Snow Blind (19 page)
Authors: Richard Blanchard
“Sophia, you sexy beast. Just wanted to ask, you do have travel insurance for this one don't you? He has been an animal on the piste and off for the last few days; you don't know what he has been up to. Thank goodness what goes on tour stays on tour. Thankfully I am here to look out for him and Hoover up the women for him.” I am only grateful that he has been so over the top that she knows it isn't true. Two taxis are at last turning into the car park, with yellow neon banner signs atop them.
“Sorry about that, you know what he is like.”
“Yes and I know what you are like too. Be very careful with him; don't let him push you around.”
Johnny, Chris and the real Juliet drive off.
“Danny is a tranny, Danny is a tranny, nah nah nah nah nah.” Max, Steve and Robert resurrect the stupid chorus from the airport and get in the second taxi waiting for me to get in the front. Rubber Juliet gets a ride in the boot.
“I must go now, the taxis are here. I do love you, you know.”
“It sounds like that was in doubt at some point Dan.”
“No babe, you know what I mean. I know I am not the man you want me to be, but I try, I do try, honest babe.”
“Well we love you too. Listen I might have some news when you get back.”
The taxi horn is sounded loudly.
“I think I am feeling crap for a reason. I don't know yet, but maybe number two is on the way.”
“You what?”
“I might be pregnant again you fool,” she whispers, presumably because her parents are in the house not because of Bepe. I open the passenger door and hold it open.
“That's amazing. I can't talk. I have to go now.”
“Tell her you love her Dan. Go on.” I sit down, as the three of them chide me to end my call appropriately. It also looks like I have another impatient driver to deal with.
“See you soon babe.” They think I bottled it in front of them. In reality I just defied them for the first time in three days. It feels like I have a chance now.
We fizz through the Mont Blanc tunnel, ripping through the wounded mountain. Our increasing speed is marked by the strobe effect of the tunnel ceiling lights through the front window. I try to imagine the immensity of rock and snow overhead, destabilised by this underground cavern. My three fellow travellers mutter of unknown plots in the back seats, while I again sit uncomfortably upfront alongside an uncommunicative local.
“You have enjoyed your skiing Dan haven't you? You can ski better as well can't you?” Robert gives me an unexpectedly rosy two-day progress report; I can feel myself being painted into a corner.
“Yeah I can parallel now I think.”
“Well I have something special lined up for you tomorrow, we are skiing the Vallée Blanche. Most of it is piss-easy. You will have something truly memorable to tell the brat. Of course if you are not up to it I can cancel the booking with the guide and the special lift tickets, it's only more money for me to lose. No pressure but it's a yes right?” I don't answer him now, I want to ski but I don't want to openly succumb to his bullying.
“Just tell me as soon as Dan.” He lets me mull it over.
“Have you developed those ByeFly concepts yet Dan? Steve says he hasn't got anything to draw up from you,” Max enquires. I can imagine Steve grinning profusely in the back having blown me up to the boss.
“I have some strap lines here that I can to pass on to him.” It shuts them both up.
I ate too little today, I try to hasten the cab to my dinner. I can see light at the end of the tunnel, or should I say night at the end of the tunnel. We exit the toll both at the Italian end, passing under a grand arch. We emerge into the ubiquitous nighttime urban phosphorescent glow; a subtle choice of light to underplay the environmental rape we have just witnessed. That was the easiest border crossing I ever had. The taxi climbs a hill into Courmayeur, as it reaches a bend in the road he stops to let us out. We are near the end of a cobbled street that I assume is the main shopping area. I take an instant liking to the more homely alpine small-town atmosphere contrasted to the chic ski resort that is Chamonix.
Over the road is the Tunnel restaurant, where I presume the others are already stationed. The logo for “
du tunnel
” is printed on a yellow metal sign outside. It is meant to depict a brick oven with a fire burning beneath the tunnel. However, it is so ill drawn it is grossly insensitive as it looks like the fireball that engulfed the Mont Blanc tunnel seven years ago, killing thirty-nine people. A new logo and strap line could be written and visualised over dinner if they give Centurion the brief. Every seat is taken inside; this place has a reputation or a captive audience.
“Dan, I knew you were used to Italian food so I arranged to come to this place.” Johnny is happy to have pulled his plan off, as he greets me at the door.
“Yeah, it's great man, really authentic.” In different ways I owe all my stags gratitude.
“Here is to the first of many!” Juliet has got a round in as we squeeze together at a small bar near the door. Italian men sitting either side of her at the bar talk at her. She looks panicked after her ordeal before.
“Let me help you Jules.” I grab three beers from the bar, but as I hand them out I find myself encircled, and spin around to clink with each stag. The waiters pass by happy that we are sober, offering me congratulations. We are under a watching brief; they have taken a chance on an English stag party, concentrating on the likelihood of an inflated drinks bill. They have taken the precautions; we are isolated up a flight of wooden stairs to a balcony overlooking the whole restaurant. The rustic walls are peppered with dusty arrangements of dried flowers, old enamel ski posters and ancient ski equipment. We are strung out on one long bench seat, all over looking the balcony. Another round of seven beers hits the table before we sit down. To my immediate left is Robert, with Max and Steve beyond him. To my immediate right is Juliet, with Chris and Johnny beyond her. An order of garlic bread all round thankfully arrives, while we decide what to order.
I get to my feet. “Can I just say I am so grateful that you are all here for me. I have had a smashing time so far. I am buying the wine with the meal tonight to say thanks.” I break up some garlic bread and pass it down the table. I should have eaten before drinking anything.
Steve has sat rubber Juliet at the end of the table; garlic bread hangs comically from her extra wide mouth. For the first time I think of her fondly, she was intended to embarrass maybe but she is comical all the same. He made an effort with that and the T-shirts that we all wear again tonight. The seven pictures along the table of me being sick don't deter me from wolfing more garlic bread. I order two carafes of red wine to try to slow the drinking pace.
“Let's talk about the women we would shag.” Max starts the evening's bravado.
“Uma Thurman.” Johnny surprises me by making the first entry.
“Posh Spice.” Chris amazes me even more.
“Posh Spice? You would split her in two!” Max retorts.
“I would take Kelly Brook up the shitter any day of the week.” Robert inevitably lowers the tone. “What about you Juliet? Which woman would you go to bed with?” He is pushing her too far again.
“I always thought Liz Hurley was very sensual, but I think in bed with Madonna would be fun.” She covers her mouth having surprised herself and sloshes wine onto the gingham patterned plastic tablecloth.
“Way to go girl. What a threesome that would be.” Robert applauds her choice.
Pizza from the rustic oven sizzles onto the table on black platters, cheese spits menacingly at me stinging my cheek. Seven pizzas only just squeeze onto the table. We all rip into our meals; I order more wine for lubrication. Very quickly my jaw aches from chewing so fast. I start to slow down, my movements become more vague; everything and everyone softens. I enter the good drunk zone; I cannot hide my condition and have enough control to say roughly what I mean. My stomach can detect neither hunger nor fullness despite possessing most of my Quatro Stagioni now.
“Dan. Everyone. Dan.” Johnny stands for attention. “Before I get too far gone I just want to say a few words about my best mate Dan. He may be a bit scatty and laid back but I love him. He has had faith in me when others⦠Anyway, in a week's time we will all be in England getting pissed again at his wedding⦠raise those glasses to Dan and Sophia.” Everyone thrusts them high but remain seated.
“Oh and here is a little something from us all mate.” Johnny hands me a signed copy of the photograph we took in airport departures. I hug him across Juliet and stay on my feet.
“Thanks a lot guys, I will treasure this. Just to say, thanks for coming all this way for me. I know we have had our moments, but it's not easy. I thank you all. Chris, you have been a great big brother to me, but lighten up bro. Max, you have kept me in a job for years now, so I thank you for that. Steve, we have been creative partners for so long, too long for some, but we work okay despite the bullshit. Johnny you are my soul mate, you are the best a man can get. Juliet, you were once my girlfriend and though you dropped me from a great height I still love and respect you. Who is left, the little fellow, yes Robert that's you. Thanks for the free tickets from our official stag sponsor BA; much appreciated. I just hope your ego can cope after being roasted by my skiing tomorrow.” I have nudged everyone's truth; they all have their cards marked. I can't and don't want to remember what I said to them all. All I know is that for the first time in three days they are together in laughter.
“Even if one of you lets me down, I still love you guys. Enough, more wines Signori. ” I slump back into my seat and breathe more easily.
“You have come to life. I didn't think you had a pulse in that lanky body of yours.” Robert leans in to speak to me over the growing noise.
“Let's have some more fun shall we. Everyone has done truth or dare haven't they? Well let's make it truth or truth; everyone has to tell us something scandalous about Dan that we don't know. Dan you are first up.” Robert insists on party games.
Back on my feet the room is swimming a little. “Thanks Robert. Err a truth about me that I don't know is very hard. What I can reveal is that I am in love withâ¦err⦠I love without question⦠The Smithsâ¦err.”
“Not good enough, something fucking interesting you lanky shit.” Robert decrees I must try again. I am my own lie detector; I may as well have a buzzer and neon light attached to my head. I can't take my eyes off Juliet. Be bold Dan, be boldâ¦
“No, I love without question my son. I don't think I told you all but he almost got run down at the airport on Wednesday. It was my fault for err⦠not being quick enough. Anyway, he is all right but I thought I had lost him. I can't bear it to be honest. Err, Johnny you go next.” It was a sober truth that even Robert didn't dare question.
“Well I am about to release my first album at the end of the year and the truth is I am going to dedicate it to my best mate Dan.” He sits down and I just smile at him, I know my power of sentence construction is fast disappearing. Silent appreciation is more apt.
“Come on boys, tell us something interesting will you for Christ's sake.” Robert tries to change the tone.
“Err, Dan. You remember you got whacked for spending your firstedition decimal coin set. Dad hit you so hard, you had a massive welt on your leg, it didn't go for two weeks and you couldn't sit down. Well it was me who spent it and I didn't say a thing.” Chris confirms what I always suspected but couldn't prove. It was a real trauma for me at the time; a lethal combination of injustice and physical pain.
“Dan, I have never liked you. You have always got on my nerves; I don't know how we have worked together for so long. Let's split up. I don't mean this nastily; I just think it's about time.” Steve confirms something that I have always known. It will be great to see him sink without me to blame.
Max is completely gone; he leans into the table unable to stand, a vengeful pose on his face. “I have got one for you Dan. ByeFly have flown the nest. They have taken off for pastures new. Their business is terminal. This is a dead account. The account is dead. It is a dead account.” He pathetically slaps the table with the paper I gave him with strap line suggestions, in a take on the Monty Python dead parrot sketch.
“Why have you had me working on my stag weekend you bastard?”
“I just thought we could have one last shot ⦔ He slumps back unapologetically.
“Dan, I am sorry I let you down years ago. Things were very black and white then. Maybe I could have given you a chance to stay with me and⦔ Juliet is in full drunken flow when Robert has heard enough.
“Come on, lighten this up guys. The lad has had enough of this, it's his stag do, let's have a laugh. It's meant to be things like I just shagged that waitress in the toilet. That's true by the way; she's got massive brown nips. I also had that woman I copped off with last night and her mate; my dick is on fire.” He throws a dried slice of pepperoni pizza over the balcony for effect. I agree with Robert; it had all got a bit heavy. I am not sure what to believe about his sexual antics.
“Juliet that was rubbish, you have to do my dare as a forfeit. Swap underwear with Dan while you stay in this room.” She luckily has a skirt on and squirms to releases her knickers; her bra is snapped off under her Lycra cardigan. I suddenly have no shame. I flick my shoes off, stand to unbutton my trousers and pull down jeans and a clean pair of underpants. Not one man dares to comment on the size or shape of my genitals, as I'm a shower not a grower. Two waiters run to the top of the stairs in time for my nakedness. They frown and confer running away quickly to get help. Juliet's knickers are at least cotton, however brief they are. I dress again and am made to hook the bra up under my shirt.