by Kiki Archer
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.
“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 fo
r 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?”