One Foot Onto the Ice (9 page)

“All done!” nodded Marcus with pride. “I’d like to lead this,
ladies,” he said, standing up, tapping the side of his glass with the pen, and
calling for attention. “Fingers on your buzzers for the final round.”

Jenna looked at Amber. “Music and TV, right?”

Amber rolled her eyes. “Of sorts. Give me that tankard of beer. I
need to down it in one.”

Marcus addressed the group of students, most of whom were paying
attention. “Why was the musician arrested?” A sea of blank faces looked back at
him. “Because he was in treble.”

“Huh?” said the girl in the silver tracksuit. “I thought it was questions
on drum and bass, grime, and hip hop?”

“And TOWIE,” shouted another girl.

“And Miss Marple,” said Francesca Hamilton more calmly.

Marcus guffawed at himself. “Just breaking the old icicles with a
couple of tummy ticklers.” He tried again. “How are trumpet players like
pirates?” No one spoke. “They’re both murder on the high Cs.”

“Sir, can we just get to the questions?” The boy with the gold
chains was pen in hand, ready, for once, to excel.

“It’s Professor Ramsbottom, please.”

There was a wail of laughter. “Unlucky, mate!” said the boy. “Come
on, we’re ready for the questions. You said it was double points.”

Marcus straightened the piece of paper in his hand. “Fine. Okay,
here we go. This is a ten question music and television round.” He coughed importantly.
“Question one. Which buxom blonde little filly likes nothing better than
writhing around in a gaping school uniform, pleading that she needs to be hit
just one more time?”

Susan sloshed her tankard back onto the table and muttered under
her breath. “Good god, give me strength.”

Jenna looked around the room at the students all whispering and
scribbling away. She pushed the tankard back towards Susan and lifted her own
beer. “Cheers,” she said, nodding for Susan to pick hers back up. “Here’s to
getting through it.”

Susan lifted her tankard and managed a smile. “To sisters,” she
said, swigging deeply, “doing it for ourselves.”

Chapter Nine

Marcus strutted back into the dining room and made his way to the
bar. He was rubbing his hands together. “He does it again. All of the little
ladies are fast asleep.”

Susan lifted her glass tankard and swallowed the last mouthful of
beer. She placed it back on the table and looked up at her colleague, wanting
to bring him down a peg or two without sounding too condescending. “Jenna got
them to sleep last night, and some of the girls were actually dropping off
during that quiz.”

Marcus sat down and reached for his dainty Cinzano cocktail. “I
hope that wasn’t a dig about my questions,
mon amie
?”

Amber laughed. “Your questions were the liveliest bit of the
evening. I’ve never heard Little Mix described quite like that.”

Marcus sniffed. “Trust you to pay attention to questions involving
Little Mix.”

“What does that mean?” questioned Jenna.

Marcus narrowed his eyes in Amber’s direction. “Lesbian lust.”

Jenna bit back. “Amber isn’t a lesbian—”

Susan cut in, “But if she were, it wouldn’t matter.”

“They’re too young for her,” confirmed Marcus, delicately draining
the remainder of his pretty drink and cleaning his ginger moustache with his
fingertips.

“Who?” frowned Amber.

“Little Mix.” Marcus was shaking his head. “At least idolise one
of your own kind. Go for k.d. Lang, or Clare Balding, or someone of that ilk.”

Susan stood up. “For goodness sake, I’m pouring another drink.”

Marcus reached for her hand. “
Mon amie
, how about you and I
head up to my room and sample that
bouteille de vin
I purchased at the
service station yesterday?”

“I’m twenty-four, Marcus,” said Amber, “I go for sporty, good
looking, fun loving types.” She looked at Jenna. “I like women who live for the
moment.”

Susan shook off Marcus’s clammy hand. “No thank you, there are
things I need to discuss with Jenna.”

Marcus frowned. “Such as?”

Susan sighed sharply. “We need to finalise the rest of the evening
activities, go over the group feedback from Lisa and Hugo, and discuss the
options for the disco on Friday. But regardless of that, I want to stay down
here, enjoy another drink, and wind down.”

Marcus looked over at Amber. “I’d really rather you kept your
sordid preferences to yourself. Have the Mossyside staff had enough of you too?
Is that why you’re here?”

Amber stood up and walked behind Marcus, teasingly shaking his
shoulders. “You’re a real hoot, Marcus. It’s a good job I know when you’re
playing with me. I’ve already discussed all of this with my team of teachers. I’m
off duty so I thought I’d hang around here for a bit and see how the other half
live.”

Marcus straightened in his seat, thrown by the female contact. “Aha,”
he said, “you’re one of those bisexuals.” He looked up at her and flashed his stubby
yellow teeth. “I can live with that.”

Amber hid her shudder, tapped his shoulders once more, and made
her way behind the bar. “I’m pouring the drinks,” she said, smiling at Susan.
“Another tankard?”

“Yes please.” Susan looked over at Jenna. “Are you having another?”

Jenna nodded. “Count me in.”

Marcus pushed his chair backwards and stood up. “Let’s take it
steady, ladies.” He pointed at the ceiling. “Remember we’re responsible for the
sixteen students sleeping soundly upstairs.”

“Exactly,” laughed Amber. “They’re sleeping soundly. Some of the
states I’ve seen teachers get themselves into of an evening! It’s part and
parcel of the fun. Relax and enjoy yourselves. The kids are always so shattered
from skiing that you won’t hear a peep out of them all evening.” She grinned at
Marcus. “Be a devil. Let’s have a Jägerbomb.”

“A what?”

“It’s a cocktail shot that only men and lesbians can handle.”
Amber reached for the bottle of Jägermeister. “I’m pouring myself one.”

Marcus peered over the bar. “No, I don’t believe I’ll partake. My
bottle of Burgundy looks far more appealing.”

Amber shrugged. “It’s probably sensible if you’re not used to the
drink. It packs quite a punch and you’ve probably got black runs planned in for
tomorrow.” She raised her eyebrows. “Where did Jenna take you today?”

Marcus shifted on his heels. “I wasn’t with Jenna.”

“Oh right. Hugo then. Up to the Nabor? That’s a beautiful run.”

Jenna interrupted. “I asked Marcus if he would stay in the ski
garden today with Lisa. One of the girls took quite a bad knock this morning
and I wanted an extra pair of eyes on her.”

Amber frowned. “Everyone’s always taking knocks. It’s a ski trip.
There are first aiders all over the place.” She dropped the shot glass filled
with Jägermeister into her tall glass of beer. “That must have been a blow to
your confidence, Marcus? Scooting around the ski garden like you’re a beginner?”

Marcus reached over the bar and lifted the freshly poured
Jägerbomb. “A man does what a man needs to do.” He studied the drink inside the
drink and nodded. “Men and lesbians you say?” He lifted it to his lips and
flung his head back far too quickly, causing the glass of Jägermeister to shoot
forwards and hit his two front teeth. He spluttered and coughed as the beer splashed
over the corners of his moustache and down his shirt. He gasped for air as most
of the potent brown shot found its way down his throat.

“Are you okay?” asked Susan, trying not to laugh.

Marcus had slammed the glass back on the bar and was banging his
own back and signalling with wide eyes.

“You want me to pat you on the back?” asked Susan slowly.

He nodded frantically.

Susan started to tap, only to have Marcus twist around and pull
her in closely. He panted heavily into her ear. “That’s better.”

“Stop it,” protested Susan.

Marcus rested his head on her shoulder. “How uncivilised of me. I
should steer clear of these faddy drinks. Please,
mon amie
, join me in
my room for something rather more classy?”

Susan loosened herself from his grip. “Look! Now you’ve got me wet
too.”

Marcus glanced at Amber and smirked. “That’s what all the women
say.”

Amber tittered cheekily. “I bet they do, you tiger.”

Marcus roared and swung his hand like a claw, accidentally
catching Susan’s neck. “Oh,
mon amie
, I’m so sorry.”

“Ouch,” gasped Susan, pressing her palm against the stinging
sensation. “You’ve just scratched me. Have you got long nails?”

Marcus lifted his fingers and presented them to Susan. “Let’s just
say they’re long enough.”

Susan looked at the brittle yellow nails and shook her head at the
dirt that was clearly visible under their tips. “I’m going to need some
antiseptic,” she said shuddering.

Marcus stepped forwards. “Here, let me blow on it. That often
helps.”

Susan almost fainted at the stench of stale breath and spittle
that gushed in her direction. “Please, Marcus, just go upstairs and open your
bottle of wine.”

Marcus studied Susan, trying to interpret her true meaning. “And
you’ll be following me up?”

“Amber’s poured me a drink and I have things to discuss with
Jenna. But yes, I’ll be following you up,” she spoke firmly, ‘but I’ll be
heading to my OWN room.”

Marcus started to unbutton his wet shirt and nodded his head
slowly. “I’m sure the smell of Burgundy will entice you.” He flashed his ginger
chest hairs. “Unless these entice you more?”

“Go,” said Susan, pointing at the door to the stairs.

Marcus pursed his lips. “I love it when you’re firm.”

“Go,” she said, with her finger still pointing.

Marcus opened the door, glanced over his shoulder, and wagged his
finger. “Don’t talk about me too much, girls.”

All three waited for the door to click shut before turning to one
another. Amber was the first to react, sticking her tongue out and starting to
heave. Jenna stretched out her arms and did a full body shudder while Susan
simply shook her head in disbelief. “I’m so sorry,” she uttered.

Amber was still dry retching. “Gross.”

Jenna did one final shudder, as if freeing herself from his
creepiness. “You were the one licking his hairy orange arse, Amber.”

Amber doubled over and performed one more huge bout of silent
sickness before standing upright and pretending to wipe her mouth. She grinned.
“Just putting my training to good use.”

“What training?” asked Susan. “I think I need some.”

“Difficult customers.” Amber nodded. “We’re taught how to respond
to the constantly complaining teacher, or the customer who’s never satisfied.”

Susan reached across the bar and lifted the tray of tankards,
carefully walking back to the table. “What about the colleague whose constant
inappropriateness leaves you in utter despair?”

Amber came out from behind the bar. “Jenna’s not that bad. She can
be a bit straight laced at times, but I find a few drinks soon sorts that out.”

Jenna laughed. “I’m not straight laced.”

Amber patted the seat next to her. “I know.” She pushed over the
tankard. “Here, have a drink.”

Jenna sat down and lifted the handle in a toast. “To sisters,” she
said, “doing it for ourselves.”

“I already said that one,” laughed Susan, taking a slow sip of
beer and tasting a glimmer of relaxation as the cool liquid washed over her
tongue.

“It was a good one,” nodded Jenna, lifting the glass to her mouth
and following suit.

Amber wiped the froth from her top lip and returned her tankard to
the table. “The trick’s to flirt. I flirted with him. He dropped his guard. I
think he even quite fancied me by the end.”

Susan shook her head. “I can’t. I just can’t. I’d rather suffer
his low-level infantile inappropriateness than make him think I’m interested.”

Amber shrugged. “Just change the subject then. Don’t rise to his
ridiculousness. He said I had sordid preferences and I said he was a hoot.”
Amber paused. “It stumped him.”

Jenna frowned at Susan. “I thought you said he was an option?”

Amber gulped too quickly and started to splutter. “What? With who?
With Susan?” She looked completely perplexed. “I thought you were gay?”

Susan exhaled in disbelief. “You’re the third person who’s told me
that in less than three days. Where am I going wrong?”

Jenna looked at Amber. “Should I call her a hoot?”

Susan lifted her hand to her mouth. “Goodness, I’m sorry. I’m no
better than him, am I? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being a lesbian,
but I’m not. I’m straight.”

“Okay,” said Jenna and Amber in unison.

“I am, really.”

“Okay,” they said again.

Susan sipped some more beer, filling the silence. She swallowed
and finally spoke. “What makes you think I’m gay?”

Amber shared a knowing look with Jenna.

Susan spotted the connection and frowned. “What?” she asked.

“Why do you need to know?” shrugged Amber. “If you’re straight,
you’re straight.”

“Fine,” said Susan, hoping that her cheeks weren’t too flushed.
“Can we run through the schedule for the rest of the week and then I’ll head
up.”

Jenna leaned around the table and pulled on Susan’s shoulder.
“Nooooo! We’re teasing you. We’re sorry. It’s only nine, let’s have some
giggles.”

Amber nodded, but her tall pink hair hardly moved. “That’s the
best thing I’ve heard all evening. Let’s play truth or dare.”

Susan puzzled. “Crikey. I’ve not played that since school.”

“No one had any truths to tell back in school,” laughed Amber. “But
that’s all changed now.”

Susan coughed lightly. “I’d rather just clarify the week’s plans
and head on up. I really am quite tired.”

Jenna pulled a piece of paper from her jeans pocket and flattened
it out on the table. “We’re ice skating tomorrow, swimming on Wednesday,
tobogganing on Thursday, and it’s the disco on Friday, which we’ll hold here
with the students from Mossyside.”

“It’s all booked?” asked Susan.

“All booked,” nodded Jenna. “The skiing reports from Hugo and Lisa
are short. Hugo says the girls are listening well and flirting wholeheartedly
and Lisa called Marcus a knob.”

“What did she say about the girls?” asked Susan, not rising to it.

Jenna nodded. “Yes, they think he’s a knob too.”

Susan couldn’t help but laugh. “Stop it.”

Jenna wrapped her arm back around Susan’s shoulder. “He is. Don’t even
entertain him as a last ditch option.” She batted her eyelashes. “Please, for
me?”

Susan exhaled. “I’m not.” She shook herself free from Jenna’s arm
and reached for her drink. “He’s not my type.”