Free Snow Blind by Richard Blanchard

tracks meant to me. It will be like a musical tapestry of my life.” Some of these may also be tracks of my tears, but I prefer the pun.
    â€œCool idea mate, but no Smokey Robinson? Bepe will not thank you for that. Must be a Stevie Wonder track then? Talking of tracks, you had better make some!” Johnny backs away as my brother Chris approaches.
    â€œHave you called home Dan?” Chris interrupts us without consideration of interruption. “I did, when you were taking a dump earlier.”
    â€œNo not had a chance yet. I should probably do it now while I am not too drunk.” Johnny doesn’t mind the intrusion and I go toward the door.
    Juliet is coming back into the bar having presumably also made her call home outside. “Of course I love you, but you will have to wait.” We catch eyes as I move past her but she quickly looks away; embarrassed at expressing these words in front of an ex-lover? Maybe it was just a subconscious old flame feeling. Or does it reveal a deeper betrayal? She does seem relaxed and happy talking to Scott. I have no concept of whether she was ever that way with me.
    I walk quickly under the heated blower above the door to contact my wife-to-be. I leave Marvin Gaye’s 70’s soul to soothe the stags.

C HAPTER 10
    Dan 22.30
    The mountains breathe their chill at me; I seek warmth from my distant home. I seat myself on a wooden bench bar outside, which is carved around the courtyard tree. It is designed for après-skiers, who have probably been enjoying the heat wave of the past few weeks. However, the current wetness of the bench creates a big chill through my backside. I get my phone out to call home but can’t help searching for another track for the playlist. I reach the letter K and abandon it for the night.
    â€œHi Sophia, hi there babe.” She must be able to hear guilt and fear in my stumbling voice. Guilt on not being there and fear of what the coming days bring with the largely mad crew inside.
    â€œI’m reading to Bepe in the bedroom. We are late. It is well after his bedtime.”
    â€œSorry I lost track, should I call back?”
    â€œNo.” Her no means she will accept the call but I should have called at a more suitable time.
    â€œI’m just having a beer with everyone.” I glance through the window; they seem solemn, maybe it’s less fun without the prime target to aim at. Everyone is together though, a good sign I think.
    â€œListen I’m so sorry about earlier. I can’t stop thinking about it. Is Bepe alright?”
    â€œYes, no thanks to…” Sophia tails off from another blame game. She is so strident; she often holds an unjustified sense of injustice.
    â€œWhy don’t you speak to him?” She offers to me gently.
    I hear his breath down the phone first; the receiver distorts it into a bubbly rasp and other ripping noises show he is struggling to hold the phone.
    â€œBepe, it’s Daddy! I’ve been on the big plane haven’t I?” I try to stimulate a response by reminding him of our earlier journey, but I still hear nothing but his purest breath. Having a phone conversation with a toddler is semi-futile. You seek some recognition and dialogue but it is a random collection of thought and noise. However, this minimal response is enough to restore him to me this time. I take comfort in every crumb of his response.
    â€œDaddy loves you and misses you so much Bepe.” Sophia is the unintended recipient of my pleading as she takes the phone from Bepe.
    I hear him now off-cue: “Daddy airplane Mummy, Daddy airplane,” he says insistently, demanding the phone back.
    â€œI know darling, Mummy needs to speak to Daddy now.” He doesn’t return, accepting his lost opportunity.
    â€œWhat did you get to do with your day after the airport?” I hope she has made some progress to lighten her mood.
    â€œI tied up some loose ends. Dad has his wedding suit