One Foot Onto the Ice (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

The lonely taxi ride back to the guesthouse had been slow and
subdued and Susan had spent most of the time absentmindedly staring out of the window
at the heavy gritting lorry that was leading the way up the winding roads towards
the resort. Susan’s eyes had been fixed on the salt that was spitting out from
the rotating sprays, but she hadn’t been paying any real attention at all. All
she’d wanted to do was get back to her room and soak in the bath. The day had
been long and stressful and she still had that awful gnawing feeling in the pit
of her stomach telling her that she’d done something wrong.

Susan paid the driver and crunched through the snow. The saviour
in the Ski-doo had taken charge of their skis and promised they’d find their
way back to the guesthouse, but with no alternative footwear, Susan had spent most
of the day in her heavy ski boots and they were really starting to ache. She
reached the large wooden door of the guesthouse and lifted the latch, relieved
to find it was still unlocked. She stepped into the dimly lit porch area and
moved her fingers to the out-of-place electric keypad that had been drilled into
the ancient timber beam halfway up the wall. She entered the code and heard the
second door click open. She stepped into the warmth of the entrance hall and
closed the door behind her. She paused. The only way to the stairs was through
the dining room and bar area and Susan found herself holding her breath as she crossed
the hall and pushed open the door, exhaling quickly as she realised the
multi-purpose room was empty. She walked across the carpet as quietly as she
could, contemplating for a second whether she should stop and help herself to a
shot of something strong from the bar.

“Yes is
zee
answer,” said Sylvie, popping up from behind
the counter.

Susan jumped. “Sylvie, you’re up late.”

The elderly French woman sniffed. “
Non
, everyone go to bed
early. Sit down. We need to talk.”

Susan glanced at her watch. “It’s been a long day, Sylvie. I’d
really rather get off to bed. But thank you for the offer.”

“
Non
,” said Sylvie, reaching for a small glass and filling
it with brandy. “Sit. You need to relax.”

Susan walked over to the tall chairs and bent down to unbuckle her
ski boots. “Maybe one won’t hurt.”

“You’re right. It won’t
‘urt
, but you are in danger of
‘urting
my Jenna.”

Susan looked up. “Me?!”

“Yes, you.” Sylvie banged the small glass onto the counter.
“Drink.”

Susan pulled her feet out of her boots and wiggled her toes,
enjoying the sense of freedom and smiling briefly before realising that Sylvie
was staring at her with a very scrunched up face. “Sorry,” she whispered as she
hastily climbed onto the tall stool.

“Drink.”

Susan lifted the glass and knocked it back in one swift action,
inhaling sharply as the sweet tasting alcohol shot to the back of her throat.
“Better?” she gasped.

Sylvie’s face softened slightly. “I can see why she likes you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you are strange.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

Sylvie reached for the bottle of brandy and refilled Susan’s
glass. “Yes. She has too many of these,
‘ow
you say it,
bimbozos
.”

“Bimbos?”

“Yes. You offer more.”

Susan lifted the glass and sipped more slowly this time. “I don’t
think I offer her anything, apart from a challenge maybe.”

“
Non, non, non,
” Sylvie’s face was screwed up once more,
“Jenna
‘as
fun,
oui
, but you are different, she’s not
‘ad
fun since she’s been with you.”

Susan laughed. “Now
that’s
a compliment.”

Sylvie didn’t get the irony. “
Ah oui
. No other bimbozos since
you arrived.”

“It’s not even been a week.”

Sylvie sucked on her gums and shrugged. “One woman one night,
another
zee
next, all drinking at this bar,” Sylvie pointed her wrinkled
finger at Susan, “but
you,
Jenna look at with love.”

Susan sighed. “Have you’ve spoken to her today?”

Sylvie nodded. “
Ah oui
.”

“So you know what happened with Daisy?”

Sylvie continued to nod. “
Ah oui
.”

“So you’ll understand why I can’t let my personal life get in the
way of my professional life.” Susan paused. “I was playing games with Jenna
when I should have been focused on my student.”

“
NON!
” shouted Sylvie, lifting a bar rag from the counter
and snapping it in front of Susan’s face. “What
‘appened
today tells us
that life’s too short. It tells us that life needs to be lived.” She nodded in
triumph. “It tells us to move and make each moment count.
Oui?
”

Susan gently reached out for the dirty cloth and guided Sylvie’s
hand back down to the counter. She spoke quietly. “No. I think it tells us we
have to make the right choices in life.”

“Exactly!” shouted Sylvie bringing the rag back to life. “Make
zee
right choice and make up with Jenna.” She shrugged. “I even make up with my old
lady friend, Delphine.” She hushed her voice, accentuating her strong French accent.
“Even though I know she try to steal my Joseph when her Renard died.” She
sighed once more. “But Jenna arrange it last night and we met and made up.” She
reached over the counter and took Susan’s hand. “Life’s too short.”

Susan squeezed the wrinkled fingers. “I know. That’s why I want to
get it right.”

****

 Susan lay in her bed replaying the conversation with Sylvie. Was
it an admirable thing that Jenna had stuck to one woman for almost a week? Was
it relevant that an eighty year old French lady had spotted some sort of shift
in the way Jenna peered at her prey? Susan sighed. Was Sylvie right though? Was
it really that simple to live, love, and make each moment count? She shook
herself free from her musings and rolled over, reaching down to the carpet for
her phone. She swiped it to life and stared at the blank screen, immediately clicking
the button at the top and returning the room to its solitary darkness. She
rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.

The tapping was timid, but it made Susan jump. She lifted her head
and looked at the door. “Who is it?” she whispered, feeling her heart start to
race.

“Santa Claus,” came the reply.

Susan smiled and crept out of bed. “I’m not sure I’m a believer.”

“Seeing is believing. I’ve got a present for you.”

Susan twisted the lock and pulled open the door. Jenna was
standing in the corridor in a bright red onesie. “Wow,” said Susan smiling.

“Santa’s sorry.”

Susan shook her head. “You look more like a tomato. I didn’t have
you down as a onesie wearer.”

Jenna looked Susan up and down. “And I didn’t have you down as a
frilly camisole and French knickers type of girl, but hey, we’re both full of
surprises.”

Susan blushed. “I like to stay cool in bed.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

Susan grabbed Jenna’s wrist and pulled her into the room. “Have
you come round to embarrass me?”

“No. I came round to give you this.” Jenna flicked on the lights
and closed the door, tentatively holding out a folded piece of paper. “I was
planning on shoving it under your door but I heard you moving around. I wasn’t
expecting you back until later.”

Susan took the note and walked back to her bed. “Daisy’s mum got
an early flight.”

“Everything okay?”

“As well as can be expected in circumstances like these.”

Jenna hovered by the door. “Can I sit down?”

“What does it say?”

She took a small step forwards. “Open it and you’ll see.”

Susan sighed and unfolded the piece of paper, slowly reading the
looped handwriting. “
Apologising doesn’t mean you’re right or wrong. It just
means you value your relationship more than your ego
.” Susan turned it over
and checked the back. It was blank. She snapped her head back up. “And what’s
that supposed to mean?”

Jenna retreated to her position by the door. “It means we both have
things to apologise for and I thought I’d make the first move.”

“But this isn’t an apology. It’s your way of telling me you’re
right and I’m wrong.”

“You blamed me.”

Susan dropped the note onto the bed and held her breath, trying to
find the right words. “So you thought you’d slip this under my door and then
what?”

Jenna smiled. “Well then you’d either be so angry that you’d
charge round to my room and we could have it out, or you’d read the words and realise
I’m right.”

“About what?!”

“About the fact we value our relationship and we’re willing to apologise.”

“And if we were to have it out, what would happen?”

Jenna smiled. “It would get heated. We’d both get things off our
chest, and then we’d make up in the best possible way.”

Susan dropped her head into her hands. “It’s been such a long day.
I really can’t do this right now.”

Jenna seized the moment and dashed towards the bed. “I know and
you’ve handled it brilliantly.” She sat down and wrapped her arm around Susan’s
shoulder.

Susan shrugged her off. “I haven’t.”

“You have. All the girls were fine. Marcus spent the afternoon
being comforted by a first aider and by this evening he was playing the hero
and claiming that he managed to hang onto Daisy until the drop was only a
matter of metres.” She smiled. “Daisy’s operation went well and it sounds like
Mrs Button got here fine, so in the scheme of things you’ve handled it
brilliantly.”

Susan started to sob. “This is all my fault.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jenna wrapped her arm back around Susan, “where’s
this come from?” She squeezed gently. “I thought you were blaming me?”

Susan looked up with tired eyes. “Oh Jenna, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t
have said that. I was in shock. I lashed out.”

Jenna shook her head. “No, you just said what you were feeling at
that precise moment in time.”

“No, I didn’t mean it.”

“What about the texts?”

Susan sighed. “I didn’t mean those either.”

“Good, because you’re one hell of a lesbian.”

“Stop it,” sniffed Susan trying not to laugh. “I just don’t know
myself anymore.”

“Really? Or is this actually the easiest thing in the world
because you’ve finally started to be yourself? Yesterday you weren’t worrying
about the banter and last night you weren’t worrying about our laughter, and I’m
sure you’ve never worried about drinking socially after school.” Jenna exhaled.
“You were shocked and you looked for something to blame so you blamed the one
thing that’s changed in your life. Your sexuality.” Jenna squeezed Susan’s
shoulder. “But being a lesbian doesn’t make bad things happen, and like I said,
you’ve seemed pretty sure of who you are for the past few days, and if I’m not
mistaken, moments before the accident you were contemplating telling the girls
who you really want to be.”

Susan dropped her head back into her hands. “That’s just it,
Jenna. That’s why I blamed you. You said ‘
good god no,
’ when I suggested
we tell them. I just wanted the snow to swallow me up so I raced away from you.”
She sighed. “Then I raced away from Daisy.”

“First things first, Susan. Any slight change in so many factors could
have altered the course of the morning. What if I’d insisted she stayed with
us? What if Lisa had spent an extra ten minutes at the top of that slope? What
if Marcus was stronger? What if Daisy hadn’t been so stupid and undone that
bloody zip? You can’t spend your entire life thinking
what if.
”

“Mrs Button blames herself.”

“Exactly!” said Jenna. “But no real harm’s been done. A little
girl’s coming back from a school ski trip with a broken leg. We get breaks,
sprains and fractures with nearly every group. It’s happened. It’s done. Move
on.”

“How can you say that?”

“Life’s too short. Focus on what’s important.”

Susan looked up. “And what’s important right now?”

“It’s important for me to say that I’m sorry.” Jenna reached
across for Susan’s hand. “I panicked. You took me by surprise and, like you, I
said the first thing that came into my mind.”

“Why though? Why was that your reaction?”

Jenna released her grip and flopped backwards onto the bed. “Oh
Christ, Susan, you know me.”

“That’s just it, I don’t.”

“Yeah, but it feels like you do.” She lifted her head. “It does,
doesn’t it? You know it does. It feels like we’ve known each other for a
lifetime.”