delved into his rucksack. After a few moments, he pulled a bottle of red wine from the bag with a flourish and said, ‘Voilà!’

Alice laughed and clapped her hands, ‘You’re a genius,’ she said as he carried it into the kitchen.

‘I’m afraid we’ll have to drink it out of mugs,’ he said.

‘Who cares? It’ll be more romantic that way,’ Alice smiled.

Philippe pulled the cork out of the wine with the corkscrew on his Swiss Army Knife while Alice dished the stew and pasta up onto a couple of tin plates and put them on the table. Seated opposite each other, Philippe poured the wine then proposed a toast. ‘To your future happiness,’ he said raising his mug.

‘Our future happiness,’ she corrected, clanking her mug against his.

They each took a mouthful of wine then tucked into their food with the raging appetite that climbing and thin mountain air always gives. Neither of them spoke for the first few minutes as they enjoyed the food, then Alice said between mouthfuls, ‘I was thinking earlier, how can we be sure nobody has been up to this hut in the past week?’

Philippe swallowed and said, ‘Because of the logbook.’

‘Logbook?’

‘Yes,’ he explained, ‘each of these refuge huts has a logbook. Anyone who visits or stays in a hut must write his name in the book. I looked at it earlier and no one has been here since September 1st when the helicopter crew replenished all the supplies for the winter.’

Alice nodded and carried on eating. After another few mouthfuls she asked, ‘What about that radio? Won’t they say I should have used it to call for help?’

‘I thought of that too,’ he replied, ‘but unfortunately there’s a loose connection in the wiring and it doesn’t work.’

‘How do you know?’ she asked with surprise.

‘Because I loosened it with my penknife while you were having your wash,’ he said with a grin.

Alice laughed, ‘Looks like you’ve thought of just about everything,’ she said.

‘I hope so. There is one more job we must do after dinner though. We need to dump a load of the food and water down the toilet.’

‘I get it,’ Alice said, ‘just to complete the illusion the I’ve been up here for a week.’

‘Exactly. These huts with toilets have a septic tank that is taken away by helicopter and disposed of properly so as not to pollute the mountains. Just in case anyone wants to check up, we have to use enough food and water, and put enough waste into the toilet to make it look like you have been here a whole week.’

After dinner, they washed the plates and saucepans then carried a dozen packets of dried food and five litre bottles of mineral water through to the toilet. Alice emptied the bottles of water into the wash trough while Philippe emptied the sachets of food down the toilet, flushing it after each one along with some toilet paper. When they had finished, they put the empty bottles and packets in a box in the kitchen then took what was left of the wine and sat back down on the mattress in front of the stove.

Now the time was drawing near when Alice knew he would have to leave her alone, she started to grow melancholy. ‘How long will it take you to get back to the Charpoua Hut?’ she asked.

Philippe thought for a moment then said, ‘About two hours I expect.’

‘Won’t it be dangerous in the dark?’

‘Not too bad,’ he said nonchalantly, ‘I’ve got a good lantern and I know the path well.’

They sat in silence for a while longer drinking their wine, not knowing what to say. Finally Philippe swallowed the last of his wine and stood up. ‘I suppose I had better be going,’ he said, taking his empty mug through into the kitchen.

‘So soon?’ Alice asked, getting up and following him.

‘I expect you’re tired and want to get to bed,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.’

Something inside Alice snapped and tears filled her eyes. She threw her arms around him, burying her face against his chest and sobbed, ‘I don’t want you to go… please don’t leave me yet.’

Philippe brought his arms up and squeezed her tight, nuzzling his face into her hair. ‘Alice,’ he whispered, ‘there’s something I want to ask you.’

She stopped crying and looked up into his eyes, wondering if this was going to be the moment she’d been waiting for. ‘What is it?’ she asked softly, barely able to speak.

‘I was going to wait… wait until things were settled,’ he stammered, ‘but I must know now. When this is all over… when you have got your divorce… when you are free again… will you marry me?’

Alice felt a pulse of pleasure surge through her body. ‘I thought you were never going to ask me,’ she said, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately.

In response, he took her in his arms and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. It made her legs go weak and her toes curl. When their lips finally parted, Alice kept her arms locked around his neck but pulled away a little so she could look at him. ‘I think I ought to tell you, there are one or two things you should know if you’re going to take me on,’ she said ominously, but with a smile.

‘Such as?’ Philippe asked, smiling back at her.

‘I’ve decided to put my father’s company in trust for Charles until he is twenty-five, then he will own it outright. I’ll be coming to you with nothing.’

‘Perfect, that’s exactly how I want you,’ he replied dreamily.

‘And I’m going to take Charles out of Eton and have him live at home from now on.’

‘Even better, you know I’ve always wanted children.’

‘And I want to get my hair cut short. I’m sick of being a stereotype.’

‘I will love you no matter how much hair you have,’ he said. ‘Anything else?’

‘Just this. I want to have two babies, one right after the other, straight away, before I get too old.’

‘I will give you all the babies you want,’ he said, pulling her back in close and kissing her again.

When their lips parted for the second time, Alice nuzzled into his neck and whispered, ‘You know, if things go on like this I might just change my mind about marrying you.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked, nibbling her ear.

‘You promised to give me babies,’ she breathed, ‘and you haven’t delivered.’

Philippe didn’t need any more encouragement than that. With her arms still locked around his neck, he picked her up, carried her easily across the hut and laid her down on the mattress. Then, with the wind shrieking outside and the hut shuddering beneath them, Philippe took Alice in his arms and made the earth move for her, gently, passionately, over and over again, in ways she’d never even dreamed of…

Ross arrived at Minster at Stone and parked the E-Type in the High Street. Taking a flashlight from the car, he walked down to the dark churchyard and around the winding path to his family vault. To his immense relief, he found everything as it should be. He noticed that the entrance was clean and tidy, but the heavy, wrought iron gate was still securely locked in place with the chunky padlocks, now rusted solid, that had been fitted over twenty years earlier after his first wife’s funeral.