by Kiki Archer
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 r
etreated 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.”
Susan shuffled herself further onto the bed and hugged her own knees. “Maybe we feel this way because we went to school together?”
Jenna pulled a face. “Yeah right, you said it yourself, we hardly spoke.” She sighed. “It’s more than that. It’s that connection. That spark. We’ve got it and only other people who’ve felt it will understand. It’s that pull. That attraction. That feeling you get when you want to spend every spare second with someone.” Jenna smiled. “That sounds dramatic, but I do, Susan. I just love spending time with you. I want to know everything about you. I just can’t explain it. I guess some people call it soul mates, other people call it fate, but I just feel like I’ve met someone who truly understands me, and that feeling has given me a real sense of completion.”
Susan shook her head. “But I don’t understand you, Jenna.”
Jenna laughed and pulled Susan down beside her. “Yes you do! You hit the nail on the head on that very first chairlift. I fell in love, I got hurt, and I struggle to let anyone get too close.”
“And that’s what you thought I was doing? Getting too close?”
Jenna shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I said, I didn’t think about it. I just brushed it off because it’s never been an option before. I’ve never wanted to shout about my relationships.”
“Apart from your first one?”
“Yes. I guess so.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s not much to say. I thought it was love. I left St Wilf’s to follow her up north and it turns out she wasn’t the woman I thought she was.” Jenna sighed. “I’ve regretted that decision ever since.”
“I thought you weren’t about regrets?” Susan smiled. “I thought you were all about moving on.”
“I’m complex, and you’re shivering.”
Susan rubbed her own legs. “I should have worn my onesie.”
“You have one?”
Susan laughed. “Of course not.”
“Ha! That’s why I lo…” Jenna paused.
“Why you what?”
“No, nothing, that’s what endears me to you. You’re funny.”
“Sylvie called me strange and no fun at all.”
Jenna laughed. “She’s harmless enough. We had a heart to heart. I knew she’d wait up for you.”
“She was like a secret wrinkled ninja hiding behind the bar, ready to wound me with her truths.”
“Ha! And what did she say that was true?” Jenna shuffled up the bed and slid under the duvet. “Come on, you’re freezing.”
Susan crept under the covers and wrapped herself into Jenna. “Oh just that we should make each moment count.”
“Like this?” whispered Jenna, lifting her lips to Susan’s.
Susan closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Yes, like this.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Susan! Susan! It’s seven thirty!” Jenna rolled over in the bed and shook Susan’s shoulder.
“What?” groaned Susan.
“It’s seven thirty. We’re meant to be down at breakfast.”
Susan sat bolt upright. “My alarm! I always set my alarm!”
Jenna fell out of bed and grabbed her bright red onesie that had ended up on the floor. “I think I silenced it.”
“What?!”
“Who sets their alarm for 6.0
0 a.m. when breakfast’s at seven thirty?”
“Me!” protested Susan, jumping across the room to find her bra. “Go! Get down there. Don’t make it obvious we’re both late.”
Jenna yanked the red zip all the way up to her neck, pulling the onesie rather painfully between her legs. “Ouch!” she gasped, quickly tugging it down at the thigh. “I’m not going to breakfast in this.”
“People wear those things all the time. No one will notice.”
“No. It’ll take me two minutes to dash back to my room. I only ever set my alarm for seven twenty as it is.”
“Fine,” said Susan, flapping around for some knickers.
Jenna unlocked the door and yanked at the handle, falling rather clumsily into the corridor. She pulled Susan’s door closed, took a deep breath, and turned on her bare feet to dash up the corridor. What she hadn’t been expecting was the vision of Marcus blocking her way with his hands on his hips.
“Early start,” he enquired. “What was it? A breakfast meeting in her room?”
Jenna winked as she darted past him. “Early start … or late finish?”
Marcus turned his head and eyed the ball of red racing towards the double doors. “Eccentric entrepreneurs,” he mumbled as he continued his walk towards Susan’s room. He reached the door and knocked loudly.
“What have you forgotten?” gasped Susan.
“Mon amie,” clucked Marcus, taking in the sight, “you’re missing your top.” He shook his head. “Did she catch you off guard? I assume she called round early to talk about Daisy. How is she by the way? I’m not sure if you’ve heard but the man who was running the chairlift told me I’d practically saved poor Daisy’s life. I managed to hold her until it was safe for her to fall and I’ve been told it takes great muscle to hold onto such a weight for that amount of time. I dread to think what would have happened if she’d been sharing the seat with a female of the species. It really was rather—”
“Marcus,” Susan kept her hands in position across her chest, “I’m changing.”
Marcus turned around in the doorway and continued his speech into the hall. “It really was rather lucky and I was wondering whether we should alert the local papers. You know the kind of thing, accidental hero, man shows super strength, just call me Ramsbottom, double-O Ramsbottom. That sort of thing. I thought I’d float the idea with you before I went down to breakfast because the girls haven’t given me a moment’s peace since I saved poor Daisy’s life.” He chuckled. “They’ve been badgering me to regale them with the story of my heroics.”