One Foot Onto the Ice (7 page)

“We have a star in the group,” she said, patting him on the back.

Marcus shrugged with nonchalance. “Level three of Family Ski on
the Wii. The snow plough. I passed first time.”

“Well then,” said Lisa trying not to smile. “Could you show us
once more?”

Daisy was back at Professor Ramsbottom’s side. “Please?” She
sniffed back a tear. “Your phone? You said after your demonstration.”

 “Oh for goodness sake, Daisy.” He reached into the inside pocket
of his ski jacket. “Here.” He handed over the mobile. “Make it quick.”

Daisy held the phone tightly and shuffled to the back of the line.
She turned her back on the group and dialled her home number, aware that
Professor Ramsbottom was at the top of the mound boring the class for a second
time. She waited, listening to the rings, desperately praying that someone
would pick up. No one did.

****

Jenna pointed down the wide slope. “It’s a nice gentle blue run to
get us started. It forks off to the left and the chairlift we need is just
around that bend.”

“I’m off!” shouted Champagne, pushing on her poles, eager to
experience the first run of the season.

“I’m forking off too!” laughed Priggy, following on behind.

Jenna adjusted her beanie hat and turned to Susan. “See you at the
bottom, Madam Quinn.”

“Not if I see you first,” laughed Susan, pushing off quickly and
bending her knees, feeling that immediate rush of pure exhilaration. “Here we
go,” she shouted, lifting her head and letting the wind take her breath away.

Jenna let her take the lead, watching with admiration as her old classmate
zipped flawlessly across the slope. Her parallel turns were quick and efficient
and the position of her body was perfect. Jenna let her eyes focus on the taut
bottom swishing away in front of her.

Susan glanced over her shoulder and shouted. “Why are you lagging
behind?”

Jenna brought her knees even closer together, her skis now
millimetres apart. “I never had you down as competitive,” she said pulling
alongside, before quickly taking the lead and whizzing straight ahead.

Susan laughed as Jenna sped away into the distance. She breathed
in deeply and slowed her turns, standing up taller and carving widely into the
brilliant white slope. She lifted her head and absorbed the postcard-perfect
picture. It was like a scene from Narnia. Tall green trees covered in snow
framed the powdered white expanse of the slope, which shone under the clear
blue sky and bright yellow sun. She smiled to herself, welcoming the feeling of
total freedom.

“You’re glowing,” laughed Jenna as Susan finally made it to the
bottom of the run.

“I know,” she laughed, taking another deep breath. “Everything’s
just so fresh and crisp up here. A perfect run down a beautiful slope and all
of my worries are forgotten.”

Jenna pointed towards the chairlift. “This is the longest lift in
the whole area. We’ll be on it for about ten minutes. You can tell me all about
your worries on the way up.”

“Is it Professor Ramsbottom?” asked Champagne, joining the group.
“Are you in a dilemma?”

Susan laughed. “Champagne Willington, can you and Priggy go off
and talk about boys or something, please.”

“No, Priggs would get bored.” Champagne linked Susan’s arm,
shuffling them both towards the turnstiles. “Come on, Susie, what’s on your
mind.”

Susan sidestepped out of Champagne’s hold and positioned herself
against the metal bar. “I didn’t realise you were such a tease, Champagne. I
feel terribly uncomfortable with this first name agreement.” The green light
flashed and she pushed herself into the waiting position. “But since you asked
with such concern you’ll be pleased to know that I don’t have worries. I just
meant my mind feels completely free when I’m up here. I’ve always felt it. I’d
choose a skiing holiday over any other, any day.”

“Me too,” agreed Jenna, pushing through the turnstile and pulling
up next to them both.

“Champs, wait for me!” Priggy was banging her arm against the ski
pass detector, but the metal bar wasn’t moving.

“The chair’s coming,” shouted Champagne, watching the four skiers
at the front of the queue being scooped up and away. “Your pass is in your
other arm pocket, Priggs!” Champagne quickly realised that it was too late for
her friend to catch this chair. “Fine. I’ll wait with you,” she moaned,
shuffling backwards.

“See you up there, girls,” smiled Jenna as the yellow bars swished
open.

Susan pushed herself forwards and looked back towards the two
young ladies. “Make sure you pull down your safety bar.”

Jenna sidestepped into the lane next to Susan so they’d be sat
together. “They’re eighteen. Their families have probably taken them on more
skiing holidays than you and me put together. They’re fine. Don’t worry.” She
lifted herself slightly as the chair swept into position under their legs.
“Plus we get to talk without those eager ears listening in.”

Susan adjusted herself in the seat and pulled down on the safety
bar, looking back over her shoulder at Champagne, and a more composed Priggy,
now sliding themselves into position on the plastic matting. She watched as the
chairlift swung around the corner and swept them up. She also watched with
relief as the girls quickly pulled down the metal safety bar. “Okay, ladies?”
she shouted.

“We’re fine,” laughed Champagne.

Susan smiled and turned back around taking in the sheer height of
the mountain ahead of them. “How high does this chairlift take us?”

“Up to 1800 m. Morzine’s actually a pretty low lying resort, but
we’ll be on here for a good ten minutes.” Jenna reached into the sleeve pocket
of her red ski jacket and pulled out a small silver hip flask. She passed it to
Susan. “Here, have a sip. It’s cherry brandy.”

Susan left the offering where it was. “Alcohol? On a chairlift? I
don’t think so.”

Jenna shrugged and twisted off the lid as carefully as she could
with her thick ski gloves on. She took a tiny sip. “It warms the chest. Go on,
try some. It’s gorgeous and it’s not like there’s loads in there.”

“No. Don’t pressure me. I feel like I’m fifteen again, re-living
the Christmas concert.”

“What Christmas concert?”

Susan wiped some snow from the metal safety bar. “We were fifteen.
I was a snail.”

Jenna laughed. “You were a snail in the Christmas concert? What
was I?”

“Jesus.”

Jenna burst out laughing. “I’ve never been Jesus.”

“Oh you know what I mean. You were the star of the show.” Susan rested
her ski poles over her legs. “Anyway, you and Andrea Akram had some absinthe.
She’d brought it back from one of her foreign trips and she was daring us all
to have a try.”

“Did I try some?”

“Of course you did. Everyone did apart from me.”

Jenna frowned. “Why can’t I remember this?”

“Stuff like that wasn’t a big deal to you. You took everything in
your stride.”

“What did you do?”

“I kept saying no. I was worried about my performance in the
play.”

“Your performance as a snail?”

“Yes.”

Jenna grinned. “How did it go?”

“Exactly, you can’t remember it!” Susan pulled a face. “No one
can.”

Jenna reached out and squeezed Susan’s knee. “Oh bless you, you
feel hard done by because you were the snail.”

“No. I feel hard done by because I failed to make an impression on
anyone at school. I was always the one picked last for the sports teams. I was
always the one without a partner when it came to group work. I was always the
one sitting on my own at lunchtimes. I was always the one laughed at for not
wearing a bra.”

Jenna looked genuinely shocked. “That’s not how I remember you.
And anyway, none of us needed a bra at eleven.”

“You did,” nodded Susan.

“Did I now?” laughed Jenna, looking at her old classmate with intrigue.
“How interesting for you to notice. Let me tell you what I noticed about you.”
She started to tap the metal safety bar with each point she made. “You were the
one who always came top in the exams. The one always picked by the teachers to
give an example in class. The one with the best attendance record. The one
whose uniform always looked so smart—”

Susan laughed and cut in. “You’re scraping the barrel now! How
brilliant that I’m remembered for having a smart uniform.”

“Oh you know what I’m saying. You always looked so put together.
So well kempt.”

“I’d rather be remembered like you. Carefree. Fun loving. Bags of
charisma.”

“Why do I always get carefree? My work colleagues think that too.”

Susan raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you?”

“In some ways, I guess I am. But I worry that carefree means
shallow. I worry that people think I just live for the moment.”

“Don’t you?”

Jenna laughed. “See! People think I’m one dimensional. Zero
responsibility and zero plans. The teachers at St Wilf’s always said that about
me.”

“You did well though, didn’t you? One of the top performers in our
year if I remember correctly? Such a shock when you didn’t stay on to the sixth
form.”

“I needed to find myself.”

“Really?”

Jenna laughed. “No, but it’s a long story. I’m happy where I am
now and I’m even happier that you remember me so favourably.”

Susan smiled at her. “You were kind to me. You stuck up for me on
lots of occasions.”

Jenna puzzled. “I don’t remember ever having to.”

“That just shows what a great person you were. You stuck up for
all of us geeks.”

“You weren’t a geek!”

Susan felt flattered. “Well I certainly wasn’t one of the cool
girls like you and Andrea.” She sucked on her bottom lip. “Tell me the one
resounding memory you have of me from school.” She knew what Jenna’s answer would
be and she wanted to get it out in the open as soon as possible.

Jenna smiled. “That’s easy.”

Here we go
, thought Susan turning her attention to
the mountains that had been travelling along beside them, bracing herself for a
discussion about the quiff.

Jenna leaned forwards in her seat in a deliberate attempt to catch
Susan’s eye. “I remember how much more beautiful you looked than me when we
wore the same blue polka-dot dress at the school prom.”

Susan flushed with colour. “That’s not it.”

“It is,” smiled Jenna.

“You’re good, I give you that.”

“Good at what?”

Susan looked at the kind brown eyes and smiling dimple. “Being
charismatic. There must be something else you remember about me from school?”

“Yes, I told you, how you were always top of the class, winning
awards—”

“No, something else.”

Jenna frowned. “Like what? Did I miss something?”

Susan thought about it for a second then smiled. She took a deep
breath and turned back to the mountain, this time hiding a different sort of embarrassment.

“I thought you were great at school, Susan. You were too smart to
be friends with someone like me though.”

Susan spun back around. “As if! You were too cool to be friends
with someone like me.”

Jenna reached back into the zipper on her sleeve. She handed over
the small silver hip flask. “Shall we toast to being friends?”

Susan took the offering, twisted the lid, and laughed. “Why ever
not?”

“Better late than never,” said Jenna, watching her old classmate
take a swig of the sweet tasting liquor.

“Ooo, it’s good,” giggled Susan.

“What are you two drinking?” hollered Priggy Bunton-Chatsworth
from ten metres below.

“None of your business, you nosy parker,” shouted Jenna,
discreetly taking the flask from Susan and slipping it back into her jacket
pocket.

“Shouldn’t you two be talking about boys,” shouted Susan, trying
to join in the fun.

Jenna looked at Susan and spoke slowly. “You know Priggy’s gay,
right?”

Susan almost choked back some of the brandy. “Good heavens, no.”

Jenna nodded. “She is, and she has quite a big crush on you.”

Susan turned back around and looked down at the pretty girls chatting
away on the chair below. “She isn’t.” She shook her head. “She doesn’t.”

Jenna nodded more slowly. “She is and she does. She told me and I
heard her.”

“Heard her what?”

“Talking to Champagne about you. She’s not shy about it. You
should be flattered.”

Susan shifted in her seat. “You’re wrong. But if you’re right then
it makes me feel terribly uncomfortable.”

“Don’t sweat it. Everyone had a crush on their teacher. Who was yours?
Mine was Madam Rigby.”