Confessions of a Chalet Girl: by Lorraine Wilson

turn in her direction or give any indication he’d heard.
    Choking back a sob, Holly rushed to the bathroom, the only place she could lock the door and make a call in private. Sinking down to the floor, back against the door, she pulled out her phone and dialled.
    ‘Hi.’ Pippa’s voice was sleepy.
    ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ Holly tried to speak quietly so no one else in the chalet would hear her. Silent tears cascaded down her cheeks unchecked. It was as though she had taken her finger out of the hole in a dam and now there was nothing to stop the flood.
    ‘What’s up?’
    Thank God Pippa knew her. Thank God. Holly sobbed aloud then, a gut wrenching, animal type sob escaped despite her desperate attempts to keep it in.
    ‘Holly, talk to me, what’s wrong?’
    ‘I, I … I met someone,’ Holly choked out.
    ‘That's a good start. So what’s the problem then, is he married? Has another girlfriend?’
    ‘No, no, it’s nothing like that.’ Holly snuffled, grabbing some toilet paper to wipe her face. ‘He’s my boss - single, gorgeous and the best well, you know, I’ve ever had…’
    ‘Err, forgive me for not being quick on the uptake but where exactly is the problem?’
    ‘He doesn’t drink.’
    ‘Isn’t that a good thing? After all you don’t like heavy drinkers because of your mum.’ Pippa spoke slowly, as though to someone deeply deranged.
    To be fair 'deranged' was exactly how Holly felt at the moment. The hurt was utterly overwhelming. She tried to tell herself she'd hardly known him long but it didn't help.
    ‘I mean he doesn’t drink because he used to be an alcoholic.’ Holly sniffed and grabbed some toilet tissue to wipe her nose.
    ‘But he’s sober now?’ Pippa asked.
    ‘Yes, but that’s hardly the point.’ Holly couldn't keep the irritation out of her voice. She'd been sure Pippa would understand.
    ‘Why? Isn't it the point? Come on Holly, your mum is completely different. From what you've told me I don’t think she’s ever been sober, has she?’
    ‘No.’ Holly sniffed.
    ‘So, this guy is different. He isn’t drinking now which means he sorted himself out. He runs a business for goodness sake, doesn’t that say something to you about how different he must be to your mum?’
    ‘I suppose.’ Holly shredded the toilet paper in her hands into tiny bits, feeling very young and adrift on the tide of an emotion with the power of a Tsunami to wreck her life. ‘But what if he fell off the wagon? I just can’t go through it, I refuse to go through it again, Pips.’
    ‘I totally understand hun.’ Pippa’s tone was less brusque now. ‘But almost anything
might
happen. You could meet a guy tomorrow who seems perfectly sober but turns to drugs, or drink or other women when he faces some life tragedy. Anyone
might
drink Holly.’
    ‘Maybe.’ Holly drew her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs. The sense of what Pippa was saying seeped into her mind but her emotions lagged way behind, too immersed in the knee jerk reaction they’d instigated.
    ‘Look at it like this,’ Pippa urged. ‘What you hate about your mum is that she never tries to help herself and doesn’t want to. He's clearly the opposite of that and has beaten his demons with alcohol as far as we know. Do you even know if he was a full-blown alcoholic? Did he tell you why he started drinking? If you understood then maybe you’d be able to cope with it better.’
    ‘I don’t think he’ll ever speak to me again.’ The wet tide on Holly’s cheeks increased its pace again.
    ‘Make him listen. He obviously likes you a lot to tell you in the first place. He's your boss after all, so he took a big risk confiding in you. Think about it.’
    ‘I s’pose,’ she sighed. ‘I think I’ve messed up the best relationship I ever could have had.’
    ‘Don’t give up yet Holly, you can do this.’ Pippa’s tone hardened. ‘It really isn't like you to fold so easily.’
    Holly sighed again, a gulping,