"The thing is, Bridget," he said, "skiing is like everything else in life. It's just a question of confidence. Come on. I think you need a grappa."
2.45 p.m. Mmm. Love the delicious grappa.
3 p.m. Grappa is really v.g. top beverage. Mark is right. Am probably marvellous natural at skiing. Only thing need to get blurry confidence up.
3.15 p.m. Top of nursery slope. Argor. This blurry easypeasy. Off go. Wheeeee!
4 p.m. Am marvellous, am fantastic skier. Just came down slope perfect with Mark'whoosh fzzzzzz', whole body swaying, moving in perfect harmony as if instinctive. Wild elation! Have discovered whole new lease of life.
Am sportswoman in manner of Princess Anne! Filled with new vigour and positive thought! Confidence! Hurrah! New confident life ahead! Grappa! Hurrah!
5 p.m. Went for rest to mountain cafe and Mark was suddenly greeted by a whole bunch of lawyery-bankertype people amongst whom tall, thin, blonde girl standing with back to me in white ski suit, fluffy ear muffs and Versace shades. She was hooting with laughter. As if in slow motion, she flicked her hair back off her face, and as it swooshed forward in a soft curtain, I began to realize I recognized her laugh then watched her turn her face towards us. It was Rebecca.
"Bridget!" she said, clinking over and kissing me. "Gorgeous girl! How fantastic to see you! What a coincidence!" I looked at Mark, who was all perplexed, running his hand through his hair.
"Um, it's not really a coincidence, is it?" he said awkwardly. "You did suggest that I bring Bridget here. I mean, delightful to see you all of course, but I'd no idea you were all going to be here too."
One thing that is really good about Mark is that I do always believe him, but when did she suggest it? When? Rebecca looked flustered for a moment, then smiled winningly. "I know, it just reminded me how gorgeous it is in Courcheval, and all the others were coming so ... Oooh!" Conveniently, she 'wobbled over' and had to be caught" by one of the waiting admirers.
"Hmmm," said Mark. He didn't look very happy at all. I stood head down trying to work out what was going on. Eventually could stand the strain of trying to be normal no longer, so whispered to Mark that was just going to have another little go on the nursery slope. Got self in queue for button lift much more easily than usual, just so grateful to be away from weird scenario. Missed first couple of buttons through inaccurate grabbing but managed to get next one.
Trouble was once set off, nothing seemed to be quite right, all bumpy and non-smooth almost as if was scampering. Suddenly was aware of child waving at me from sidelines and yelling something in French. Looked across in horror to caf & balcony to see all Mark's friends shouting and waving as well. What going on? Next thing saw Mark
running towards me frantically from direction of cafe. "Bridget," he yelled as he got within earshot, "you've forgotten to put your skis on."
"Bloody fool," roared Nigel as we returned to the cafe. "Stupidest thing I've seen for years."
"Do you want me to stay with her?" said Rebecca to Mark, all wide-eyed concern - as if I were a troublesome toddler. "Then you can have a good ski before dinner."
"No, no, we're fine," he said, but I could see from his face he wanted to go off and have a ski, and I really wanted him to because he loves skiing. But simply could not face the thought of a skiing lesson from bloody Rebecca.
"Actually, I think I need a rest," I said. "I'll just have a hot chocolate and recover my composure."
Drinking chocolate in the cafe was fantastic, like drinking huge cup of chocolate sauce, which was good because distracted me from sight of Mark and Rebecca travelling up on the chair lift together. Could see her being all gay and tinkly touching his arm.
Eventually they reappeared whizzing down like the Snow King and Queen - him in black and her in white looking like a couple out of an upmarket Chalet brochure in the picture that implies that - as well as eight black runs, 400 lifts and half board - you can have great sex like these two are just about to have.
"Oh, it's so exhilarating," said Rebecca, putting her goggles on her head and laughing into Mark's face. "Listen, do you both want to have supper with us tonight? We're going to have a fondue up the mountain, then a torchlight ski down - A sorry, Bridget, but you could come down in the cable car."
"No," Mark said abruptly. "I missed Valentine's Day so I'm taking Bridget for a Valentine's dinner."
The good thing about Rebecca is there is always a split second when she gives herself away by looking really pissed off.
"Okey-dokey, whatever, have a fun time," she said, flashed the toothpaste advert smile, then put her goggles on and skied off with a flourish towards the town.
"When did you see her?" I said. "When did she suggest Courcheval?"
He frowned. "She was in New York."
I reeled, dropping one of my ski poles. Mark burst out laughing, picked it up and gave me a big hug.
"Don't look like that," he said against my cheek. "She was there with a crowd, I had one ten-minute conversation with her. I said I wanted to do something nice to make up for missing Valentine's Day and she suggested here."
A small indeterminate noise came out of me. "Bridget," he said, "I love you."
Sunday 16 February
Weight: do not care (actually, no scales), number of times replayed sublime L-word moment in head: exorbitant blackhole-type number.