Five Ladies Go Skiing

by Karen Aldous

  Just before nine-thirty at the ski-school meeting point, we found Christoff. Angie didn’t sidle up to him in her usual flirty manner but blew him a kiss instead.

  ‘Morning all,’ she said.

  Neil was stood beside him, a pink glow to his cheeks, which suggested he had already been up for a first ski down. When he saw me, his warm eyes creased with a smile. I returned the smile, unable to conceal signs of heat radiating from my complexion as my veins involuntarily pulsated.

  I lowered my eyes then glanced back up at Angie who had positioned herself to inspect us one by one, making sure we all had our goggles on our helmets before she set off for the lift with Neil. We then followed Christoff. Although the sky brightened, small white flakes continued to fall on us as we made our way to the nursery slope. At the bottom, Christoff instructed us to warm up by ploughing down a few times with our goggles on to get used to them. We made our way to the button lift, which the attendant was still banging snow from.

  Christoff supervised our safe delivery onto the buttons and as I let the pole take me, I watched my skis part the fresh powdery snow and then lifted my head to enjoy the lovely smooth ride. Light flurries of snow whirled onto my face from the cable overhead, showering me with gentle kisses I interpreted as bliss. My numbness was gone.

  Reaching the top of the lift, I released the button and carved, floating as I glided, traversing and turning the silky-covered piste. What had I ever feared, I wondered as I ploughed seamlessly down, repeating it several times, my stance steadily improving as I allowed my legs to relax and the skis to slide parallel after each turn. I barely noticed the mist curling down until it smeared my vision.

  Christoff called us all and we gathered at the bottom of the slope. He adjusted his woollen beanie hat and removed his goggles from the pocket of his red jacket, placing the goggles over his hat, on his forehead.

  ‘So, I see you are now ready ski on the mountain. We will take the gondola.’

  ‘But we won’t be able to see,’ I said.

  ‘It may be clear up there, but you have to learn in all conditions, Ginny,’ he relayed seriously. ‘You never know what to expect. The weather changes very quickly in mountains and you have to ski to get to the safety. I explain when we are up. I show you.’

  ‘Of course.’ I nodded, then filed behind as Christoff led us across a narrower path to a steeper slope, which we hadn’t attempted before. I ploughed slowly before reaching the entrance to the main lift station. We copied Christoff as he took off his skis and clambered over to the steps. In heavy ski boots and carrying our skis, our loads were remarkably different to our previous ride for lunch. We arrived breathless as we got to the automatic turnstiles at the top of two long flights of steps. I watched other skiers in front of us as they entered the two gates, each with two turnstiles. The side panel flashed and gave a high-pitched bleep before releasing the turnstile and letting them through. I got through without fuss, but I heard Cathy squeal as we walked towards the car. I turned to see her dancing from side to side.

  ‘If anyone’s going awry, it’s me. Always,’ Cathy puffed as she twisted again. We each giggled as the attendant gesticulated to her from our side of the barriers and she fumbled with the pocket on her left breast.

  ‘Put your skis in your other hand,’ the attended bellowed over the noise of the rolling gondolas.

  Cathy’s eyes widened at the same time as her mouth as she realised she had blocked her signal. ‘Oh, gosh, I didn’t think,’ she said switching her skis into her right hand and then she rushed forward as it flashed and bleeped.

  ‘There’s so many things to think about,’ I assured Cathy knowing she was the one out of all of us who was less physically confident. I guess she imagined herself inferior in anything connected with sport. She was never into PE or games like us. After school or during lunch, whilst Lou, Kim and I were playing netball or hockey or rounders, Cathy preferred to be on a bench or at home with her nose in a book; she was by nature, less athletic. She was our greatest cheerleader, but not one of us could persuade her to take part.

  I was surprised when she agreed to train with us at Angie’s gym recently. ‘You’re doing very well actually, Cath. Just remember not to panic. That’s the main thing,’ I told her. ‘We’re all learning and I’m sure everything will fall into place. I hope so anyway,’ I said, wondering if I was trying to convince myself too and nudging her arm as we scuttled to catch up with the others.

  ‘Fingers crossed,’ she said, rushing beside me. ‘Thank goodness I got fit before I came. Angie prepared us well, I have to admit.’

  ‘She knows her stuff, doesn’t she?’ I agreed, and I watched as a group in front of us rushed into a moving car. Christoff then stepped forward to the next car. He tossed his skis into a narrow slot at the front of the gondola then snatched Kim’s and Lou’s and slid them into the same slot, tapping Lou’s arm to jump into the moving car. I lifted mine and slid them into the rear slot, which matched the front, whilst he took Cathy’s. Cathy followed Kim into the car and Christoff waited as I climbed in trying my best not to be seen to panic. Christoff then shoved me along the bench before I heard the sound of the doors slamming and the cabin giving a wiggle and whisking us along and up into the brightness of the foggy air.

  ‘Phew, that’s fast,’ Kim said craning back her neck.

  ‘And no view. Very different to yesterday,’ Lou said, scratching her glove on the window and wiping off a patch of condensation.

  After a few seconds of silence, I asked Cathy, ‘Have you heard from Anthony this morning?’

  Cathy

  I shook my head. ‘No, but when I spoke to him last night, he seemed in a much better mood. I was saying to Lou and Angie last night – well, early hours of this morning – getting the boys to take him out was a terrific idea. He enjoyed the bowling and is looking forward to going again and the other things they’ve organised. I don’t know why he gets himself in such a state when I’m not around. I did chuckle to myself though. I’m not sure if he knows that Terry was prompted.’

  ‘It doesn’t really matter if it has given him the kick he needed, does it? The important thing I suppose is for them to keep at it. Even when we’re home, he needs to find something,’ Ginny said.

  ‘And I’m glad he went. The way he was acting and feeling sorry for himself, I thought he would make some excuse. He’s been a nightmare this last year. I think he should have cut down on his hours rather than fully retired. He’s not keen on amusing himself. I did suggest he speak to Chester – do you remember him, his business partner?’

  Tilting her head, Ginny took a few moments. ‘Yes, I do, is he Gordon the founder’s son?’

  With a nod, I said, ‘Yes, that’s right. You see, I’m sure he would appreciate Anthony’s help a few days a week. I know it was stressful, but Anthony wouldn’t have to take on so much as if it were still his business, maybe just a few clients. He loved the work and being around people.’

  ‘Did he ever plan to do anything when he retired? Mike thought about it more than me. He would have loved the opportunity to retire and fulfil his dream of sailing around the Mediterranean. We had promised ourselves after we learned to sail with a flotilla in Greece that we would take further lessons and hire a charter yacht.’

  ‘To travel. And that’s probably where he went wrong.’ I then corrected myself. ‘Or, rather where we went wrong! We did so much that first year, dashing here there and everywhere to see the world in such a short space of time, we couldn’t wait to get back home for a rest. Well, I couldn’t, even though I was able to read and write anywhere, I wanted to be around my books, have my desk and computer without the hassle of recharging everything. I don’t know. We should have paced ourselves and spread the trips out more evenly. We would have had something to look forward to every few months, at least.’

  ‘Why don’t you plan a ski trip with him? He’s never skied, has he?’ Lou suggested.

  ‘Yes, you could teach him!’ Kim said, prompting laugh
ter.

  I pulled a face. ‘That would go down well, wouldn’t it? Can you imagine!’

  Christoff joined in with the laughter.

  We continued suggesting what activities the Flowers could teach the boys only realising we had risen above the fog as we neared the top lift station. I suddenly felt nervous at the prospect of actually skiing on a real ski slope. As the car shuddered, the doors opened and Christoff stepped out and swiftly grabbed at the first skis. Ginny and I grabbed our own and switched apprehensive glances as we trailed the group. Although the sun was still refusing to appear from a murky sky, white peaks paraded luminously as though welcoming us.

  Christoff gathered us a few feet from the lift. As I peered around all I could see was peaks and clouds and several skiers standing in groups to my left on about a thirty-foot square of snow. Some were tightening boots or putting skis on and disappearing over an edge. Watching them made me quiver. How on earth could I ever teach Anthony? He would just bomb down regardless with his confidence. Or would he?

  Was that where we were going?

  Indeed, Christoff led us towards that very edge and threw down his skis.

  Kim squealed first. ‘Oh, my God. Look at that.’

  ‘I know, I think we’re going down it,’ I said shakily as I trudged across to Christoff, wondering if Anthony would now have that same confidence. I tried to think of the last time he showed any great faith in himself like when he used to do diving, or track racing. I couldn’t recall a recent incident. Even on our travels, I hadn’t seen him dive into a pool. But maybe it was just his age. It disturbed me though, how much he had withdrawn recently – from everything.

  As we put on our skis Christoff told us to stay close and take it steady. I was first on with my skis and jostled into position behind him, steeling myself as I watched the others. I couldn’t look down, but I witnessed each face pale as they prepared.

  ‘OK. Gently.’ Christoff turned for the off and ploughed slowly across the slope. I swallowed, keeping my nerve, and ploughed behind seeing the run was only so wide so there was little room for error. He turned easily watching us and I now had to follow him round or slide off the edge. I felt my heart pounding, my teeth biting my bottom lip, my knees shaking as I turned, digging with my heel as I carved around to stop myself sliding. I was round but I was speeding up.

  ‘Plough,’ Christoff commanded.

  Blowing out small breaths, I spread my heels out feeling the brakes but then jolted to a stop. ‘I can’t move,’ I said, fearing that if I shifted another inch, I would slide. As I dared to look up, my stomach churned as I noted there was no netting, definitely no fences on the slope. I gripped in the snow with the edges of my skis. My body was half bent and I was aware that Kim was closing in behind.

  ‘Relax and do what you were doing earlier,’ she urged. ‘Your turns were beautiful.’

  ‘That’s not helping,’ I said, feeling hot and frozen at once.

  ‘Go,’ she said coming closer.

  I took a deep breath and brought up my torso slightly, my teeth on edge as I gingerly let my skis go. I slid towards the edge, quickening, my heart stuck in my throat. I heard myself squeal. I was out of control heading for the next turn.

  ‘Wheee! Whoo!’ My legs miraculously took me, and I was round but spread-eagled into the widest plough. Carefully, slowly, I brought in my skis, carved, trying not to think about it. I ploughed towards Christoff following his tracks in the smooth snow around the next turn. Mindfully concentrating.

  ‘Aaargh, no, no … aargh …’ I then heard Lou telling me not to panic. How could we not panic? We were sliding on a steep mountain. Next, I slid past Ginny – on my side, head first, one ski scraping at the surface, one arm out and a hand desperately seeking a grip.

  ‘Oh, Jeeees,’ I shrieked as I headed straight down, my heart tumbling twice as fast.

  Luckily, Christoff immediately whooshed into action; like lightning he was kneeling on his skis beside me, tugging my arm and spinning round like an acrobat to catch me. Within seconds, my limbs and body relaxed into the safety of his arms.

  ‘Wow,’ Ginny cheered as she passed. ‘What a speedy rescue.’

  As I breathed, a skier with one ski in her hand, passed it to Christoff, and skied off.

  ‘Keep going,’ Christoff instructed, peering up to the others as he lifted me to my feet. I was shaking as I gripped onto his arm with gratitude, my face feeling drained of lustre. Christoff knelt again whilst I clutched his shoulder to get my balance as he placed my loose ski onto the snow parallel with the first. He hammered down the binding with ease, then took my weight as he led my ski boot back in the ski and guided my heel down. I reluctantly let go of him as he slowly rose upright. He took my hand, a patient smile on his face as I composed myself.

  ‘So, you skipped some slope—’ he shrugged with mischief on his face ‘—and the worst is over.’

  I giggled with relief, grateful to be alive as I rubbed the sides of my thighs before boldly filing behind Christoff to join the others.

  ‘Well recovered. Are you OK?’ Ginny said as I reached her. My knees and thighs now screamed with exertion.

  ‘So scary,’ I said. ‘I saw my life flashing before me.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Ginny said, covering her mouth. ‘And thank God for Christoff. I wouldn’t fancy facing Anthony with bad news.’

  Thankfully, I found myself calming from the trauma but bruised with fright. What if something had happened to me and I never got to speak to Anthony again – ever? I wept for myself and Anthony as I carved over the smooth and level surface, wishing I could see him. Talk to him. Explain. Tell him I want to understand. One night out with the boys was not going to provide a resolve or bring all the answers. I had to talk to him, tell him I’ve been so blinded by what I’ve wanted to do these last few years, that I had barely considered or asked him where he was at. Perhaps he’d just got lost.

  I felt a rush of love warm its way through me as I glided, picturing the man I fell in love with, the man that always gave me strength, nurtured me from a shy youth to the woman I had become. I steered warily as we took a right along a wide gently sloping ledge skirting the mountain. But as we rounded, I went suddenly blind. I gasped, taking short sharp breaths.

  Kim

  ‘I’m wrapped, that was awesome,’ I said as Lou crept up beside me.

  ‘Me too,’ Lou said. ‘I feel like a real skier now. We’ve got down our first real run in one piece. Poor Cath though. That did look frightening. I thought she was going to keep going.’

  ‘I’m in awe. What a hero Christoff is!’

  ‘Amazing. So fast and no panic. Ginny did well too, getting out of the way at that sticky bit.’ I glanced up and braked fast. ‘Fog.’

  Lou braked beside me. ‘Where did they go?’

  Screwing up my eyes, I could see the large outline of Christoff, beside one of the long blue poles. ‘This way,’ I said to Lou and skied off towards him.

  Christoff acknowledged us and turned, ready to go. Although thick at that last point, the fog thinned as we followed him down. He led us past a chairlift and down another wider slope, which wasn’t quite so steep as that last. When we reached the end of a span of open snow, he stopped us by another blue post.

  ‘So, when the fog is heavy, and you can’t see, make sure you mentally note the posts. The posts on the right have a red top. The left-side ones are all blue. If you ski from one side to the next, you will be able to stay on the piste, safe. Just take your time. Is that clear?’

  Happy we were all nodding in the right places, Christoff turned and we continued the lovely wide blue slope, which was not only cleared of fog but twinkled as the sun shone down. The warmth wrapped me. It was a much larger version of our nursery slope and I felt my heart lift as I sashayed contentedly across, creating fabulously neat turns. In fact, we all looked to be enjoying it and I’d almost forgotten about what I was going to say to Ginny. Whether I should say anything. I was still nervous, more concerned
after hearing about Paula. Her being at the bowling was unsettling to say the least. I couldn’t trust her not to say anything. And my sister had no scruples when she sought attention. I had to tell Ginny before it was too late. I knew I had to risk my friendship and somehow deal with that, but I felt I owed far more to my friend than my sister.

  Reaching the end of the run and going down another smaller, steeper run to reach a path, Christoff led us to a four-man chairlift. As we queued, we watched as skiers positioned themselves after two small turnstiles, shuffling through smaller gates and along a matted platform to where the metal chair scooped them up. I’d been on one similar in Germany, so it didn’t seem too intimidating. Cathy, however, was peering at me with apprehension. Ginny was psyching herself, whilst Lou was like an athlete, ready to sprint. We staggered forward as the little gates opened and managed to sit ourselves on as the chair swung around. I then pulled down the protective bar.

  ‘Phew. We did it,’ Cathy sighed.

  Ginny pinched her nose as she laughed. ‘It’s one thing after another. I’m amazed I’m doing all this.’

  ‘Aww, but doesn’t it feel amazing? That long piste was incredible,’ I said.

  ‘I thoroughly enjoyed it,’ Ginny answered. ‘I really get it now after that. I mean, when you look around and see all the experienced and beautiful skiers serenely skirting around you, you understand the thrill.’

  Cathy wriggled her legs. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to do that again.’ She paused. ‘Without the fall, of course.’

  Lou roared. ‘That was pretty spectacular, Cath. I wouldn’t mind if you did that again.’

  I felt a jab of pain on the side of my head when Cathy’s helmet knocked mine as she tilted her head with indignation. ‘You’re incorrigible, Lulu Cavendish!’ she said. Then added dryly, ‘I’ll have you in detention after lesson.’

  ‘I just wish I’d had a camera running,’ Lou added.

  As we neared the top of the lift, I sighed. ‘Now all we need to do is ski off.’