Free Confessions of a Chalet Girl: by Lorraine Wilson Page B

multitude of tea-lights.
    ‘Yes please.’ She sat down at the table, her hair falling in wild waves around her shoulders; her face flushed a rosy pink.
    He poured a glass of champagne for her and a glass of mineral water for himself.
    ‘Aren’t you drinking?’ she asked.
    He could lie and say it was because he was driving. They were extremely strict about drivers’ blood alcohol levels in Switzerland.
    But how could he even contemplate lying after what he’d said to her?
    ‘Actually Holly, there’s something I need to tell you.’ He sighed. Of course he couldn’t lie. He needed to be straight with her, even though this was heavy stuff for what was essentially a first date.
    ‘Let me guess, you’re not drinking because you’re pregnant?’ She laughed. When he didn’t smile, a marked apprehension crept into her eyes and he thought it was like clouds blotting out the sunshine.
    Yep, he had it bad.
    ‘Something terrible happened to my family a while ago, a year ago in fact, and it all got rather…well, horrific is the only word that really describes it.’ Scott sighed.
    ‘Oh?’ Holly's face paled and she seemed suddenly fragile in her oversize-toweling robe. Her reaction surprised him, although it was sweet of her to be so concerned.
    ‘I didn’t cope very well. I started drinking heavily as a way of coping and it got out of hand so…’ He broke off she got clumsily to her feet, scraping her chair back roughly as though she couldn’t wait to put some distance between them.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, perplexed. He couldn’t understand her white face, couldn’t understand why she was looking at him like that, as though he’d betrayed her.
    Accusation shone in her green eyes and he felt as shocked as though she'd slapped him.
    ‘I can’t do this Scott. I just can’t.’ Her hands trembled. ‘Please take me back to the chalet now? I’m going to get my clothes.’
    She wouldn’t meet his eye but stared at the floor as she spoke. ‘Sorry, I really mean it. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.’
    Then she turned and fled down the stairs in her eagerness to get away from him.

CHAPTER SIX
    Bile rose in Holly's throat. She felt sick to her bones, far worse than she had earlier in the helicopter. It was so bad she thought she might literally throw up on the side of the road or in the footwell of Scott’s Landrover if he didn’t stop to let her out.
    The grim set of Scott’s jaw and the taut silence between them increased her misery. She’d hurt him badly, she knew she had. The air crackled with unspoken anger and recriminations.
    What more do you expect? He spills his guts to you and you cut him off mid sentence and run away from him?
    You’re lucky he’s giving you a lift home.
    Scott didn’t say a word for the entire drive back to Chalet Repos. She spent the journey trying hard not to cry and concentrating on not being sick as her stomach churned and bitter bile rose up in her throat.
    There was no way round this. She couldn’t do it.
    She would never do it. Dating an alcoholic was her greatest personal taboo. It was perhaps the only criteria that would automatically scratch any guy off of her potentials list.
    Even if they were as drop dead gorgeous as Scott.
    Potentials list, huh! She was lying to herself if she was going to pretend Scott meant no more to her than her previous boyfriends or crushes.
    If it’s the right decision why do I feel so wretched?
    With great effort she held back the tears pressing heavily at her eyelids by squeezing her eyes shut.
    ‘Goodnight.’ She tried to get Scott’s attention as they turned separate ways in the Chalet Repos corridor.
    ‘Goodnight.’
    She shrank bank from the bitterness in his tone. There was a blank hardness to his expression that chilled her. Not only had he put the shutters down between them but he'd brought out the barbed wire and guard dogs too.
    ‘I’m sorry Scott,’ she apologised again to his retreating back but he didn’t