One Foot Onto the Ice (16 page)

“You don’t.”

Susan frowned. “Should I trust you?”

“Probably not.”

Susan laughed at Jenna’s honest response. “Does this usually work
with your women?”

“I don’t usually have in-depth conversations like this. I’ve told
you. You connect with someone, you enjoy the experience, and you see where it
goes.”

Susan leaned forwards. “But it never goes anywhere!”

Jenna laughed. “It does! Why are you putting me under such
pressure?”

“It doesn’t! You said it yourself, you’ve not really had
girlfriends and I can’t for the life of me understand why. All I can guess is
that you get bored, or you feel trapped, or you get scared of commitment, or
monogamy, or both.”

“I’m twenty-six. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“So you’re not averse to falling in love? Truly falling in love
and staying with one woman.”

Jenna widened her eyes. “No. Not at all … But she has to be special.”
She sighed. “It sounds stupid, but I want the dream. I don’t want to settle for
anything less.”

 Susan was deeply intrigued. “And what’s the dream?”

“Can we just join the chair-affair club instead?”

“No. What’s the dream?”

Jenna exhaled heavily and turned her head, staring forwards at the
never ending line of cable cars that were being pulled up the mountain. “I want
to meet the one. I want to know she’s the one without having to ask myself the
question.” She shrugged and turned back around. “It’s a cliché but I want to
find my soul mate: the person who’ll complete me.”

“And you don’t think you’ve found her yet?”

“Of course not. That’s why I have fun and enjoy myself.” She
reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the small silver hip flask. “Someone
told me that love comes when you least expect it.” She unscrewed the lid as
carefully as her thick ski gloves would allow and took a sip. “But to be honest
I never expect anything from anyone anyway.” She passed the flask over to
Susan. “I’m one of those
if you want something done, do it yourself
,
type of people.”

Susan took hold of the flask but didn’t drink. “Who was she? This
woman who broke your heart?”

“What?”

“I’m guessing you were early twenties? She was your first true
love? She let you down? Or mistreated you? Or left you for someone else? And now
you’re deeply scarred and very scared of letting anyone get close to you in
case it happens all over again.”

“As if!” laughed Jenna, taking back the hip flask. She lifted it
to her lips and sipped again. “Can I tear your persona to shreds now?”

Susan reached for the alcohol. “I didn’t have any, and that’s not
what I’ve done.” She lifted the flask and smelt the wonderfully sweet aroma of
cherries. “But human behaviour fascinates me. There’s always a reason that
explains why people end up the way they do.”

“Uh-huh,” said Jenna, watching Susan take a dainty little sip,
“and what’s yours?”

Susan returned the flask and sighed. “That’s easy. I have the ugly
duckling syndrome. You remember what I looked like at school? I was awkward and
gangly and no one ever really spoke to me.”

“I did.”

“Only occasionally. Yes, you were kind to me, but we weren’t
friends. I never had close friends. Us geeky girls stuck together, but we all
knew the truth.”

“Which was?”

“We were outcasts.”

Jenna reached over and shook Susan’s thigh. “Oh I wish we could go
back. I’d be your friend.”

Susan smiled. “You’re more than making up for it now.” She
shrugged. “But seriously, I had my confidence knocked.” She shook her head.
“No, scratch that, I’ve never really found my confidence. I kept myself to
myself at school, then I went off to Cambridge where it was easy to hide away
in the library and be that quiet, studious young woman. I passed my exams and
headed back to St Wilf’s to do my PGCE.”

“What about that guy? The one you tried to have sex with?”

Susan laughed. “We did have sex … eventually.” She paused,
remembering. “It was underwhelming.”

“But that must have boosted your confidence? Interest from a guy?”

“Not really. He suffered with erectile dysfunction.”

Jenna burst out laughing. “Oh, babe, I’m not sure who’s more tragic.”

“So you agree you’re tragic then? You’re aware you’re not in the
place you want to be?” Susan had her eyes directly on Jenna.

Jenna snapped her fingers in her gloves. “Damn, you’re too sharp
for me.” She smiled a genuine, but slightly sad, smile. “I’m having fun. It’s
fun. But sometimes I might … possibly ... maybe … yearn for a bit more.” She
shrugged. “Oh I don’t know. I guess I’m looking for that deep connection. That
something special. But I’m not going out of my way to try and find it. Women
can be so complex and emotional and I like to keep things simple.” She shifted
slightly in her seat, well aware that her bottom would be completely numb by
the time they reached the top. “But we were talking about you, missy! So, you
were an ugly duckling when you were younger, but now you’re a swan. Please tell
me you’ve figured that out?”

“I’m hardly a swan. I’m more like a moorhen. You know, those
little black water birds that dart around nervously, keeping themselves to
themselves. They’re interesting to look at for short periods of time, but
they’re nothing special.”

Jenna shunted in as close as she could. “You are special, Susan. I
just wish you could see that.”

Susan smiled. “And you are worth more than the countless random sexual
encounters you insist upon having.”

Jenna resisted the temptation to answer back, choosing instead to lean
forwards and kiss Susan gently.

Susan felt the warm, sweet taste of Jenna’s mouth on her own. She
closed her eyes, instantly oblivious to the whirring wires above them and the
distant sound of skiers carving through the snow. All Susan could hear was her
heartbeat. She was totally consumed in the kiss. Jenna’s lips were pushing
harder, her tongue was exploring deeper and their moaning was getting louder.
Susan pulled away and gasped. “We just see where it goes?”

“We just see where it goes,” whispered Jenna, moving straight back
into their embrace.

Chapter Fourteen

Champagne snorted, “This just tops it all off! We spent the
morning getting told off by Hugo, the afternoon getting stuck on a chairlift,
and now we have to spend the evening with that bunch of chavs from Manchester.”

Jenna tried to stifle her laughter. “Chavs?”

“Yeah that boy with the fake gold chains and that girl with the diamante
tracksuit. What are the comp kids doing here?”

“They’ve come to ice skate like us. This is a public rink,
Champagne. It must be their designated evening activity.”

Champagne flung her huge pink cashmere scarf over her shoulder and
looked onto the ice. “He keeps staring at me. It’s freaking me out.”

Jenna took another step forwards in the queue and lifted her hands
to the large open air rink. “Most people are staring at you, Champagne. It’s
not often they see a woman dressed head to toe in skin tight pink.”

“I look good though, don’t I?”

Jenna smiled. “Pink’s always good. Tell me about Hugo. It wasn’t
that bad, was it?”

Champagne rolled her eyes and sucked the cool evening air through
her nostrils. “It was horrific. We had to stay in a line, at ALL times. We had
to do what he told us, at ALL times, and we had to say WHOOP every time we
lifted one millimetre off the ground on those crappy little jumps.”

Jenna laughed. “You wanted to go.”

“Yes, because you made the penguin play park sound like the second
coming.” Champagne narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t want to get rid of us, did
you?”

Jenna nudged the teenager’s arm and pointed at a couple of women
who were skating around the corner and happening to glance their way. “Not a
chance. I get so much attention when I’m with you, Champagne.”

Priggy put her packet of bon-bons back in her pocket and turned
around in the queue. “I wish you were a teacher at St Wilf’s, Jenna. You’re so
easy to talk to.”

Jenna shook her head. “I’d find it difficult to be strict. I’d get
told off for gossiping with you girls too much.”

“Plus she’s far too cool,” added Champagne. “Compare her to Quinny.”
Champagne was taller than everyone else in the queue but she still lifted
herself onto her tiptoes and nodded towards her teacher who was standing at the
front and directing proceedings. “Look, Quinny’s opted for the dad jeans and …
three guesses … that lilac fleece.” She dropped back down onto her heels and
turned to Jenna. “While Jenna here’s got the snow-chic style down to
perfection.”

Priggy nodded. “You are seriously funky, Jenna. Your belt matches
your beanie and I’m sure I saw Rihanna wearing those combats in a magazine last
week.”

“I live out here, I shop out here. I just buy what’s around.”

Champagne frowned. “Does Madam Quinn live above BHS?”

Priggy slapped her friend’s arm. “Don’t be cruel.”

Jenna followed Priggy in Susan’s defence. “She’s fine. She dresses
like most of the teachers we get out here.”

“You don’t think there’s something going on with her and Professor
Ramsbottom, do you?” asked Priggy far too hopefully.

Jenna shoved her hands into her pockets and stepped in closer.
“Listen, ladies, I’m going to give you some big sister advice. Work with people
you like. Get a job in a profession where you think the people are hot. Fifty
percent of relationships start in the workplace and eighty percent of affairs
happen in the workplace.”

Priggy looked horrified. “So they’re at it?”

“No, I’m just saying you should choose your profession wisely.”

Champagne smiled and dropped her arm over Jenna’s shoulder. “You
would be a great teacher. No one’s ever given us career advice like that before.”

Priggy frowned. “So you’re telling us to avoid a career in an old
people’s home. Eugh, you wouldn’t want an affair then, would you?”

Champagne rolled her eyes. “No, she’s just telling us to make sure
there are other hot people in our profession.” She grinned and nodded towards
the ice where a pink-haired Amber was trying to get Jenna’s attention. “Like her.
Ha! No wonder you’re a ski rep with all of these funky women around.”

“You’ve busted me, Champagne. No, sorry I shouldn’t be saying that,
Amber’s just a colleague. See, I’d be a crap teacher. I’m far too
inappropriate.” She glanced up and saw the waving for herself. “Give me a
second, girls, she wants me for something.”

“Eighty percent of affairs, Jenna,” whistled Champagne.

Jenna laughed at the banter as she stepped out of the queue and
walked past the benches towards the ice. Amber was leaning over the barrier and
looking rather anxious. “Everything okay?” asked Jenna.

Amber shook her head. “I haven’t heard from you. What’s going on?
What did Quiffy say? Is she going to report us?”

“What?”

“Last night, the bar, your tongue in my—”

“Right, no, she’s fine, it’s fine. Don’t call her Quiffy.”

Amber huffed and blew a cloud of cold air towards Jenna. “Less
than twenty-four hours and you’ve forgotten what we got up to. I’ve been
worrying about it all day.”

“Worrying about what?”

“That she’d tell! That she’d report us for inappropriate behaviour.”

Jenna shook her head. “No, Susan’s not like that. It’s fine.”

Amber ran a gloved hand through her hair. “How do you know? Has
she said anything? I’m really scared, Jenna. I’ve had two warnings already this
season. If I get another I’m out of a job.”

Jenna laughed. “Two? What was the second one for?”

“Oh, nothing really. I gave my number to that really hot sixth
form boy. Remember him from that school in London?”

“The footballer?”

“Yeah, Chelsea Under 21s, he’s bound to make it big. Anyway we
swapped numbers, started to text, you know how it is.”

“And that’s not allowed?”

Amber looked down to the ice and started to chip away with the tip
of her skate. “Oh I don’t know. His dad found some pictures on his phone and reported
me to Club Ski.”

“Amber, you’re worse than me.”

“No one could be worse than you.” Amber leaned further forwards
over the barrier. “But seriously, Jenna, I’m scared.”

“Of Susan?”

“Yes. She saw us in full flow. I’m scared that she’ll tell.”

Jenna looked back over her shoulder and noticed that Champagne and
Priggy were nearly at the front of the queue. “She won’t. I’ve got to go and
get my skates.”

“How do you know? People like her always tell. They never do bad
things and they’re always waiting for other people to trip up.”

“Don’t stereotype. She’s not like that.”

“Yeah right. The worst thing she’s ever done is quiff in her
teacher’s face.”

Jenna gasped. “Amber, you can’t say that! I wish I’d never told
you.”

“Who cares? It’s true. Women like her don’t make mistakes. They don’t
have enough adventure or excitement in their lives to make the wrong choices.”

“What?”

“It’s true, she’s going to tell. I know it and I’m going to lose
my job and I’ll have to go back home and work in my sister’s crappy hair salon.”

“Susan’s not like that.”

“Oh here we go again. What is it with you and her?”

“Amber, she’s not going to tell. She’s made mistakes of her own.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

“See, she hasn’t, you’re just trying to make me feel better, but
you won’t.” She shook her head. “I’m shitting my pants here, Jenna.”

Jenna looked back towards the skate booth and spotted Champagne
and Priggy taking off their shoes. She turned back to Amber and whispered. “Fine.
She left a girl at the service station. We had to go back and pick her up.”

“No way! Susan did?” Amber was open mouthed. “Fuck! That’s
serious. Has she been disciplined?”

Jenna shook her head. “We managed to keep it under wraps. Marcus
doesn’t even know. I said I’d left my phone there and we went back for her. We
sneaked her onto the coach while the others were having a group photo.”

Amber blew out a huge puff of cold air. “Fuck. Who was it? Won’t
they tell?”

“It was the little albino girl. She wasn’t aware either. Honestly
Amber, Susan was really, really lucky, so she’s hardly going to go around tittle
tattling on the rest of us.”

“Fuck, totally. Lucky us, hey?” Amber smiled, instantly back to
her cocky self. “Does that mean we can have a re-run?”

Jenna pushed her on the shoulder back onto the ice. “No, go back
to your school. I need to get my skates on.”

“See you in a minute,” said Amber, smiling. “I’ll hold your hand
if you’re lucky.”

“I think you might be needed elsewhere.” Jenna nodded towards the
other side of the rink where a fight had broken out. “That’s your lot, isn’t
it?”

“Fucking comprehensives,” moaned Amber, pushing off from the side
and speeding across the ice.”

Jenna turned around and jogged towards the front of the queue.
“Sorry, ladies, drama with the Mossyside crew.”

“Everything okay?” asked Susan pretending she hadn’t been glued to
Jenna and Amber’s interaction at the side of the rink.

“Yes, fine, are we the last?” She looked down at Susan’s shoes
that were still firmly on. “You are skating, aren’t you?”

“She says she can’t,” shouted Champagne, tottering carefully on
her blades towards the ice.

Jenna kicked off her shoes and lifted them to the counter. “Who
cares? I’ll help you.”

Susan handed the second to last ticket to the flustered French
girl who hadn’t a clue whose shoes were whose or how many children had made
their way onto the ice. “I’ve already had that offer and for once it seems like
he’s not exaggerating.” Susan nodded towards Marcus who was gracefully skating
around the rink with his hands behind his back. They both watched as he
performed a perfect axel jump and proceeded to weave backwards between the
other skaters. “He’ll have his hands all over me.”

“Get your shoes off. You don’t need him.”

“You’ll help me?”

Jenna took the outstretched skates from the French woman and
walked towards the bench. “I’ll get you a zimmer.”

“What’s a zimmer?”

“
Mademoiselle?
” The French lady had her hand out.

Susan sighed and passed over the final ticket, bending down to
untie her laces. She lifted her sensible shoes to the counter and took the
battered pair of skates in return. She made her way to the bench and sat down
next to Jenna. “What’s a zimmer?”

Jenna made the final adjustments to her laces and clomped over to
the locker area where there was a wide range of stability aids. She lifted the most
basic metal-framed one and hobbled back over to Susan, giving her best impression
of an old woman. “H-h-here little g-g-girl, you can u-u-use my z-z-zimmer frame
i-i-if you l-l-like.”

Susan burst out laughing. “That’s it. I’m not going on.”

Jenna nodded over her shoulder. “Or they’ve got penguins.”

“I’ll look like an idiot with either of them.”

Jenna pointed onto the ice. “Look, Daisy’s got one. So has Eugenie
Rohampton.”

“I’d rather take Marcus.”

“Really?”

“No.” Susan smiled. “Will you hold my hand?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” said Jenna, grinning.

****

Champagne Willington danced across the ice, making sure she lifted
her head that little bit higher each time she passed the Mossyside gang. The
boy with the wide-peaked cap and huge gold chains was still staring and now the
girl with the diamante tracksuit had her hand on her hip as if assessing her
ability.

“You have flair,” complimented Marcus gliding up alongside his
student.

Champagne looked down at the little man. “You’re better at this
than skiing, Professor.”

“I’ll have you know that my skiing ability has been greatly
overlooked thus far, but I’m sure I’ll be with you ladies by the end of the
week.”

“Yay,” muttered Champagne through gritted teeth.

“So what do you women talk about on the slopes all day then?”

“Stuff.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Not you,” stated Champagne.

“Ah yes, she’s good at that. Madam Quinn likes to keep things
private.”

Champagne felt the rush of air first and heard the gritty Manchester
accent second. “He botherin’ you?”

Champagne glanced to the left, taken aback by the proximity of the
boy with the gold chains and wide-peaked cap, noticing that he wasn’t that bad
looking after all. “It’s fine.”