Lorraine Wilson - Rebellion of a Chalet Girl:

"What do we think about what?" Tash replied, resting her head back against the sofa and crossing her arms over her chest. "Are we talking about the engagement epidemic or the fresh new talent about to hit Chalet Repos? Sorry to disappoint you hun but a group of suits are not going to satisfy your heart's wicked desires."

"Who says they're wicked?" Lucy quipped. "Don't judge us all by your own standards. Some of us are actually looking for a meaningful relationship with a grown up."

Ouch.

Tash laughed to conceal the sting, fingers curling into her palms beneath her elbows, nails pressing hard against her skin. Lucy was only joking, but…

"I think it sounds really exciting. Do we know anything about them? Maybe it'll be someone famous if they're so important." Rebecca sighed, her pale blue eyes becoming dreamy. She crossed her legs demurely, back still ramrod straight like she'd been taught to sit like that at finishing school or Cheltenham Ladies College or whatever Sloanesville academy she'd sprung from.

Tash's jaw clenched instinctively, like it did pretty much every time Rebecca spoke.

God I miss Sophie.

"It won't be anyone famous." Tash rolled her eyes. "How many famous investors do you know? It'll be another group of poncy businessmen in fancy Saville Row suits and handmade shoes they can't get wet in the snow. They'll expect us to jump every time they click their fingers. If they can prise their fingers away from their BlackBerries that is."

"Now, that's where you're wrong," Amelia said, a slow smug smile creeping across her face. "The name the chalet is booked under is Nathaniel Campbell. I checked the bookings spreadsheet and then I googled him."

She paused, relishing the fact she'd got everyone's attention.

"Go on." Lucy nudged Amelia with her elbow. "Don't leave us hanging. You have been watching way too many elimination shows. It doesn't create tension, it's just annoying.”

"It turns out Nathaniel Campbell is on that programme In the Lion's Den . You know, the one where anyone under twenty-five with a business plan can go to beg for grants or internships. He's forty-eighth on the Sunday Times Rich List too; his specialty is buying companies with potential, turning them around, then selling them on again." Amelia grinned, eyes gleaming.

"You already have a fiancé, remember." Tash said quickly.

Sophie must've rubbed off on me. Who would've guessed I'd be the one taking the moral high ground?

But with Sophie gone someone had to do it. The gap Sophie had left when she moved in with Luc felt immense. And Rebecca certainly wasn't the girl to replace her. There was nothing immediately obvious to explain why, but it'd been apparent within days that Tash and Rebecca weren't going to be the best of friends. Well nothing obvious except for the huge gulf between their backgrounds. Tash had tried.

Sort of.

"I've seen The Lion's Den ," Rebecca beamed like she'd just won the lottery. "I love that programme. Nathaniel Campbell is seriously hot. He's the sexiest Lion on the show."

"I haven't seen it. Have you Tash?" Lucy asked.

"No." Tash shrugged and got off the sofa.

But then I haven't been back to England since I was eighteen.

"How do you know it's the Nathaniel Campbell?" Tash stopped at the doorway and turned back towards Amelia.

"How many Nathaniel Campbells do you think there are with the kind of money you need to invest in Verbier property?" Amelia asked. "Anyway I found his most recent interview online and when asked about new projects he said he was taking some time out in the Swiss Alps to write a companion book for the series. That would explain why he's booked Chalet Repos for the whole month."

"Hmm. I need a caffeine fix.” Tash shrugged. “Coffee anyone?”

It was irrational to dislike a man she’d never met but telling herself so didn’t stop the stirrings of resentment.

Nathaniel Campbell was bringing change to Chalet Repos and that was a good enough reason for Tash.

"I've seen him, I've seen him," Rebecca squeaked, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Gone were her casual clothes, replaced by smart black wool trousers and a gorgeous aquamarine cashmere sweater. She even wore her tiny pearl earrings and a Tiffany pendant.

Her clothes whispered wealth and style.

"Great," Tash replied without enthusiasm as she pulled a clean navy hoodie on over her vest top, her sole concession to dressing up for the guests. She might not have been so irritated if Rebecca hadn't spent most of the previous evening talking about what she should wear and what Nathaniel Campbell would be like in real life.

Tash's mix of charity shop and cheap supermarket clothes felt like rags compared to the designer cashmere clothes Rebecca wore.

I feel cheap. In pretty much every sense of the word.

She wondered for the umpteenth time if she could last the whole season without cracking and pushing Rebecca down a black ski run.

Minus the skis.

It wasn't as if Rebecca even had to work, her father was a judge, they were minted. She even had a pony back home in Surrey for frick's sake.

Something tightened in her chest at the thought of it. A proper home. A safety net. Rebecca had it with bells on and Tash…didn't. Not that she expected life to be fair; she'd given up that hope long ago.

The familiar tension crept into Tash's jaw as she applied her eye shadow. Rebecca was doing the 'chalet girl thing' for fun because 'Daddy says I need to get a job. It's like, character forming, you know.'

Tash stared at Rebecca now in much the same way as she'd stared at her when she'd explained why she was at Chalet Repos, as though Rebecca had flown in from another planet, another universe even. It often felt like they spoke a different language.

"Do you really think some business mogul come TV star is going to take up with a poxy chalet girl?" Tash shook her head.

"Maybe." Rebecca grinned.

Tash tutted. "You have been watching too many romantic comedies."

There was a certain childishness to Rebecca's expression, a naïvety that stirred an unexpected protectiveness in Tash. She felt twenty years older than her, not the mere two years older she actually was. Rebecca was twenty-one but she seemed far younger than Tash had been at her age.

From what Tash had gleaned, Rebecca had seen practically nothing of the world outside her Surrey pony club idyll, private school and holiday villas in Tuscany.

She didn't seem to have a clue just how cruel human beings could be to each other.

Lucky her. Yet the lack of knowledge made her so vulnerable.

How can I hate Rebecca one minute and want to protect her the next?

Tash sighed. This was what dormitory living could do to you. Just the way someone else was breathing or humming along to their iPods could be enough to wind you up after two months of forced proximity.

Mountain Cabin Fever, Holly called it.

Rebecca rummaged in her make up bag for lipstick and applied it. When she smiled at Tash there was a pink smear on her front teeth.

"Wait." Tash touched Rebecca's arm, the cashmere super-soft beneath her fingertips. "You've got lipstick on your teeth."

It's not Rebecca's fault she isn't Sophie.

"Oh, have I? Thanks." Rebecca pulled out her compact mirror and a face wipe to remove the smear.

"Where are Amelia and Lucy?" Tash asked, making her way to the door.

"Already out there." Rebecca pushed her make-up bag beneath her bunk. "Wait for me."

Tash rolled her eyes as she waited, but not so as Rebecca could see. Tash wasn't a total bitch. Being friends with Sophie and Holly seemed to have sandpapered away some of her sharper edges.

But prickles aren't all bad. They keep you safe; just ask a hedgehog.