It began innocently enough, as they checked into their usual hotel.

'Anton, nummer sex und zvantzig!' Frau Müller supervised the young porter as he picked up the cases then turned to her guests.

‘Ah, Herr and Frau Wilkins, welcome again to the Rosenhof. Do you have valuables I can put into the hotel safe?'

‘Oh no, Frau Müller, I left my diamond and ruby necklace with matching tiara at home.’ Frua Müller frowned, but at least Mary's husband, Robert, smiled at the joke

She leaned across the registration book.' A charming Englishman and his wife stay here also. You will share a table at dinner’

Mary glanced at Robert.

‘Herr Hudson is quite famous in your country, I think, said Frau Müller. ‘He is a driver of racing cars, now retired.’

Maybe this would teach Robert to settle for Christmas at home, like their friends, Mary thought, catching his eye.

As she signed the register; Mary heard a voice speaking English; it belonged to a man talking to a hotel employee - trying to make up for his lack of German by increasing the volume.

When they came down for dinner they soon spotted a table with name cards. A slender grey-haired woman in a dark blue dress was sipping noodle soup but she put down her spoon and blotted her lips with a napkin.

‘Ah, you must be Mr and Mrs Wilkins. Frau Müller has told me so much about you. I’m delighted to see other English people.’ The woman’s shrill little laugh revealed a row of small white teeth. ‘Please call me Barbara’ she said, taking up her spoon again. ‘Ah! Here comes my husband.’

Barbara’s husband was the man Mary had seen in reception. Barbara’s junior by a good fifteen years, Mary decided. He came towards them and placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

‘Ah, well done, Barbara. I see you’ve introduced yourself already. He extended a well-manicured hand. ‘I’m Nigel Hudson. Frau Müller tells me you play cards, which is excellent news. ’

How silly, thought Mary, to imagine that just because Barbara was, well, past her first bloom, she couldn’t be married to this blond Adonis. He was young for retirement, but judging by his expensive suit there was no shortage of money.

Nigel told his wife that he’d inspected their ski equipment and was ready for their downhill classes next day. Barbara giggled, as if sharing a thrilling secret with her charismatic spouse.

‘I must say, I admire you’, Mary said. ‘Robert and I just walk and enjoy the scenery. Robert likes to practise his German. It’s one of his hobbies’

‘Speak the lingo, do you?’ Nigel looked impressed. ‘I have to rely on my little interpreter, here, wherever we go.’ He patted Barbara’s hand lightly.

‘Do you travel a lot?’

‘For our Winter breaks, yes. We like to try different places.’ Again, Barbara gave her secretive giggle, and exchanged a glance with her husband.

‘Time for a hand or two of poker before bed-time? suggested Nigel.

‘We prefer bridge, if that’s alright with you,’ said Robert.

‘Shall we say a penny a hundred, then?’ Nigel was all smiles.

Later, a modest ten euros better off, the Wilkins prepared for bed. Mary said, ‘I’m glad you like them, Robert, and we were spared stories of thrills and spills at the race-track. I must say, though, the way they kept flirting with one another rather got on my nerves.’

Nigel was not so good-tempered at dinner next day, as he chopped savagely at a Wiener Schnitzel.

‘What an interfering fool that instructor was – snapping your ski-pole like that.’ He speared a piece of meat.

Barbara chuckled. ‘It was lucky he spotted the crack ’ She took out the little note-book she used for scoring at bridge, and scribbled in it.

In the days that followed, there were further mishaps: Barbara reported swerving to miss a stray toboggan, narrowly missing a tree. Next a ski-lift seat parted from its couplings and fell hundreds of feet into the valley below.

‘Lucky I was on the one behind!’ Barbara glanced at Nigel over her goulash soup, gave her little silvery laugh, then jotted in her note-book.

‘Maybe we’ll raise the stakes tonight, to take our minds off what might have happened’, said Nigel. ‘Sure I can’t tempt you to try poker?’

Robert said no, and Mary wondered at Barbara's good humour. Then, while she was deciding how to respond to a bid, she heard her husband accepting a proposal to join Nigel and Barbara for a sleigh-ride the next evening.

In their bedroom she tugged at her necklace clasp. ‘Robert, I’m not sure about this outing…’

‘But I thought you’d love a romantic horse-driven sleigh through the forest.’

‘It’s just that the Hudsons seems a bit…accident prone,’ she said, slipping into her night-dress.
Next evening after dinner, two sleighs set off, each carrying six passengers and a driver. It was a perfect moonlit night for the drive, the air crisp and still, and Mary felt ashamed of her suspicions. She smiled at Barbara and Nigel sitting opposite, arms entwined.

Mary wished the ride could go on forever, along the path between scented pines, with only the jingling harness bells and the muffled drumming of the horses’ hoofs to break the silence.

When they made a scheduled halt at a hunting lodge, they happily joined in the choruses of yodelling songs, clinking glasses of spiced wine and singing ‘Ein Prosit! Ein Prosit!’ Then Mary, feeling a little tipsy, heard Robert say it was time to go, and felt his protective arms around her as he helped her into the sleigh.

It was ten minutes or so before she realised that the seats opposite were empty.

‘Robert, where are the Hudsons?’

‘Barbara forgot her bag and sent Nigel back for it, but he insisted they stay together. I saw them get into the other carriage as we pulled away.’

As he spoke, there was a loud crack , followed by a sharp jolt, and the horses shied sharply off to the left. They would have bolted if the sleigh hadn’t lodged at an angle in the deep snow on the side of the path. Mary saw that their way was blocked by a huge branch. A shadowy figure darted away into the forest.

‘Are you alright, darling?’ Robert seemed even more shocked than Mary. The sleigh’s runners were firmly lodged in the bank. Unnerved and shaky, they transferred to the other sleigh, which halted some yards behind, while the driver of the damaged vehicle uncoupled the horses.

The Hudsons greeted them with cries of relief, although they seemed oddly exhilarated by the incident. Nigel suggested they all have a game to help them get over the shock when they got back, but as soon as they’d stamped the snow from their boots Robert insisted they go to their rooms

‘Mary, I think it’s best if we leave first thing tomorrow.’

‘Oh, come, now, Robert. You surely don’t think Nigel can have arranged for that branch to fall?’

‘I do. You see, I heard what was called from the other sleigh after the so-called ‘accident’ happened.’

‘What was that?’

'Roughly translated, it was, ‘You fool! You’ve let it go too soon.’

‘Well, if it was in German, it couldn’t have been Nigel. He can’t even order an egg at breakfast.’

‘Precisely. It was a woman’s voice I heard calling out.’
‘What difference does that make?’
Barbara dropped her notebook in the hunting lodge, and I saw what she’d scribbled down. She’s been keeping some kind of score - and not just at bridge.'

‘But what’s the point?’

'I know it sounds incredible, but I think that they are both at it. They're competing to see who can score against the other. It's some kind of perverted game'

‘But that’s absurd. They might both have been killed tonight.’

'not if Barbara had been in the sleigh behind as she intended, when she tried to delay by fetching her handbag. Only Nigel would have been in danger – and us! If you don't mind, I think we'll quit whilst we're ahead’

As they waited to check out next morning, however, they saw two uniformed policemen escorting the Hudsons into a waiting car. They were too surprised to respond to Barbara’s wave, or to Nigel’s embarrassed scowl as he tried to shake off the officer’s hand on his arm.

Frau Müller came into the lobby and sat down heavily behind the counter. She began to fan herself with a train timetable. Anton stepped forward with a glass of water, and a man who introduced himself as Detective Inspector Frisch, asked if he could speak to the Wilkins.

'Frau Müller tells me you knew those people, Herr Wilkins', the policeman began, as soon as they were seated in the office behind the reception desk.
‘You mean the Hudson?’ Robert said.

'Hudsons, Harrisons –they use a whole string of false names. They check into hotels throughout Austria, sometimes much grander than the Rosenhof, gain the confidence of wealthy holiday-makers and then trick them into losing heavily at poker. It's fortunate that you held out so long. They were about to give up and move on - without paying their bill, of course.’

Barbara felt suddenly cold. ‘Then why …’

‘Oh, don’t alarm yourself, dear lady. The accidents were all made up –did you witness any of them?’

‘Well, no…but what about the sleigh-ride? ‘That was genuine;we were there!’

‘Ah, yes- the sleigh-ride’. The Inspector snapped shut his notebook. 'It’s usually the last 'accident' . The drivers are well-paid. The victims are shaken up enough to be persuaded to raise the stakes at the tables. Maybe they still hoped you’d change to the game in which they are expert cheats.’

‘Well, Robert and I knew all along there was something odd going on, Inspector. Besides, we aren't very wealthy.' It was best not to mention her ‘joke’ about the diamonds.
There were no more Winter breaks after that. They agreed it was much less trouble to stay home and celebrate Christmas properly. ‘Bridge has more than enough thrills for me,’ Robert said, ‘especially with your reluctance to play out the trumps, Mary.’