by Roz Marshall
She pursed her lips at him. "I'll keep you to that!"
-::-
Callum slunk quietly into the back of the room and found a seat, annoyed at himself for being late. I'll have to be more organised tomorrow, and start doing the lesson allocations earlier. He scraped his plastic chair forward and glanced around, clocking the many rainbow-hued ski school jackets in evidence and the air of macho bravado that emanated from everyone — even the women.
The tousle-haired guy from the charity stood up to speak. "Well, good morning, everyone," he said with a smile, "I'm Neil Crane from the Ski Development Trust, and I'd like to thank you all for coming along today. We're going to start this morning's session with a short talk on the theory of coaching from our trainer, Vicki Ingram."
An hour later, Callum sat back and narrowed his eyes. Well, I've learned something today. He scratched his ear. Even girls can be full of it. Vicki, the trainer, was explaining some concept or other of coaching theory, but he wasn't buying it. You either have it, or you don't, I reckon. You're either a teacher or a doer. All this psychology mumbo-jumbo won't change that. Did that make him arrogant? Probably. Did that make him wrong? Not necessarily.
He'd had to bite his tongue more than once when Vicki had asked a question and Ed Griffiths, from Ski-Easy, had jumped to answer it with some trite phrase that sounded like it had come straight out of a self-help textbook. Ed was obviously desperate to be the selected coach from the Cairns ski area. That guy's got delusions of adequacy. And I suspect he might be over-reaching himself, even then. But, looking on the bright side, it might provide some entertainment for the rest of them. Callum smiled to himself. There was always a silver lining.
Twenty minutes later, they were all standing at the top of the hill looking down at the G.S. course Vicki had set for them. "This isn't about your personal racing technique or ability," she explained, "it's about learning some of the skills that make for a better racer, so you can pass those on to your pupils." This sounds more like fun. Less baloney and more skiing. Bring it on!
Over the course of the day, they worked on their technique. If one of them showed an example of a common problem, Vicki used it to highlight possible improvements. Ed, of course, was still trying to impress her, and, if Callum wasn't mistaken, was also trying to flirt with her. Unsurprisingly, Ben was the star skier, but he had less teaching experience than the others, and it showed.
At the end of the afternoon, Vicki and Neil called them all together. "Thank you all for attending today," said Neil, "and especial thanks to Vicki for her excellent training." There was some polite applause and a cheer from Ed which petered out self-consciously when nobody else joined in. "Next time," continued Neil, "we're going to bring along some real ski trainees and you'll get the chance to work with them, one-to-one, to improve their race technique."
Despite his initial misgivings, Callum realised that he'd actually enjoyed the day and was looking forward to the next session. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be a coach after all, he mused, then looked across at Ben. But I think he quite wants it, too. And of course there was Ed, who was desperate to win. Oh well, tomorrow should be interesting!
BEN PUSHED OPEN the door to the ski school hut and noticed Lucy sitting at the counter in Jude's usual place. He smiled at her. "Hi Lucy. Did your mum bring you up after school?" he asked.
She blushed bright pink and stammered, "Er, y-yes," then dropped her head and started examining her chipped nails.
He shook his head, and sat down to pull off his ski boots. However much he enjoyed skiing, that was always the best part of the day; the relief and return of sensation when he removed the tight-fitting boots was more satisfying than… He stopped that thought in its tracks, looked up, and spotted Lucy making moon eyes at him again.
If he hadn't been in company he'd have sniffed his armpits. Is it my new deodorant? First Debbie, then Linda and now Lucy. What was going on today? I wonder if one of them sent that card? He sat back and thought this over. How would I work out which one, though? Ben shook his head. Women were definitely from Venus, and he'd need more than a spaceship to work them out.
-::-
Ben hurried out of the car and shouted over his shoulder to Debbie, "I'll unlock the house and get the telly on." When he opened the porch door, he spotted a couple of letters lying on the mat. The first was for Zoë, and the other was one with an N.H.S postmark for Debbie. He was about to turn and hand it to her, when something caught his attention, and he looked at it again.
That label. That font. They look the same as… He turned to stare at Debbie. Could it be her? He pressed his lips together, then held out the envelope. "Letter for you. Looks like it's from the hospital."
"Oh, it'll probably be my check-up appointment. They said they would let me know. Thanks."
-::-
They'd missed the first five minutes of the programme, but fortunately it had just been a recap of the previous day's events at the Winter Olympics and he hadn't missed any of the race. Phew.
Debbie appeared a minute later carrying two mugs of tea. "Wasn't G.S. what you used to race, Ben?"
"Aye." He gave her a thumbs-up as a thank-you for the tea, and she took the hint not to interrupt the coverage with any more questions.
The others returned from work in dribs and drabs, until there was a crowd of them around the TV watching the first run of the race; shouting encouragement at the start gate, wincing if a racer had a fall, and holding their breath when the skiers crossed the finish until their time was flashed up and the placing determined. It raised memories of last week's ski school race and gave them a vicarious thrill when a racer did well.
None of them were surprised when one of the fancied Austrian racers won the Giant Slalom, and none of them were surprised that the sole British competitor was one of the unfortunates to crash spectacularly and fail to finish. "Typical!" said Callum, and then glanced guiltily at Ben. "Sorry!"
"Did you know him?" Debbie asked, wide-eyed.
"Aye, we used to train together, and we were room-mates sometimes…" He glanced down, remembering. "But he's too much into partying to make it as a racer. He needs to take it more seriously."
"D'you miss it?" asked Spock.
"The partying?" He saw that the quip had sailed straight over Spock's head, and added hastily, "Oh, you mean the racing?"
He thought of the set of dumbbells he'd bought with his prize from the race last week, of how he'd pushed himself to improve his times when he went running in the evenings, of how he'd been watching what he ate and reducing the number of beers he consumed each week. "A little." A little bit more every day.
DEBBIE WRIGGLED HER shoulders in a vain attempt to dull the ache. With her broken rib, the couch wasn't the ideal place to sit, but the addition of a couple of cushions propped her more upright and she could almost get comfortable. At least she was able to choose where she sat, since everyone except Ben had gone out to the pub after the coverage of the Olympics finished on TV.
As the credits started to roll on the medical drama they'd been watching, Ben unfurled himself from his floor-cushion. "D'you want a brew?"
She wrinkled her nose. "No, but a glass of juice would be good, please? I need to take some more painkillers."
A couple of minutes later, Ben was back and handed her a tumbler, putting his mug of tea on the side table and sitting beside her on the couch. "I've not seen that programme before," he said, nodding at the TV.
"Yeah. It's good isn't it?" She shook a couple of tablets into her palm from one of the plastic bottles in her pocket.
"Are nurses really like that though?" He took a sip of his tea. "I mean, they portray them like they're really irreverent and they don't seem to like the patients much. Was it like that when you were in hospital?"
"No! Not at all. They were really nice to me. Not like on that programme."
"Were they not too busy to talk to you?
"Well, most of the time. But I was the youngest person there by about forty yea
rs — you saw what it was like when you visited — so I think they liked having someone younger to chat to." She swallowed her pills with a sip of juice.
Ben nodded contemplatively over the top of his mug, then looked sideways at her. "So, did one of them help you with the card?"
"What?" Debbie nearly spilled her drink.
"The Valentine card. Did one of the nurses help you with the envelope?"
How does he know? She put the tumbler down. "What Valentine card? Did someone send you a card?"
"Yeah, remember, you saw it the other day when Marty brought it through. And you went bright red."
Shit, so I did.
"And then today, the printing and the label on your appointment letter were just the same as the envelope on the card."
She felt her cheeks going pink. Why, oh why do I have to blush all the time? I can never get away with anything.
He put his tea back on the side table. "It's okay, though, I think it's rather sweet."
"Really?" She felt a rush of relief.
"But I always thought you had a thing for Marty?"
She gulped. "Well, I sort of did, at the beginning. But he's such a flirt, he doesn't stick with any girl for long, does he?"
"No, you're right there."
She screwed up her courage. "Are you seeing anyone just now?"
He shook his head imperceptibly. "No." He glanced at her. "I was involved with someone when I was racing, but that's all over now." He shrugged. "I'm a free agent."
Her mouth went dry, and she took a sip of juice while she tried to work out if she was brave enough. Might he say 'yes' and then laugh at me and say he was only joking, like the boys at school would've done? She thought through what she knew about him, and couldn't recall him ever being mean; he'd always been straight and gentlemanly with her.
She took a big breath. "Could you, I mean, would you…"
He turned to look at her, and the intensity of his gaze made her falter. As the silence dragged on, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, and her heart leaped. Maybe he does like me!
Slowly, cautiously, she reached across and took his hand. "Would you want to go out with me?" She gave him a cheeky look. "Be my Valentine?"
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "I'd be glad to."
How romantic! It's like something out of Jane Austen. Her heart sang.
"I know you're probably still too sore just now to do much more than kissing, so we'll just take it easy until you're better."
She nodded again, and smiled at him. I have the best boyfriend in the world! She stopped herself. I have a boyfriend! That was a novelty she'd have to get used to. Then a thought occurred to her. "Ben, when you guys came to visit me in the hospital after my accident, did you go straight back to the car on the way out?"
He frowned. "Uh, I dunno." He scratched his neck while he thought, then shrugged. "I maybe visited the little boys' room first, I don't remember."
She nodded. Must've been him. How romantic!
"Why?"
"Oh, nothing, I just got a nice surprise the next morning."
He looked momentarily perplexed, and then shrugged and smiled, "That's nice," before looking at his watch. "Time for bed for me — coach training again tomorrow."
"I'd better head to bed as well, see if I can get comfy now I've had my pills."
He jumped up, helped her to get up from the couch, and then took her hand to escort her to the hall. When they got to his and Marty's room, he turned her towards him and put a hand on her shoulder. "G'night, Debbie."
"Goodnight."
He leaned in and his face got bigger and bigger until it became a blur and she felt his lips on hers. Before she even had time to close her eyes, he was squeezing her shoulder and saying, "Sleep well," before heading into his bedroom.
She stood for a moment as the tingle on her lips dissipated, and then smiled to herself as she drifted towards her bedroom at the end of the hall. The sound of footsteps behind her made her turn. Has Ben come back for another kiss? But it was just Callum. Probably returning from The Rowan.
"Hi Callum, good evening?"
"Uh, yeah. Is it okay if I grab the bathroom first?"
"Sure." That would give her a few minutes to savour her new status as a girlfriend. She liked the sound of that. It had a magical ring to it, a resonance. Girlfriend. Yeah!
-::-
Callum leaned against the sink, slowly knocking his forehead against the bathroom mirror, trying to erase the picture in his head of Ben kissing Debbie. How did that happen? She'd never shown any interest in Ben. Had she? She'd seemed to be interested in Marty earlier in the season, and of course there was that creep Colin from New Year, but that was old news. But Ben? He hadn't seen that one coming.
This is going to be hard. He swallowed, then picked up his toothbrush.
As he went through the motions of brushing his teeth, he stared at his reflection and cursed his ginger hair, his irregular features, his short stature. I'll never look like the hero in one of Debbie's romance novels. I don't do tall, dark and handsome. He blinked hard.
His ski pupils were easy enough to impress — they seemed pre-disposed to fancy their ski instructor, no matter what he looked like. A goggle-tan, a uniform, and a bit of patter seemed to be enough for most wannabe skiers. But Debbie was different. He'd hoped that she'd eventually come to see him as more than a friend, now that they were — literally — living together. But after what he'd seen tonight, that seemed unlikely. His head jerked up. Maybe she'll ask me to swap rooms with Ben. That would really scupper his plans, nebulous though they were.
He rubbed a knuckle across his eye and took a deep breath. I'll just have to hang in there. Maybe it'll fizzle out.
Tuesday 21st February
BEN WASN'T SURPRISED when Trudy turned up as one of the 'guinea pig' pupils for coach training. As one of the successful candidates from the race trials on Saturday, he'd guessed that she might be there, along with her chaperone, Neil.
Neil had also brought along the reclusive Kane, who hadn't been picked but was still young, so was a potential candidate for the following year.
Ben's hopes that he would he would have the opportunity to work with Trudy were dashed almost immediately, when Vicki paired her with Callum, before turning to Ben and saying, "And Ben, if you could work with this young man here." She pointed at Kane. Ben sighed inwardly. This is going to be hard work.
He turned to Kane and said, "Okay, buddy, looks like it's you and me. Let's head up to the Creag Dheighe."
Neil gave him a rueful smile "I'll tag along for the first run, if that's okay?"
"Aye, sure."
-::-
At the top of the race run, Ben turned to Kane and said, "Okay, let's see you do a warm-up run through the course. Come back up here when you're finished."
The boy started through the slalom poles, and Ben stepped over to stand beside Neil. "If it's not breaking the rules, I could do with a bit of insider information?"
Neil raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"How did people get through to you when you were shy as a kid? How can I connect with Kane?"
"Ah, well, Kane's advantage is that he's very self-motivated. When he gets stronger and his technique gets better, he'll be formidable. But his disadvantage is that he hates being the centre of attention." Neil looked at the ground and seemed to search his memory. "I was like that. I think what the swimming coach did was to basically ignore me, and to talk to the group, including me. The only time he talked to me directly, that I remember, was to praise me."
Be nodded. "I can see how that might work. I suppose it might be easier for Kane, working one-to-one?"
"Yes, but don't get worried if he doesn't respond to you. Just assume he's heard what you said and that he'll do what you ask."
"Okay." Then a thought struck him. "Will he ask if he doesn't understand something?"
Neil's brows knitted together. "I'm not sure. Perhaps not. Or perhaps not until he t
rusts you."
The boy had finished his run and was ascending the ski tow, so Ben fell silent while he thought about what he should work on to improve Kane's skiing.
When the boy joined them, Ben was leaning on his ski poles, gazing down the hill at the slalom course. "So, Kane," he said, without looking round, "if I was skiing this course, I'd be thinking about two turns ahead, all the way down. So the turn I'm doing right now is not just getting me round the pole I'm at; it's also setting me up for the next gate." He moved a hand from left to right. "It's like living in the future. Do you think you could try and do that?"
He turned to look at Kane, and got an imperceptible nod before the boy looked away.
"Okay, off you go and give it a try."
As Kane started through the course again, Neil said, "I'd better head away and see how Trudy's getting on." He looked sideways at Ben. "Don't want to be accused of favouritism."
The morning carried on in a similar fashion, with Ben's advice to Kane being very much one-way, but he was pleased to see that the boy was slowly improving. Good, it's working.
Vicki stopped by after an hour or so to check how they were progressing; she listened quietly in the background for a couple of runs and then skied off without saying anything, so Ben had no idea if she thought he was doing well or badly, or how he compared to the others. But the fact that he was bothered about what she thought made him realise that he cared about the result, about who would be chosen.
Being a coach wouldn't be such a bad deal after all, I suppose. Like Debbie had said, at least it would be a lot less stressful than racing. Maybe there's something to be said for the civilian life. But first there was the minor hurdle of being chosen for the programme. He sighed. What was that about less stress?
-::-
Across the hill, Callum could see his housemate talking to the young Dundonian boy and, unbidden, the picture of Ben kissing Debbie in the corridor last night flashed through his mind. He shook his head and looked down at the slalom course. Maybe this is something I'll be able to do better than him?