on the sofa, arms folded, but I can see he knows Tiger is right.
“Inigo,” Erin says now, “have you had any more luck with mobile reception?”
Inigo shakes his head.
“Nothing, sorry. And now I’m down to twelve percent battery, so I’m trying just to turn it on occasionally to check.”
“Anyone else?” Erin says. There is an edge of desperation in her voice. There are headshakes all around the room. Most people must be out of battery now, anyway. I turned my phone off when it got to 4 percent.
“And what did they say when you spoke to them?” Erin asks, turning back to Inigo. He frowns.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, did they give any timescales at all? Any indication of how they proposed to get to us? I know they didn’t know the full extent of it then, but they knew we had someone missing, right? I would have thought we’d have been quite high up the list of priorities.”
“I…” Inigo is frowning, as if he is trying to remember. “Yes, I mean, I told them Eva was missing and that we were trapped in our chalet at the top of the funicular. And I said… I told them about your ankle. And they just asked some questions about supplies and then said they would come out to us as quickly as possible.”
“That was it? No timings at all?”
“N-no…” Inigo sounds uncertain. “I mean, the reception was really bad. I’m trying to remember, but I don’t think it was mentioned.”
“Okay,” Erin says. There is an edge of frustration in her voice that her calm politeness doesn’t quite mask. “That’s understandable. Well, we’ll just sit tight I guess. Okay, well, that’s it, everyone. If you go through to the living room, Danny and I will bring lunch along very shortly.”
Everyone begins to disperse. Carl is still muttering angrily. Tiger is talking to him soothingly. Miranda and Rik are the last to leave the lobby. I am directly in front of them. I can hear their low conversation as we file slowly into the lounge.
“I suppose Inigo did actually phone the police?” Rik speaks. His voice is barely above a mutter.
“What do you mean?” Miranda sounds surprised.
“Well… I mean… Erin seemed pretty concerned that we hadn’t heard anything. And I can see her point. You’d have thought they’d have got someone up here, right? Even if it was just a scout.”
“But we heard him, Rik, we heard him calling them.”
“We heard his end of the conversation, yes. But how do we know he actually made the call? I mean it’s a bit suspicious full stop that he managed to get reception when none of the rest of us did. What was that all about?”
Miranda doesn’t answer that. But I notice that when we are all gathered in the living room, she takes the seat farthest away from Inigo, and she doesn’t meet his eyes.
ERIN
Snoop ID: LITTLEMY
Listening to: Offline
Snoopers: 5
Snoopscribers: 10
“Bollocks.” I’m standing in the kitchen, watching Danny put the finishing touches to big bowls of salad. He’s done an amazing job with tins and jars, but there is no way of masking the fact that the bread is stale and the lettuce has seen better days. Twenty-four hours without electricity is starting to take its toll on the freshness of the chilled food.
“What do you mean, bollocks?” Danny doesn’t look up. He’s crumbling crushed walnuts over a big plate of ripe, sliced pears and slightly overripe Bleu d’Auvergne cheese.
“I just… I feel like that didn’t go so well?”
Danny tastes the dressing and then shrugs.
“I dunno. You were telling them something they didn’t want to hear. What did you expect them to do—applaud?”
I shrug. I am not sure what to say.
At last Danny is ready, and we each pick up a couple of bowls and carry them out. As I limp after Danny, through the empty lobby, I see croissant crumbs from earlier today scattered across the thick sheepskin rug. There’s not much I can do without any electricity for the Hoover, but in my current mood it feels like a sign of the way things are fraying at the edges, falling apart while Danny and I desperately try to keep the wheels on.
In the living room, the silence is deafening. There’s no longer any friendly backdrop of music to mask the tensions in the group, only the soft roar of the log burner, and the patter of snow against the window. Rik and Miranda are sitting together, their arms touching. They seem to