fortunate it was that so many pistes and lifts were shut. Even the funicular had only four people in it, and they have been safely evacuated down the smashed, glassed-in tunnel, but the announcer has already said, ominously, that it is going to take “many days to assess the repairs.” Not even complete the repairs, assess them.
Given that, a mangled swimming pool seems like getting off pretty lightly. If it wasn’t for Eva, we would be counting our blessings. But the knowledge that she’s still missing is like a dark, spreading poison, gnawing at the edge of everything. When I shut my eyes, I can see her—buried in darkness, growing colder and colder with every moment that passes, wondering if anyone is coming. If she’s lucky, the close-packed snow will suffocate her quickly. If she’s not…
The thought makes me feel suddenly weak with fear.
“How much food have we got?” I ask Danny, trying to distract myself from my thoughts, and he shakes his head dismissively.
“Plenty. Don’t worry about that. Tony Stark down there might have to go without fresh milk for a few days, but the store cupboard’s got enough in it for a siege.”
There’s always the possibility that Eva got bored of waiting for everyone, skied down into St. Antoine hours ago, and is absolutely fine, just unable to contact us. But as the hours tick on, that’s starting to look more and more unlikely. The landline and the internet are still both down, and the mobile reception has only worsened since the avalanche. The remaining masts presumably buckled beneath a hundredweight of snow, but Inigo’s phone continues to get a few erratic bars every now and again. He’s had a text from home—just one—and managed to reply saying he was okay. Wouldn’t Eva have texted to say she was all right when all this kicked off? Wouldn’t she have found a way, somehow, to get word through?
LIZ
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It is 3:11 p.m. when the electricity dies. I am sitting up in my room, trying to shut out the noises from downstairs, when the room is suddenly plunged into darkness. I fumble for my phone, wondering if a bulb has blown. Then I hear shouts of annoyance coming from up and down the corridor. It is not just me.
“Did your electricity just go off?”
It is Topher’s voice, right outside my bedroom. For a moment I think he’s talking to me, but then I hear an answering deep rumble: Elliot.
“Fuck,” Topher says, in response. “That’s all we need.”
I open the door to find the rest of the group congregating on the landing, discussing what to do by the light of their mobile phone torches. In the end, we traipse downstairs to consult Erin and Danny. I hang back as Topher knocks irritably on the kitchen door. He is grumbling under his breath about the fucking arse end of nowhere.
“What?” Danny answers. His expression is belligerent.
“Hello,” Topher says, abruptly changing his tone. He is out to charm now. He is not stupid. He knows he has got to get these people on his side. The effect is impressive. It is like a switch being flipped. “So sorry to disturb, but our electricity’s gone out.”
“You and me both, mate,” Danny says shortly.
“And, is there anything one can do?” Topher asks. He’s stressed, and I can tell because his accent has become indefinably more monied.
“Not really. The backup generator was in the pool house.” Danny waves a hand at the debris just visible from the kitchen window. Topher swears. His charm is slipping.
“So we just wait and freeze to death?”
“Not freeze,” Danny says. “We’ve got plenty of wood. You can start by putting a log on the living room fire.”
Topher opens his mouth like he is about to say something. Then he seems to think better of it and closes it again. He turns and walks slowly back through to the darkened living room. The rest of us follow.
In the lounge, Topher flings himself onto the sofa while Miranda lights candles. Rik opens up the stove, stirs the embers, and puts another two logs on top.
“Great,” Carl says. “Bloody great. This is all we need. We’re gonna be fucking ice cubes by the time they find us.”
“We’ll be fine,” Miranda says shortly, her voice clipped and annoyed. “It’s Eva we need to worry about.”
Eva. In all the commotion, I had almost succeeded in forgetting about her. My stomach crunches with mingled guilt and anxiety.
There is a long, horrible pause