One Foot Onto the Ice (6 page)

Jenna gave Willamena Edgington the thumbs-up and pointed her in
the direction of the intermediates. “No. I can ski straight. That’s about as
straight as I get.”

“A girlfriend then?” asked Champagne with zero distinction.

Jenna signalled the next girl down the slope. “Not at the moment.”

Champagne linked her arm into Jenna’s like they were lifelong
friends. “Ooo, don’t worry, we’ll set you up with someone this week, won’t we
Priggs?”

Jenna leaned into Champagne’s shoulder and smiled to herself.
Sexuality was
actually
of little importance to teenagers anymore. It was
as if Champagne had asked her if she preferred skiers or snowboarders. She
unlinked her arm and turned to the over-familiar eighteen year old. “She has to
be a good skier though. That’s my only request.”

“Looks?”

Jenna shook her head. “No, I’m not too fussy. It’s all about the
personality for me. I like it when someone gets inside my head. When someone
gets me thinking about them, even when I don’t want to.”

“Ooo I like that,” said Champagne.

“But I’ll settle for a good skier,” laughed Jenna, waving up to
Susan. “Come on then, Madam Quinn. Show us what you’ve got.”

Susan skied with confidence, elegance, and edge, traversing down
the slope in no time at all and pulling in front of Jenna with a perfect hockey
stop. “Any good?”

Champagne nudged Jenna’s arm once more. “What were you saying
about the skiing?” she laughed.

Jenna ignored the comment. “Girls, do you think Madam Quinn’s good
enough to be in our group?”

“Yes!” said Priggy far too keenly.

Jenna looked at Susan. “You’re obviously advanced, but you’re fine
to ski on your own, if you’d prefer.” She paused and looked up to the top of
the slope where Marcus had finally sorted himself out. “If Professor Ramsbottom’s
as good as he thinks he is, you two could set your own routes and meet the rest
of us for lunch.”

Priggy was now the one to nudge Jenna’s arm. “I wouldn’t be so
sure about that.”

Jenna looked up to see Marcus, arms flailing all over the place,
gathering speed down the short slope. “Snow plough!” she shouted.

Marcus couldn’t hear any instructions. He was too panicked by the
fast approaching orange netting at the bottom of the run.

“I’ll save him,” shouted little Daisy Button, pulling herself to
her feet and ploughing as fast as she could in front of his path.

Marcus screamed. “Daisy! Move!” But it was too late. He hit the
young girl with real force.

“Bloody hell,” gasped Jenna, racing over to the incident as quickly
as her heavy ski boots would allow. She hauled Marcus from the back of his ski
jacket off the little girl and dumped him back down in the snow. She crouched
next to Daisy and lifted her into a seated position. “Are you okay, Daisy?” she
asked, looking for any signs of obvious injury.

“What were you doing, Marcus?” snapped Susan, quickly using her
poles to unclip her skis and join Jenna at Daisy’s side.

Marcus rolled himself over, wiping the snow from his facial hair.
“It’s Professor Ramsbottom in front of the students, please.”

Susan ignored him. “For heaven’s sake, Marcus! I thought you could
ski? Daisy, are you okay?” Susan was trying to decide if Daisy Button looked
whiter than usual.

Daisy shrugged. “Will I get sent home if I break something?”

Jenna frowned. “Do you feel like something’s broken?”

Daisy pulled her wonky glasses from her nose. “No, not this time.”
She fingered the bridge of the thick prescription spectacles. “But these are
bent.”

Marcus reached out for the glasses. “I’ll sort them out.”

“I think you’ve done enough,” chastised Susan.

“He has now,” said Jenna, watching as Marcus clumsily snapped the
glasses in two.

“Has he broken my glasses? I can’t see without them.” Daisy
shrugged. “I’ll have to go home.”

Jenna put her arm around Daisy’s little yellow ski jacket. “This
is your first school trip. You’re bound to get a bit homesick. It’s natural.
But I want you to give it a chance. Lisa’s a wonderful teacher and you’re going
to have the best morning in the ski garden. The slopes are really gentle and
you’ll be playing lots of fun games.”

“But my glasses.”

Jenna reached into the inside pocket of her ski jacket. “Your
glasses are going to be the coolest on the slopes.” She pulled out the bright
pink tape she kept for securing loose ski straps. “Pass them over, Professor.”

Marcus handed the glasses over and continued to dust the snow from
his jacket. “Is no one going to check how I am?”

“You said you could ski,” hissed Susan.

“I can. I spent a full afternoon on Mount Jungfrau when I was a
child. Plus I’ve completed level seventeen of Family Ski on the Wii.”

Jenna continued to wind the long pink plaster around the glasses
muttering under her breath. “I’ve heard it all now.”

Marcus sniffed haughtily. “Have you skied Mount Jungfrau?”

Jenna nodded. “I have actually. You ride up the slow funicular
railway to the top of the mountain and take in the views of the huge glacier.”
She shook her head and turned to Susan. “They have a tiny slope where tourists
can try their hand at skiing. You hire the equipment for an hour at a time.”
She shook her head. “Marcus, that isn’t the same as spending a season on the
slopes.”

“I came down without my poles. That was the problem.”

Jenna looked at the glasses and the new pink plaster around the
bridge. “Pretty funky hey, Daisy?”

Daisy put them back on and shrugged. “They can’t look much worse,
I guess.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? He hit you at quite a pace.”

Daisy got to her feet. “I’m fine. He’s podgy. It didn’t hurt.”

“What were you doing stepping in front of me like that anyway?”
Marcus still hadn’t managed to untangle himself from his skis.

Jenna stood with Daisy and reached out her hand to help lift
Marcus up. She spoke firmly. “Marcus, I’d like you in the beginners group for
two reasons. One, because you’re a beginner and two because I want an extra
pair of eyes on Daisy.”

“I’m fine,” said Daisy without conviction.

Marcus looked over at Susan. “Madam Quinn. I’ll go with the
beginners just to make sure Daisy doesn’t develop concussion—”

“I’m fine,” whispered Daisy once more.

Marcus kept talking. “Well, I’ll just make sure. But no doubt Lisa
will move me up a couple of groups at lunchtime when she sees what I can do
with my poles.”

Susan was embarrassed by the kerfuffle, embarrassed by the delay,
and embarrassed by her colleague’s inability to behave in a normal fashion.
“Fine,” she said, signalling the few girls over who hadn’t been surrounding the
incident. “Right. I think we’re ready. If everyone could listen carefully?” She
made sure all eyes were on her. “You’ll be with your instructors for the two
hour morning session. The sun’s getting stronger so make sure you use your sunblock
sticks. We’ll meet for lunch at the Viking Restaurant at the top of the Pleney
ski lift, and then it’ll be another two hour session in our groups in the
afternoon. Can I remind you all that you’re representing St Wilfred’s and I
expect exemplary reports from your instructors.” She scanned the excited faces.
“Any questions?”

Eugenie Rohampton put her hand up.

“Yes, Eugenie.”

Eugenie scrunched up her face. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“What?” Susan could see she was pointing at the back of Marcus’s
ski pants.

“Flashing your ginger bum pubes at your students.”

“What?” Susan was getting flustered. The laughter was getting
louder.

“Professor Ramsbottom’s trousers have split. He’s not wearing any
pants. He’s got ginger pubes on his bottom. Look, you can see them.”

Marcus flung his hand to his backside, having assumed the drop in
temperature was due to his tumble in the snow. “Disaster!” he hollered,
enjoying the attention far too much. “They must have split as I fell. That’s
one for the memory bank!” He guffawed loudly. “You girls will have so many
anecdotes to reminisce about when you get back to school.”

“Why are you pant-less, Professor?” Francesca Hamilton was bending
down and peering at the curly ginger hairs peeping out from between his
fingers.

“Francesca, get away from his bottom!” Susan was flapping.
“Professor, can I kindly suggest you go back to the ski shop, change your skis,
and get a better fitting pair of trousers.”

Marcus removed his hands and gave Susan the thumbs up. “Good plan,
Madam Quinn.”

The girls started to cheer, laughing at the show.

“It’s wobbling!” shouted Eugenie, quickly reaching into her ski
jacket for her camera.

Professor Ramsbottom sashayed away from the group towards the ski
shop. “This
really is
the stuff of legend,” he said, giving one final
look over his shoulder at the gobsmacked young ladies. “The stuff of legend.”

Chapter Seven

Susan watched the small group of beginners plod off behind Lisa,
their Club Ski instructor. They were the last lot to leave the nursery slope after
their extra instruction on ski-carrying technique and efficient ways to walk through
the snow with heavy boots on. They obviously hadn’t grasped it yet, because the
group of girls were stumbling around and dropping equipment all over the place.
Susan realised that it would be a very long walk to the cable car and a drama
filled morning in the ski garden for this group of beginners. For a moment she
felt sorry for Marcus. Some of the girls would cry. Some would give up. Some
would even become bored and try and ski the slopes before they were ready. She
turned to Jenna. “Does Marcus really have to spend the morning with them?”

Jenna clipped her boots into her skis. “Yes. He’s a beginner.
Lisa’s great. She’ll have him up and running in no time.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing though, isn’t it? Having him learn
alongside Daisy Button and the other first timers?”

Jenna pulled her huge grey beanie hat down over her ears. “He’s
not good enough for the intermediates. Hugo’s taking them over to the blue run
at the top of the Nabor. He’d struggle.” Jenna checked her watch. “If we leave
now we’ll have time to head up to the Chamiaz Express and ski over to Les Gets.
It’s a glorious day, the sun’s shining and the snow’s white. Let’s have some
fun, ladies.”

Priggy, who was raring to go with her tinted goggles on, cheered.
“Yay! Black runs.”

Jenna shook her head. “No, blues and reds today. We need some time
to warm up.” She turned to Susan. “It’ll take a couple of days before
everyone’s completely settled into the right groups and if it makes you feel any
better I’ll set some time aside to spend with him one on one.”

“Who’ll take us then?” asked Champagne as she applied more gloss
onto her already glistening lips.

“Madam Quinn’s more than capable.”

Susan thought about the added responsibility of guiding a very eager
Champagne Willington and Priggy Bunton-Chatsworth across the slopes. “No, I
think you’re probably right. He may be good enough to join us in a few days
anyway.”

“Would you like that?” asked Jenna mischievously.

“Professor Ramsbottom would,” teased Champagne, shuffling up next
to her teacher. “Can we call you Susan, seeing as it’s just the four of us?”

“No you cannot!”

Jenna tapped her poles together. “Let’s call her Susie.” She
pointed her ski pole at everyone individually. “Priggs, Champs, Jenna and Susie.
Now we sound as cool as we look. Come on ladies! Let’s hit the slopes.”

Susan pulled down her sunglasses, disguising the sparkle of
adrenaline and excitement she felt coursing through her body. “Fine,” she said,
“just don’t let the other girls hear you.”

Jenna pushed off with her poles and slid down the gentle incline
towards the bottom of the Belvédère chairlift, flagged by Champagne and Priggy,
with Susan following on behind. Jenna shouted over her shoulder. “We’ll take
the chairlift up to the top, ski the blue run over to the bottom of the Chamiaz
Express, ride that all the way up to the peak and then we’ll ski a couple of
red runs into Les Gets. We’ll probably get about an hour over there before we get
the Chavannes chairlift back up to the top so we can ski down into Morzine to
meet the others at The Viking for lunch.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Susan, slowing her pace and sliding into
the metal turnstile. She lifted her arm and the sensor flashed green as it
detected her lift pass. It opened quickly allowing her to shuffle through into
the waiting position at the plastic yellow bars. Jenna, Priggy, and Champagne
all did the same, pulling up neatly beside her. It was as if they were horses,
all waiting for the off. The wide chairlift swept around the corner and scooped
up the four skiers in front of them. At the same time their yellow bars opened,
allowing them to scoot as quickly as they could into position. Moments later
the next chairlift swept around the corner and hit the back of their thighs,
scooping them forwards and upwards.

“Heads back everyone,” said Jenna, pulling down the safety bar.

“And we’re off,” gasped Susan, breathing in the crisp fresh air.
She closed her eyes and exhaled. “It makes you feel so alive.”

Champagne scrunched up her nose. “What does?”

“This.” Susan pointed at the beautiful snowy mountains with jagged
peaks that were piercing the vibrant blue backdrop of the sky, dotted with a small
scattering of wispy white clouds. She looked down at the tips of the tall pine
trees and the needles coated with a fresh powdering of snow overnight. She inhaled
deeply and let the cool, crisp air kiss her cheeks. “It’s breath-taking.”

Priggy leaned forwards, gutted she hadn’t positioned herself next
to Madam Quinn. “I agree, Susan.”

Champagne burst out laughing. “You sound like an idiot!”

“It was your idea to call her Susan!” said Priggy. “Anyway, sorry
Susan, I was saying—”

Susan laughed. “It does sound a bit odd.”

Jenna smiled to herself, pleased to see her old classmate starting
to loosen up. “Call her Susie.”

“No one calls me Susie.”

Priggy started to talk again. “I feel you, Susie—”

“Yeah, in your dreams you do,” laughed Champagne.

Priggy banged her pole against Champagne’s shins. “I’m saying I
feel it too. The rush of life you get when you’re up here. It’s so hard to
describe to people who haven’t skied. You feel so free. So at one with the
earth. You feel like Mother Nature’s got you in the palm of her hand and she’s
lifting you up to show off all her splendour.”

Susan was now the one to lean forwards. “You’ve got hidden depths,
Miss Bunton-Chatsworth.”

Priggy blushed. “Thanks for noticing.”

Champagne tilted her head and whispered into her best friend’s
ear. “The only hidden depth you’ve got is in your tight little tuppy that’s
probably tingling away right now at the thought of Miss Middle-Aged having a
touch.”

Priggy pursed her lips proudly and whispered back. “She can touch,
twist, tweak, and tweezer as much as she likes.”

Champagne almost dropped her ski pole laughing.

Jenna tutted. “Girls, we have to share the giggles this week.”

Champagne calmed herself down and inhaled deeply. “Trust me, you
don’t want to know.”

Jenna looked forwards at the fast approaching mound of snow. “Are
we ready?” she said, lifting the safety bar up over their heads.

“I hate these last couple of seconds,” said Champagne. “It’s still
quite a drop.”

Jenna moved both of her ski poles into her left hand and placed
her right hand on her seat under her bottom. “It’s fine. Wait until you feel
the snow under your skis and just push forwards. The chair will nudge you off
if you stay on too long.”

“Come on, girls,” said Susan. “The first chairlift of the trip. We
can do it.”

“Priggy!” shouted Champagne as her skis hit the snow and slid on
top of her friend’s.

“Champs! You’re on my ski!” Priggy tried to pull hers back out and
mistimed her rise from the seat, causing it to knock her to the left as it
swung around the corner.

“Shittttttt!” shouted Champagne, feeling the full force of her
friend’s body.

“Crappppp!” shouted Priggy, failing to keep her balance and
tumbling straight into the snow.

Susan and Jenna had pushed off quickly and were now sliding to an
elegant stop a safe distance away from the chairlift’s drop-off point. “Looks
like we have our first fallers!” shouted Jenna as she watched the two girls on
their knees scrabbling around in the snow for their poles. “You’ve got about
two seconds before the next chair’s here. You don’t want to get sat on like
Professor Ramsbottom. Where was he stabbed again, Priggy?”

“The nuts!” shouted Priggy, grabbing her pole and lifting herself
back up. She quickly shuffled forwards to join them. “That was Champagne’s
fault.”

Champagne hobbled forwards with one boot out of it binding. “Was
not! You put your ski under mine.”

Jenna laughed. “The tally’s begun. Don’t worry. We’ll all be
falling over at some point this week.”

Susan looked sceptical. “I’m not so sure about that. You look
pretty good to me, Jenna.”

“And you look pretty good to me too
,
” said Jenna, smiling
in return.

****

Marcus was slowly plodding around the ski garden on one ski. “Is
this totally necessary?” he asked.

Lisa was leading the group of seven beginners, stepping forwards
with her right leg and sliding forwards with her left ski. “Yes.”

“We’re twenty minutes in and we haven’t even got both skis on.”

Lisa smiled. “We’re developing our confidence. Trust me. I know
what I’m doing. Who’s having fun, girls?” she shouted.

The group of youngsters all cheered, delighted to be
almost
skiing
around the brightly coloured ski garden that was filled with
exciting obstacles and plastic animals they all had to wave to as they passed
by. No one had even fallen over yet.

Marcus muttered. “Why isn’t someone of your expertise up on the
slopes speeding down the black runs?”

Lisa stood still, stopping the train of movement, and Daisy Button
bumped, once again, into the back of Professor Ramsbottom’s new, slightly
better fitting, ski pants.

“Daisy! Please be careful!” snapped Marcus. “That’s the third time
you’ve crashed into me.”

Daisy Button adjusted her broken glasses. “Sorry.” She looked up
at him. “But you keep stopping.”

“Yes, because our ski guide here thinks we need to take a break
every two seconds. Really, I should be up with the intermediates, if not the
advanced.”

Daisy shuffled backwards and spoke quietly. “I’ve hardly been
crashing into you. You crashed into me earlier. That was a crash. What I did
just then, was hardly even a nudge.”

“What are you wittering on about?”

Daisy pushed her glasses higher up her nose and wondered why she
was the only girl Professor Ramsbottom didn’t seem to like. “Can I borrow your
phone please, Professor?”

Lisa interrupted the chatter. “Professor Ramsbottom, would you
like to fetch your other ski? I need someone to do a demonstration and you’ve
been very vocal about your ability so I may as well utilise your eagerness.”

Marcus lifted his chest and nodded. “With pleasure, Lisa.”

“Can I borrow your phone please, Professor?” Daisy spoke a little
louder. “Please.”

“What?” muttered Marcus, shuffling out of his position in the line.

Daisy shuffled after him. “I need to call my mum. It’s her
birthday. I forgot to call her this morning.”

Marcus looked at her like she was being utterly ridiculous. “No.
We’re in the middle of a lesson.”

“But it’s important.”

Lisa spoke even louder. “Professor Ramsbottom, can you remind the
group of the best way to clip skis on too?”

 Marcus stopped at the collection of single skis all standing
upright in the snow. He reached for his new, slightly shorter ski, dropped it
to the ground and looked up at the girls with importance. “Toe in first, then
step down with your heel.”

Lisa watched as the boot clipped perfectly into position. “Pretty
good,” she said surprised.

“Professor, please, I’ll be quick.” Daisy tugged on the arm of his
jacket. “Just one minute.”

 Lisa pointed at the small mound ahead. “Professor Ramsbottom, I’d
like you to sidestep up the slope and then come down in the snow plough
position.”

“Not a problem,” he said, thrilled that Lisa had finally
acknowledged his skill set.

Daisy tugged even harder and looked up with eyes the size of saucers.
“Please, just for a second?”

“What are you doing, Daisy?” Marcus looked down at the little
girl. “I’m needed for a demonstration.” He pulled away from her, shuffled to
the bottom of the tiny incline and turned his body horizontally, chopping his
skis into the snow. Within thirty seconds he was at the top of the mound. He
nodded from his high tower and spoke loudly. “Now girls, when you’re
sidestepping, make sure your skis stay horizontal to the slope because if
they’re not then you’ll start to slide back down.”

Lisa lifted her hands above her head, genuinely impressed. “Who
thinks Professor Ramsbottom deserves a round of applause?!” She clapped loudly,
but no one else did.

Marcus continued his pompous instruction. “Now, another name for
the snow plough is the pizza, because you bring the tips of your skis together
and you make sure the ends of your skis are as wide as possible.” He stepped
into the triangle position. “You see, my skis are now in the shape of a slice
of pizza.” He shuffled forwards slightly and slid down the small slope,
stopping directly in front of Lisa.