“Get on the damn bike, Sebastian, before I change my mind.”
He grinned and stowed our overnight bag in one of the saddlebags. I was impressed how light we could both travel: something we had in common after all.
We had a quick breakfast of sweet rolls and coffee in a café overlooking the lake, then headed up into the mountains. I was very glad I had my horribly expensive ski gloves to wear, because we hadn’t gone far before I started seeing heaps of snow at the sides of the road. Some were as high as six or seven feet: I assumed they’d been piled up as snowplows cleared the road. A couple of miles later we really began to climb; the tarmac disappeared and we were riding on compressed snow. Sebastian dropped the speed as the hairpin bends began to live up to their name.
The bike wobbled dangerously, and Sebastian pulled to the side of the road. He twisted around and lifted up his visor.
“Baby, you’re going to tip us over if you do that, and I don’t know about you but it looks like a helluva long way down to me.”
“What… what did I do?” I said, nervously looking down the sheer drop.
“You’re trying to sit upright on the bike: don’t. You’ve got to lean into it or the balance goes for shit. Don’t try and do anything, just sit real tight and hang onto me.”
“Okay, good safety tip, Chief: glad you mentioned it.”
His eyes crinkled in a smile, and he snapped the visor down again.
We took off slowly, zigzagging our way up the mountain. The views became more spectacular the higher we climbed, but commensurately more terrifying. My arms were wrapped around Sebastian’s waist with a death-grip that was probably crushing his ribs. I was thankful he couldn’t see my face because half the time my eyes were closed. So much for being fearless; so much for enjoying the view.
Twenty minutes later we reached the highest point of the pass, and Sebastian stopped again. He pulled off his helmet and grinned at me.
“It’s really something, isn’t it?”
Awkwardly, I clambered off the bike, tugging at my helmet and shaking my hair free. Then I turned to look at the view.
“Wow,” I breathed.
Geneva was spread out below us, the lake mirror-like in the chilly sunshine. Disappearing into the valley, I saw the Z-bends that we’d just driven up. Even here, from the safety of the summit, they looked hair-raising; and I still had to make it down the other side. But it was beautiful, too: the air was crystal clear and the sky too blue to be real. I felt grateful to be here, enjoying this moment with this man: second chances didn’t come any better.
“Thank you for this, Sebastian. Thank you for bringing me.”
I leaned against him and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, kissing me softly. I twisted in his arms so I was facing him, and gave his kiss the attention it deserved, expressing my gratitude wordlessly, pouring all my happiness into that one moment.
When I pulled away from him, my face felt flushed, along with other parts of my body. Sebastian’s expression told me that outdoor sex at the top of a mountain pass in the snow was suddenly on his ‘to do’ list.
I stroked his cheek.
“Save it, Chief. We’ve got a long way to go yet.”
He smiled reluctantly and waited while I snapped some photographs, then helped me climb back on the mean machine. We started the descent down through the Alps and towards a new country.
A short while later, Sebastian pointed at a sign that read ‘Italia’. I felt a thrill of excitement ripple through me: at last I was in the country where my dear papa had been born. The idea was fanciful, but in an odd way it felt like coming home.
The border guard gave our passports the briefest of examinations before waving us through with a cheerful smile. I really was in Wonderland.