Breaking the Ice

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘She’s not like me, at all. She’s bubbly, you know, the type of person that walks into a room and makes everyone aware of her - in a good way though,’ Samantha spoke hurriedly.

  ‘She sounds great,’ Jimmy replied.

  ‘I’m sorry we took up your time on the ice, I…’ Samantha started, scratching around in her brain for something sensible to say.

  ‘Not at all. Look, here are the girls with your water. Just take five and drink it slowly,’ Jimmy told her, rising to his feet and preparing to leave.

  ‘I will and I apologise for - you know, for…’ Samantha started, feeling a complete idiot for a hundred different reasons all at once.

  ‘I’ll catch you later,’ Jimmy replied.

  Felicity, Jane and Karen joined her and Felicity handed her a polystyrene cup of water as Jimmy skated back onto the ice.

  ‘Are you alright now? You looked really white for a minute back there. Thought we were going to have to perform Airway, Breathing, Circulation,’ Jane commented, her fear and tears temporarily taking a back seat.

  ‘Of course I’m alright. We must get back to work, goodness it’s almost half eleven and Dave wanted an early lunch. Pie shop has steak and kidney on offer for the first twenty customers,’ Samantha spoke hurriedly as she swallowed all the water in one go.

  What had she been thinking of? Damn Cleo for mentioning rehab and damn her stupid subconscious for allowing her thoughts to filter out. She was convinced there was a flaw in her brain, she didn’t know anyone else who had the same problem in as severe a degree as she did. The moment she thought something it was usually at her lips and out before she had a chance to process the ‘Stop! You cannot say that’ thought. How could she have asked him about rehab? She barely knew him. He was a performer at the Civic Hall. There were boundaries you did not cross, there was respect to be paid, there was distance to be kept. Cleo would have died if she had been witness to it. She would have known exactly what to say. She never got tongue tied - well at least not with words.

  Five

  Cleo was very much tongue tied later that evening. Jeremy, the hot brogue wearer, (glossy black hair and film star looks) could hardly keep his tongue away from her. He and Cleo were sat in the second row, together with two bottle blondes from the estate agents. One was called Chantelle, the other was called Harmony. Sat with them was the much talked about Connor. Why Cleo thought that Connor would be a good match for her Samantha didn’t know. He was short, no more than five foot four inches and little in every way. He had a thin chest and narrow hips and he was wearing tight beige trousers and a white shirt that just made him look shorter and narrower. He wasn’t unattractive in the face, in fact he had quite a pleasant look about him and had managed quite a nice smile when they had been introduced. But all the time, while Cleo was bigging him up, Samantha couldn’t help looking at his tiny feet thinking that they could probably share shoes.

  The Civic Hall auditorium looked resplendent, almost like a wintery film set courtesy of the lights and smoke on the rink. Every seat was occupied and the audience chatted excitedly amongst themselves waiting for the performance to begin.

  Samantha’s ice skates were already hurting her feet. She had a chafe on her shin where the tongue wasn’t positioned properly and her ankles were aching. She had skated round the rink too many times to count, selling programmes and souvenirs. It had deteriorated into a double act of her and Felicity as, to no one’s surprise, Jane and Karen had both called in sick.

  It was a few moments before the show was due to start so Samantha left the ice and hopped up the steps next to Cleo in order to change into shoes and man the fire exits.

  ‘So Sam, you’ve seen the costumes. How much tight Lycra round nice firm arses can we expect tonight?’ Cleo asked loudly for Chantelle and Harmony’s benefit.

  ‘I believe the costumes are made to a very precise measurement if that’s what you’re asking,’ Samantha replied as she removed the skates and put on her trainers.

  ‘My sister! She’s so innocent. Honestly Chantelle, Samantha will actually be admiring the skating!’ Cleo exclaimed with a loud laugh that prompted a smirk from the two bottle blonde women.

  ‘I didn’t know you could skate Samantha. It’s very impressive,’ Connor spoke, leaning his thin chest forward so he could see past Jeremy and Cleo.

  ‘It might not be so impressive once she has the ice cream tray round her neck at the interval - I think there may be some balance issues,’ Cleo told her new acquaintances.

  ‘By the way we’re out of Worcester sauce crisps at the bar,’ Samantha told her sister as she got to her feet and tucked the ice skates under the seat.

  ‘What?! Sam! Product control! You knew I was coming tonight!’ Cleo wailed as if a crime had been committed.

  Samantha hurried down the steps and walked around the arena to take up her position at one of the rear exits. She hadn’t told Cleo about the incident with Jimmy that morning. She had tried hard not to think about it at all. The inappropriate laughter problem she had been aware of, the feeling like her chest was going to burst open, like a cadaver having its rib cage cracked on an episode of Silent Witness, she had not. It had been hideous, she had been so embarrassed and she had felt vulnerable. And people had watched her being vulnerable. She hated that more than anything. And then, after all that had happened, she topped it off by asking Jimmy about something personal, something only a brainless tabloid reporter would ask. She cringed as she remembered her stupidity.

  But if she had told Cleo she would have focussed on the hand holding and the consoling arm. She could hear her now ‘Jimmy Lloyd held your hand, he actually touched you! You skated with him!’ Cleo would have screamed and made a fuss and probably wanted to smell her to see if she could smell him. No, she couldn’t tell Cleo. All her questions would be too much to bear, and she would have to relive the coughing fit and the insane question about rehab. She only hoped Jimmy didn’t mention that to Dave. Although from what she remembered about their conversation at the bar the previous night, he didn’t seem to be a big fan of Dave.

  ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Skating on Broadway a show that combines the sounds of the stage with the moves of the world’s most renowned ice skaters. On the ice, please welcome former Olympic gold medallists Dana Williams and Jimmy Lloyd!’ the compere announced.

  Samantha heard Cleo scream out loud and saw her, the peroxide blondes and two other women in the second row jump to their feet and begin clapping wildly as Jimmy and Dana skated onto the ice.

  The couple wore pale blue outfits and Samantha knew from the running order they were skating to ‘Memory’ from Cats. As they took their positions the crowd silenced and the music began.

  Dana looked like a Cinderella doll. Her hair was swept back into a tight bun, her dress was a beautiful mix of lace, Lycra and diamantes and her skin positively shone under the spotlights. Samantha watched her effortlessly move across the ice in synch with both Jimmy and the music. She was so graceful, so in control, so not like her. Self consciously she smoothed her bobbed hair behind her ears and pulled her Woolston Civic Hall jumper lower down over her waist.

  There was no denying that both Jimmy and Dana were fantastic skaters who complimented each other perfectly. Jimmy was the power and the strength and Dana was the grace and the elegance. There was an entourage of over thirty other skaters in the show but it was Jimmy and Dana who truly wowed the crowd during their many varied routines.

  Just before the interval Samantha had confided in Felicity about the four thousand tubs of ice cream in the freezer and, after laughing hard for a minute or so, she had confirmed her agreement to Samantha’s plan to put twice as many Berry Fruits in each serving tray in the hope that less alternative would increase sales. There was brief disappointment when the vanilla and chocolate ran out but a vast quantity of the four thousand were sold and Samantha was looking forward to being able to fit into the freezer again without having to breathe in.

  By the end of the s
how the crowd were all on their feet, screaming, cheering, clapping and insisting on an encore of the final group performance. Samantha had never seen the audience so animated after a show and some had even brought flowers to throw onto the ice for the performers.

  As the lights went up Samantha opened the set of double doors she was manning in order for people to leave the arena. She thanked people for coming and then saw Cleo and her guests preparing to leave, no doubt for the bar. However, just as she was starting to wonder where the slim line Connor had gone, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  ‘Hi Samantha,’ he spoke with a smile.

  ‘Oh hello,’ Samantha responded.

  ‘It was a great show, I’m glad Cleo invited me. I didn’t really think ice dance would be my thing but it was really very enjoyable,’ Connor told her.

  ‘Yes,’ Samantha answered, not knowing what else to say.

  ‘So, are you going to be finished soon?’ Connor enquired.

  ‘Finished?’ Samantha queried.

  ‘Working. I mean I’ve seen you escort people to seats, check tickets, skate around selling programmes and ice creams, now you’re seeing people out of the building. There can’t be anything else for you to do surely,’ Connor remarked.

  ‘Oh there’s plenty to do. I have to help pick up all the empty tubs of ice cream, the used ticket stubs and other general rubbish the audience leave behind and I’m in charge of locking up,’ Samantha informed him.

  ‘Well, maybe I could stay behind and help you. Cleo and Jeremy are going for an Indian, I said we might join them a bit later,’ Connor spoke.

  Oh no, he had done it. He had asked her out and he had done it in such a way that she was convinced Cleo had almost put the words into his mouth. Cleo had also probably told him that she hadn’t had a date in over a year and made her sound like the most desperate twenty four year old in the whole borough of Woolston. Samantha knew her sister meant well but she also knew she thought the only way to be happy was to be bedding men on a regular basis. Oh what a complete disappointment Samantha must be to her.

  ‘No, I’m allergic,’ Samantha blurted out and she moved away from Connor, pulling the exit doors out wider and standing with her back against one of them.

  ‘Allergic?’ he queried.

  ‘To Indian food. It brings me out in a rash,’ Samantha explained.

  ‘Oh, Cleo didn’t say. Indian was her idea and I thought…’ Connor began, his thin face looking puzzled.

  ‘Oh that’s typical Cleo. She loves Indian food, she wouldn’t want any of my allergies getting in the way of her having a good vindaloo,’ Samantha answered.

  ‘Any of your allergies?’

  ‘I’m allergic to most food served in restaurant environments. Pizza, burgers, kebabs, pasta, Chinese, Cantonese, Thai, Pan Asian…’ Samantha started, desperate not to leave anything out.

  ‘Fish and chips?’ Connor offered.

  ‘I have a potato intolerance and an adverse reaction to omegas three and six,’ Samantha spoke quickly.

  Connor nodded and smiled at her.

  ‘And, I won’t be finished until gone midnight probably,’ Samantha added.

  ‘It’s OK, I get the message. It’s a shame though. I think we might have had a lot in common,’ Connor said putting his hands in his pockets, a signal that he was admitting defeat.

  ‘It was nice to meet you,’ Samantha replied politely, glad he wasn’t being too persistent.

  ‘If you do change your mind about how you feel about dating, Cleo has my number,’ Connor told her.

  ‘How I feel about dating? What do you mean “how I feel about dating”? I date,’ Samantha exclaimed immediately.

  ‘It’s OK. Cleo told me you’re a bit apprehensive about the whole dating thing,’ Connor answered.

  ‘Oh did she. And what else did my sister tell you?’ Samantha wanted to know.

  ‘I think she was just being protective you know, the big sister act,’ Connor responded.

  ‘Well perhaps it should have occurred to Cleo that her taste in men might not be mine and that if I wanted a date I would just go out and get one,’ Samantha snapped at him, surprised by her own fury.

  The tone and volume of her voice was enough to make some of the audience leaving the show look at her and Connor. Samantha felt her cheeks going red and she just shut her eyes, indicating that their conversation was over. She didn’t know what else to say to him. She closed her eyes tighter and almost wished him away. Be gone, be gone. When she had the courage to open them again he had left.

  Cleo really did think she was a charity case. Now, in a desperate attempt to see Samantha with a man, Cleo was even telling the potential mates that she had dating issues. She didn’t have dating issues, she’d been on dates, granted not recently, but she had done it. Although, thinking about it she hadn’t really enjoyed any of the dates she’d been on. Well, the date with Joe was OK, until they’d got back to the house, gone into the bedroom and the piercing was revealed. Perhaps Cleo was right, perhaps she was kidding herself. Maybe she did have dating issues. The more she thought about it the more it became clear. Goodness, she did have dating issues. She never went on dates any more. In fact lately, after Joe and the body jewellery, she would do anything to avoid the opposite sex. She wouldn’t walk down any street with scaffolding erected on it incase there were workmen waiting to whistle or comment on her or enter into flirtatious banter. She had been caught out once by a wolf-whistle, fallen into the road and put a hole in her Civic Hall trousers. She also always chose a checkout at the supermarket with a female cashier. She told herself it was because the women were generally quicker at checking out, but really it was because she didn’t want a man giving her her pasta twists and accidentally touching her hand. She even blushed every time the teenaged boy in the newsagents made conversation with her about Cleo’s Star Life magazine. In fact the only man she interacted with was Dave. That couldn’t be healthy.

  She was still thinking about her failed dates while she finished picking up litter. She’d sent Felicity and Aaron home half an hour ago and all that was left to do was lock up when Milo had finished with the bar. Although, as it took him longer and longer each night, she was coming to the conclusion that he spent more time helping himself to drinks than he did tidying up.

  She tied the last black bag of rubbish and set it down with the others she’d congregated at the front of the hall. The lights of the arena were low and the ice rink looked eerily empty. It was a stark contrast to its appearance earlier, when it had become a plateau for bright lights, glittery costumes and fantastic skating. The skaters had been wonderful, so skillful and in perfect unison with each other. They really put her capabilities to shame. She picked up her skates from underneath the seat and looked at them. She turned around and looked about the arena. There was no one there, the crowds had gone almost two hours ago. All the performers had headed back to the hotel and only Milo was left in the building and he was probably busy knocking back vodka and Red Bull. As quickly as she could Samantha pulled off her shoes, put on the skates and made her way onto the ice.

  The air was cold but it felt refreshing as it hit her. She skated round, trying to emulate some of the moves she had seen performed earlier. The women had spun and twisted and turned without putting a foot out of place and when they’d been lifted high in the air they had held themselves with such poise. They’d been dainty and coordinated, things Samantha didn’t know the first thing about.

  She skated on, gaining speed and relishing the feeling. She lifted one foot off the ice and straightened her leg behind her, copying a move from the Miss Saigon routine. She smiled to herself. She was shaky but she had tried it and no one had seen her. She felt like a naughty schoolgirl doing something she shouldn’t. It was unlike her, she didn’t do anything she shouldn’t, but this felt fun.

  She was so busy racing back round the rink to try the move again she didn’t see Jimmy taking to the ice behind her. She pushed off, gained momentum and gingerly lifted
her leg up behind her again.

  ‘Nice work,’ Jimmy announced, appearing at the side of her.

  Samantha panicked, shocked at the sound of a voice so close to her. Her leg came down, she slipped in her desperation to stop herself and she landed with a bump on the hard, cold floor, jarring her back. Dainty and coordinated, hmm.

  ‘God, I’m sorry. I thought you heard me come on the ice, I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you OK?’ Jimmy asked, bending down beside her.

  ‘I’m fine. I was just being stupid. I’m sorry I was on the ice, I didn’t think anyone else was here,’ Samantha responded, quickly getting to her feet.

  ‘Just me and some guy on the bar. He let me back in. What are you still doing here?’ Jimmy wanted to know.

  ‘Cleaning up, health and safety regulations. It all has to be properly disposed of,’ Samantha informed him.

  ‘I can imagine. So are you going to keep me company? Skate a while?’ Jimmy asked her.

  ‘No. No, I should get going. Cleo will be wondering where I am,’ Samantha spoke, skating across the rink towards the exit.

  ‘I don’t think she will. She seemed rather attached to Jeremy. Said they were going for an Indian and then on to a club,’ Jimmy responded, following her to the edge of the ice.

  ‘You met Cleo! Oh I’m glad. She’ll be so pleased, she thinks you’re fantastic,’ Samantha gushed, happy for her sister.

  ‘I didn’t have a lot of choice. She burst into my dressing room with two other women with really blonde hair. They screamed a lot and wanted photos,’ Jimmy told her with a smile.

  ‘That was Chantelle and Harmony. They work with her,’ Samantha answered, preparing to get off the rink.

  ‘Come on, don’t go. Skate with me a bit, tell me what you thought of the show,’ Jimmy asked her.

  He had put his hand out and touched her bare arm. Her arm wouldn’t usually be bare but she’d got awfully hot sweeping up and had to remove her Civic Hall jumper. Now she was wearing the short-sleeved Civic Hall polo shirt and he’d touched skin. Her stomach turned over and she felt sick. Then the words were tumbling to her lips again, threatening to gush.