Chapter Four
I sitin my dressing gown, watching Shawna pull out a variety of skimpy outfits and chuck them on the bed next tome.
“How about this one? I love this dress. I pulled Pierre in it,” she says, holding up what appears to be two silver hankies tied together withstring.
“Um, I think I might be a bit cold in that one,” I say diplomatically. Frankly, I would look like a slut, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Despite what she said earlier, I am a little shapelier than her lean figure. Basically, I had tits and an arse, and I’d be falling out all over the place in that skimpynumber.
“Hmm, I see what you mean. Although the club gets pretty steamy, you only really need your ski jacket to throw over you until you’re inside. Then you’ll be thanking me for making you wear something likethis.”
“What about my legs?” Iask.
“What about your legs?” Shawna laughs. “You’ll get used to the cold, Ipromise.”
“Sure I will,” I say, not at allconvinced.
“So, whatareyou going to wear then? If you want to pull, thermal underwear and jeans just aren’t going to cut it.” She taps her finger against her cheek, looking thoughtful. “Oh, I know. How about this t-shirt, and this miniskirt?”
I take my Pink Floyd t-shirt from her and shake my head at the mini skirt. “I’ll wear this t-shirt, with these,” I say, picking up some black, fake leather skinny jeans. They are the only thing she’s brought that is remotely normal looking. “And those,” I say, pointing to my trusty pair of bikerboots.
She considers the outfit for a moment. “Well, I suppose it is sexy in a rock-chick kind of way. Hell, why not? But don’t blame me when you turn into a sweaty mess. You have beenwarned.”
I pull on the clothes whilst Shawna makes herself at home, sniffing my perfume and looking through the small amount of makeup I’ve brought with me. I smudge on some kohl eyeliner to highlight my blue eyes, add a dash of lip gloss and I amdone.
“What do you think?” Iask.
Shawna grins. “The boys are going to love you! God, I wished I could pull off a look like that. It totally suits you. You’re like Debbie Harry, although a thousand times betterlooking.”
“Thanks, Ithink.”
* * *
Before heading to the club,we stop off at Shawna’s place for an hour to have a few glasses of red wine and to pick up a ski pass she forgot to give me earlier. I take it, but don’t tell her that I’m not planning on doing any skiing. I can barely walk on the snow, let alone ski onit.
Another ten, treacherous minutes’ walk later we arrive at Le Carnaval club. It is not dissimilar to the other surrounding buildings, the only defining difference is a large neon sign that flashes red against the wooden façade. Out front is a large seating area where a load of people are congregating, drinking and smoking. Shawna spots Pierre and pulls me along. I try not to fall on my arse in front of thecrowd.
“Hey everyone, this is Louisa, she’s staying in the Palace at the top of thehill.”
I hear a chorus of hellos before they all turn back to theirconversations.
“Palace?” I ask Shawna, but she’s already gone over to a group of girls and is animatedly chatting away. They laugh, and I wonder whether she is telling them stories about her sex life. They are prettyamusing.
“That’s what the locals call it because it’s so posh,” a guy with smiling blue eyes says. He holds out his hand. “I’m Luke, good to meetyou.”
I take his hand and shake it. “Nice to meet you too,” I say, but it comes out sounding weird because my teeth are chattering so much. Helaughs.
“You’ll acclimatise soon enough. Want to goinside?”
“Sure,” I say. I give a little wave to Shawna and she gives me the thumbsup.
Inside, the club is a hell of a lot warmer than outside and it doesn’t take long for me to regret wearing fake leather trousers. After putting my coat in the cloakroom, Luke takes me to the bar and orders us both a pint of local beer. I don’t actually like beer, but I am too polite to refuse it and murmur my thanks instead. We sit on the barstools, chatting small talk and watching the crowd. He’s nice, but not really my type. For the next half an hour, he tells me how he arrived the same time as Shawna, that he has been coming to the resort every year for the last five years and that there are no better slopes to ski on, in his opinion. I nod my head and smile at all the right times but find myself losing interest pretty quickly. While he drones on about the different slopes and their difficulty grades, my attention turns to the clubinterior.
The lighting in the club is dim, and the dance floor is already heaving with scantily clad girls and sweaty men. There are swathes of red material hanging from the ceiling in folds, like the roof of a circus. In each corner there are dancers dressed in outfits not dissimilar to what you would find people wearing at a carnival in Rio. I briefly wonder how they manage to move in them, let alone dance sofreely.
I am just about to tell Luke I need the toilet when a cute redhead comes over and plonks herself on his lap. She throws me a territorial look and within seconds they start snogging. Feeling decidedly relieved and not in the least bit jealous, I hop off the seat in search ofShawna.
The club is bigger than I thought, and I end up circling it a few times before spotting Shawna in a dark corner sitting astride Pierre. She is laughing hysterically at something he has just said. Half a second later they are kissing. I roll my eyes, take a long drink of my beer, and watch the throng of dancers from my spot at the edge of the dancefloor.
“Can I get you another?” a deep voice says from behind me, making mejump.