“So what are you going to do kiddo?” Dad queried as we prepared to leave the bahn cabin at the summit station.

Good question, I’d like to practice my new plank directing skills all the way to the bottom but to be brutally honest, the wrist is throbbing somewhat, even after over an hour’s break from really doing anything.

“Think I’ll ski down to the mid station and see what I feel like there?”
“That’s fine, I think your Mum and a few of the others are keen to ski all the way down so we’ll leave them to do that, the rest of us can take it a bit steadier.”
“’kay.”
 
“Lets get a picture people,” George requested.

We’d been admiring the view from the top, well its not often that you get the chance to look out over the marching alpine peaks from the Ahrtal. Everyone sorted themselves out, of course, being vertically challenged I was front and centre, Katy to one side, Tina the other. We grinned like idiots as George did his thing and even got into a couple of shots thanks to another mountain tourist.

“Please be careful everyone, no heroics eh?” George instructed a few minutes later as we snapped into ski bindings, adjusted, hats, gloves and eyewear or applied lip balm.
“We’ll be careful Bossman,” Mum stated, “see you at the bottom.”

With that she did one of those helicopter turns and pushed off down the slope.

“Hey!” Erika complained.
“Cheat!” Anja added even as they set off in pursuit.
George did a very Gallic shrug, “your wife, every time Dave, see you at the bottom.”

That left just Dad, Kat, Tal and myself to make our way down the mountainside, we pushed off and started our descent.

“Okay?” Dad enquired after we’d been going for a few minutes.

Kat and Tal were getting a bit ahead of us already, maybe I should’ve gone down in the cablecar.

“I’ll get there, just not quickly, you go on ahead if you want.”
“I’m not leaving you up here alone.”
“Hardly alone,” I pointed out, it might be midweek and quite early in the season but the mountain was pretty busy with plank riders, mostly pairs but a few snowboarders were cutting down the slope too – that really is for the terminally daft!
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Yes Dad,” I sighed, “theres no need for the others to hang back though, they’ve stopped twice already to wait for me.”
“Hmm.”
“You could catch them up, tell them to go on and wait for me to come down.”
Pater weighed this up, “okay, just take it steady eh?”
“Yes Daddy,” geez, parents, you’d think I was like five.
 

Oh I know what I said to Dad about not being alone on the mountain but it suddenly hit me, I am, for the first time, on my own, on skis on an actual mountain. It’s kind of liberating. Okay, so the others are only a short way ahead but even so, I don’t feel compelled to try and match anyone.

That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to, just that I’m being a bit cautious, I don’t want to fall on my bad arm after all. Of course my progress is hampered a bit with my lack of technique, all around me plank riders were swishing about effortlessly, here I am, like a tractor on the autobahn, making progress but not exactly quickly. I decided to try a bit of the slaloming stuff, Mathius did show us the other day but we didn’t really get a chance to have a go.

Okay then, skis together, bend the knees. I whooshed left then swapped to the right, much more elegant than the stiff legged, plough controlled descent I had been making and somehow my wrist didn’t feel quite as ‘tight’ and achy. I spotted the others down to my right, not actually that far in crow distance but the marked run took a more meandering route to get there. Hmm, I could catch them up if I go straight down, it must be okay, there are plenty of peeps doing it.

It went well for the first couple of turns but of course it’s quite steep and my lack of skill made itself apparent on turn three. I made the turn but the tip of my inside plank ended up hooked on the other ski, so of course I panicked a bit which made it worse and the next moment I was pin wheeling down the slope. Oof! I slammed onto the snow and slid to a stop, winded but on first take, not injured.

There was a swish of skis as someone arrived above me.

“Are you okay?”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, do you speak English?”

My brain suddenly made the connection, the voice which seemed vaguely familiar, was speaking English, something I don’t do that often these days.

“Um yeah.”

I sat myself up and started to brush snow off myself.

“I saw you go down, quite impressive I have to say.”
“I like to make a show of things.”
“Are you alright?”
“Er I think so, if I can get these flippin’ things off my feet.”
“Let me, Will by the way.”
“Gaby,” I allowed, “we’ve met before.”
“Have we?” he queried as he released his own skis in advance of untangling me.
“Unless I’m mistaken, big wedding in Munich last year, you trod on my feet.”
“I think I trod on the feet of lots of frauleins,” he admitted, “Kate’s always complaining about my dancing skills.”

He freed my skis which allowed me to cautiously get to my feet and lift my goggles up.

“Pleh!” I got out as more snow cascaded from my head.

My rescuer chortled as I tried to sort myself out.

“Its not nice to laugh at the afflicted.”
“Sorry but the faces you were pulling,” I think his grey matter made connections then, “hang on, I do remember you, you’re related to the Taxis lot right?”
“Er not exactly.”
“You were with them though?”
“My boyfriends family.”

There was another swoosh of skis behind me, “everything okay Sir?”
“Fine Charlie, just rescuing a damsel in distress.”
“Is the young lady okay, is assistance required Sir?”
“I don’t think so, Gaby?”
“Er, I don’t think so Your Highness.”
He started chortling again, “Priceless, only a German, no one calls me that at home even, think we’re fine Charlie.”
“Very well Sir.”
 
“So Gaby not Taxis,” the second in line to the English throne started*, “what brings you to Davos?”
“Von Strechau, it’d be von Strechau,” I suggested, “I’m on a training camp.”
“I’m guessing its not a ski team?”
“Cycling, I’ve only learnt to ski this week.”
“It does sort of show, you’re not on your own are you?”
“No, the others are further down, I’m supposed to meet up at the Mittelbahnhof. What about you, Kate with you?”
“Not this time, don’t think she’s really a fan of this place but I like it, Mum and Dad used to bring us.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, I know all that stuff happened a while back but even so.

“Well I guess I ought to get going or they’ll wonder where I’m at.”
“Fancy some company? We were heading off anyway, maybe I can give you some tips?”
“You don’t have to.”
“You’re right, I don’t have to but I’d be failing in my duty not to at least offer, but in any case I could do with some company.”
“Well if you can live with being seen with me I guess I can stand the offer., danke William”
“You Germans are always so formal, just Will between us eh? So lets get you back on the skis.
 
The Prince is of course an accomplished skier, well you’d expect at least competence after what, twenty years of skiing. He guided me down to the piste proper, clearly I’m not up to going off piste, and we started to descend, I’m guessing Charlie and whoever else were close behind but giving us some space. Turns out my attempts at slalom were really lacking in technique, it’s a wonder I hadn’t come a cropper before I did.

We chatted about nothing much, skiing of course and the quality of food in the mountain restaurants, nothing exactly personal. He’s quite good company but I already knew that from Munich, its like being with that relation you see at births, deaths and marriages, you start off a bit wary but you are soon swapping stories like best buddies. But all good things must come to an end and the Jakobshornbahn mittel station hove into view.

I spotted Dad and indicated we head over to him.

“I was getting worried kiddo.”
“I got into a bit of a tangle, Will came to my rescue.”
“You’re okay?”
“Yes Dad, sorry, this is Will Wales, Will my Dad, Dave Bond.”
“Nice to meet you Herr Bond.”
“Thanks for rescuing my daughter Will, she seems to need a lot of rescuing lately,” Pater suggested in English.
“Dad!”
“Well you do munchkin, look what happened yesterday.”
“Will doesn’t want to hear about my woes,” I suggested.
“We thought she’d broken her wrist yesterday,” Dad motored on.
“The brace, I should’ve realised it was something like that, well anyway, I should get on, I’m sure Charlie and the lads want to get back to the chalet for a drink or two, nice to see you again Fraulein von Strechau.”
“And you oh and tell Kate I said hi.”
“I will, enjoy the rest of your camp.”

 
“Was that who I think it was?” Dad enquired in low tones as we waited for a cabin to take us down to Davos.
“Who do you think it was?”
“His gran is on English postage stamps?”
“Might be,” I smirked.
“And how pray, does my daughter know the future King?”
“I said, I fell over doing a turn and he came to check that I was okay.”
“That’s today, he said it was good to see you again.”

Damn, not much gets past Dad does it?

I sighed, “you remember that wedding I went to last year?”
“Which one, you went to a few.”
“The first one, in Munich, well Will and Kate were there.”
“And you just happened to get talking?”
“Not exactly, we danced at the reception.”
“You danced with Prince William!”
“Shush!” I suggested, “he danced with lots of people, it was a wedding.”
“And you didn’t think to mention it before now?”
“What was there to mention?”
“Any other teenage girl would’ve been crowing from the rooftops.”
“It was only a dance, its not like he asked me to have his babies.”
“I should flippin hope not!” Dad shot back.
“The cabin’s here.”

“You aren’t gonna say anything are you Dad?” I asked as we walked towards the ski shop to turn in our borrowed kit.
“Should i?”
“Please?”
“What about your mother?”
“Especially Mum, you know what she’s like, I danced with him at a wedding and he escorted me down the mountain today, that’s all there is.”
“So what do we tell everyone?”
“If it even comes up,” I pointed out, “I’ll just say I fell over and some guy stopped to see I was okay then escorted me to the cable car, it’s the truth after all.”
 

I’m not quite sure how but despite my interlude on the piste we’d still got there before the rest of them, well excepting Kat and Tal. Not that we had to wait that long but the light was starting to go in the valley bottom by the time they turned up, a hen party fuelled with adrenalin.

“You look kernackered,” I opined when Mand came in with Gret.
“That was flippin’ hard work.”
“But fun,” Gret added, “you guys been here long?”
I shrugged, “fifteen?”
“Not too bad then, how’s the wrist?”
“Bit sore,” I admitted, “so who won?”
“Katy even with your mum cheating.”
“Cheating?”
“Cutting corners,” Mand advised.
 

A few minutes later we were back in the car to start our journey back to the Weisses Kreuz.

“Your Dad says you had a tumble on the way down,” Mum suggested.

Da-ad!

“Er yeah, got my skis crossed, it didn’t end well.”
“Good job that chap stopped to help eh?”
“I wasn’t hurt.”
“He didn’t have to stop.”
“No,” I agreed.
“So was he a hunk?” Manda pursued the subject.

For someone who isn’t interested in boys she’s always going on about ‘hot’ guys.

“Okay I guess, nothing special.”
“Hey Jenny, did you see that guy up near the top in the white jacket? I swear, he was the spitting image of Prince William,” Tina called over.
“Can’t say as I noticed,” Mum replied.
“He wouldn’t be here now would he?” I opined.
“Guess not but this bloke certainly looked like him,” Fraulein Porsche offered.
 

By the time we got back to the autobahn it was fully dark which had me dozing behind Mum who had fallen to slumbers call not far out of Davos – I guess it’s the mountain air – or she’s getting old! Not sure what it was but something brought me back to consciousness with a bit of a start.

“Where are we?”
“Middle of Feldkirch,” Dad allowed, “be about five minutes to the hotel.”
“’kay.”
“You’d best wake Mand up.”
“’ready awake,” Mand offered as she did the whole spidey stretch thing.

We’d beaten the bus back of course but not by a lot so dinner remained scheduled for seven thirty which gave us enough time to get a shower before going down. Things were a little calmer this evening, I think everyone was feeling the effects of our day in Davos. Not that it stopped dinner being consumed, tonight it was a local take on a Spanish omelette served with Kasespätzle and some green stuff.

I wouldn’t say I had high expectations when I saw it but it tasted okay and was certainly filling, the slice of custard strudel for dessert was however the highlight of the meal. As we’ve come to expect, George got our attention as the table staff distributed the after dinner coffee.

“everyone recovered?”

There were a few mumbles to the contrary.

“I’ll not keep you from your beds then,” the Boss continued, “tomorrow, longish ride up through the mountains, the forecast is dry but cold so we shouldn’t have a repeat of Wednesday. We’ll go as one group, we got into a bit of a mess with that too.”

“What time?” Erika asked.
“We’ll aim for nine, we will stop for coffee on the way round but you don’t need me to remind you to have a good breakfast. We should be back mid-afternoon so you will have some personal time before dinner, which I’m led to believe will be a special farewell menu. Questions?”
“How far is it tomorrow?” Tal enquired.
“About one twenty,” Dad told us, “nothing too exacting.”
“Heard that before,” I mumbled to Gret.
“Gaby, you want to share?”
“Just saying that it sounds a good day.”

Never misses a trick.
 

“Cards again?” Tal queried as we left the dining room.
“No beer though, I’m done in,” Mand admitted.
“Hey Ron, cards?” I called over to my former right hand girl.
“Yeah why not,” she agreed.
“Any chance of coffee?” Mand asked.
“And there’s me thinking its my company you wanted, instead its my coffee machine, good job I brought plenty of beans.”
“We can get some more tomorrow,” I suggested.
“Whatever, which room?”
“Cards are in ours,” Gret volunteered.
“Ten minutes?”
“’kay,” I agreed.
 
When we reconvened we’d all lost our team dresses in favour of bed wear, well its only us, its not like we’re in the Stube or anything is it? Ron arrived with her coffee machine and soon the aroma of good Arabica beans flavoured the air of room two one five as the card school got underway. As you know, I’m not exactly a card shark so after a couple of games of Pontoon I sat out to leave the hardened players to it. I read Tali’s magazines then I have to admit to falling asleep.

“Gab.”
“Hmm, ‘s’matter Will?”
“Bed girl.”
“’ready sleep.”
“Gis a hand Ron.”
“She’s well out of it, who’s Will?”
“No idea,” Mand admitted.
“Where going?”
“To our room.”
“We got a room Willy?”

© Maddy Bell 22.03.2019

*Due to the death of Her Majesty, Elizabeth II 3 days before this was posted, William is now of course, heir to the British throne.