Breaking the Ice

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Breaking the Ice Page 25

by Mandy Baggot


  ‘Oh Sam, it doesn’t work like that. Rehab is something you have to do on your own - completely on your own. You have no contact with the outside world at all - I won’t even be able to call you,’ Jimmy explained.

  ‘But I could go to America with you. I could wait for you, in a hotel or something,’ Samantha told him, remembering an article she had once read about how many millions of viruses you could catch from air travel. She tried to erase it from her mind.

  ‘America’s a big place Sam. You told me you get panicky when you go to another part of London. Let me tell you London has nothing on the vastness of the cities in the States,’ Jimmy responded.

  Multi storey buildings rising up in front of her, hundreds of people all rushing somewhere, barking into their mobiles or walking tiny little dogs, and hundreds of yellow taxis all heading towards her beeping their horns. OK, now the Oprah show was sounding positively tranquil.

  ‘Well, when are you going? I mean in two weeks I won’t have anything to keep me here and I could go with you. I have to step outside of my box sometime, Cleo’s always telling me that,’ Samantha spoke banishing all imaginings from her mind.

  That was just New York, he wasn’t going to New York, America was a big place, there was bound to be quiet there somewhere. Perhaps she could go to rehab too, she could certainly do with the rest.

  ‘I’ve got a flight in the morning,’ Jimmy answered.

  This time Samantha felt like her heart had actually stopped beating entirely. She could feel the colour draining away from her face, her hands felt icy cold and she knew she was trembling again. This was it. He was leaving her. He didn’t want her. He had spent one night with her and that was enough.

  ‘You’re leaving tomorrow,’ Samantha said as best as she was able.

  ‘Yeah,’ Jimmy replied.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Samantha said again, moving backwards on her wheeled chair, away from him.

  She couldn’t be near him. What had she done? She thought he cared about her, she thought he found her liking black and white films cute and kooky. He so obviously hadn’t.

  ‘Yes, but I’m coming back. As soon as I’ve sorted myself out, the minute I know I’m ready I’ll be back,’ Jimmy told her.

  ‘And how long will that take? Weeks? Months?’ Samantha questioned bitterly.

  ‘I really don’t know. If I did I’d tell you, but you just can’t put a timescale on it,’ Jimmy spoke.

  ‘You don’t know,’ Samantha repeated, getting off her chair and standing up.

  ‘Sam, I am coming back,’ Jimmy reassured her.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Samantha stated, her voice faltering as she avoided looking at him.

  She couldn’t look at him any more, it was tearing her up. She had to pretend he was someone else, to strengthen her resolve and save face.

  ‘What? Why?’ Jimmy asked.

  ‘You haven’t got any intention of coming back here - I mean what have you got to come back for?’ Samantha questioned, looking at the floor.

  Think of someone unattractive, swap their faces, don’t cry.

  ‘For you! For us!’ Jimmy insisted.

  ‘I don’t believe you. I think I’ve just been some sort of project for you, a distraction - something to take your mind off your own problems. All this was just a hobby for you. A guinea pig to teach how to skate, a freak who has panic attacks to feel sorry for and a mediocre entertainments centre to try and rescue,’ Samantha yelled at him her whole body quaking.

  ‘I know what you’re doing Sam and it won’t work. You think it’s easier to put up that brick wall again than to believe that something good might happen between us,’ Jimmy replied.

  ‘Well, you had me fooled, for a while at least,’ Samantha carried on her heart crumbling.

  Johnny Vegas. It wasn’t Jimmy it was Johnny Vegas.

  ‘Don’t do this Sam, don’t turn what we have into nothing because that isn’t how it is. I’m in love with you,’ Jimmy stated, watching her moving anxiously from one foot to the other and playing with her fingers.

  ‘Don’t you have packing to do? Hair gel? Ice skates? Lemons?’ Samantha replied, still unable to meet his eyes.

  ‘I’m not leaving you like this,’ Jimmy told her.

  ‘Well how would you like me to be when you leave me? You tell me, I have a wide range of reactions, I’m sure I can be accommodating,’ Samantha babbled.

  ‘Sam, listen to me. I’m going back to America, I’m going to see my counsellor and then I’m getting the first plane back here - to be with you,’ Jimmy told her sincerely.

  ‘Counsellor was a very bad choice of word given the current hall closure scenario, I think perhaps you should have said therapist,’ Samantha replied, staring into space as if he wasn’t there at all.

  The monkey and the tea bags, Benidorm. Think Benidorm.

  ‘No matter what you say I’m going to come back for you because I know how you really feel. I know you Sam and I know what’s going on in there and in there,’ he said tapping his head and then his chest.

  She swallowed and tried to think of anything else other than the fact that she hadn’t actually ever felt pain like it. She had fantasised about him, admired him, longed for him and fallen in love with him and just when she thought she had him, he was going away.

  ‘You’re hurting and I appreciate that but I’m doing this for the future, for our future,’ Jimmy insisted.

  ‘Yeah? Well don’t bother. Drinkdon’t drink, I don’t care,’ Samantha answered before she could stop herself.

  Jimmy was still looking at her, unmoving and Samantha started to feel very uncomfortable. She was beginning to feel like she was going to faint. His image was starting to blur round the edges and she had black spots appearing in her line of vision.

  ‘Could you go now please?’ Samantha asked him as beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead.

  ‘I’ll go, but I’m coming back,’ Jimmy insisted.

  Samantha didn’t look at him, couldn’t look at him.

  ‘Here, I got you this the other day. I was hoping to find a right time - I guess that’s about now,’ Jimmy said and he placed a gift wrapped package on the mixing desk. The present lay between them like a bundle of unspoken thoughts.

  Samantha swallowed and watched him as he went to the door. He took one last look at her and then left. The door swung shut and Samantha just watched it close. It wasn’t until the last crack of light from the corridor disappeared and the door was completely shut that she let go. The breath caught in her throat and she started to cry. The tears rolled down her face like a torrent. What had she done?

  She wiped at her eyes with her fingers and caught sight of the package. She picked it up and with a sniff she began to unwrap it. It was a book. She discarded the paper and pulled it out.

  It was a first edition of ‘Gobolino the Witch’s Cat’.

  Twenty Three

  When Samantha arrived home that evening she was greeted by the strong scent of Worcester sauce as soon as she opened the door. The smell shook her already delicate disposition and she gagged.

  After Jimmy had left, the day had just got worse. News had got out about the hall closure and she had been ganged up on by all the staff working that day. Milo and Aaron had done a lot of shouting and finger pointing and Jane had sobbed and wailed. She had had no choice but to confirm the news and apologise they hadn’t heard it from her. She told them the proposed date of closure and then she burst into tears and fled the angry employees for the walk-in freezer. She would usually have hot-footed it to the sound booth but she couldn’t bear to go back there. It was where Jimmy had last been and it probably still smelt of his aftershave.

  When she had straightened the boxes of ice cream to her satisfaction and her fingers had turned so red and numb she almost couldn’t open the door to get out, she hid in the alleyway behind the kitchen. She spoiled Gobby with fresh fish, not leftovers, and she stroked and held him. It made her cry all over again as she had thought about
the way Jimmy had been with him and the book. The beautiful book.

  ‘Sam?’ Cleo’s voice called from the kitchen.

  ‘Yes, I’m home. No need to call any of the emergency services,’ Samantha replied half-heartedly as she took off her coat and hung it up on the peg in the hall.

  ‘Quick! Come in here! I need help before I have a culinary disaster,’ Cleo yelled.

  Samantha entered the kitchen to see Cleo, wearing the cooking apron over a leopard print cat suit. Her hair was tied up and she had splashes of sauce on her face.

  ‘It’s all sticking to the pan, how do I make it stop?’ Cleo asked as Samantha came up to the cooker.

  ‘What stock did you have in there?’ Samantha asked as she leaned over the pan.

  ‘It’s chopped tomatoes and garlic and…’ Cleo began.

  ‘Worcester sauce, I know. We’ll just put some olive oil in to stop it sticking and we’ll see what happens,’ Samantha informed and she took hold of the spoon and made a grab for the oil.

  ‘It’s for Jeremy, according to the recipe it’s good with pasta,’ Cleo spoke.

  ‘Is it lamb?’ Samantha queried, looking at the meat in the pan.

  ‘No, beef. Does it look alright?’ Cleo queried, concerned.

  ‘It looks fine,’ Samantha replied with a heavy sigh.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Cleo asked her.

  ‘No,’ Samantha replied, suddenly feeling giddy and needing to sit down.

  She was starting to feel like she had spent the last couple of weeks behaving like an extra on Holby City.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Cleo queried, turning off the hob and going to sit opposite her sister at the table.

  ‘Everything’s just gone wrong,’ Samantha stated her voice wobbling as her composure began to slip.

  ‘Oh God, what’s happened? Is it Darren? What’s he done? If he’s done something to you I will kill him,’ Cleo exclaimed immediately.

  ‘He’s leaving,’ Samantha blurted out as tears began to spill out of her eyes.

  ‘What? Leaving? Leaving where? London?’ Cleo enquired not completely understanding.

  ‘Leaving the country, tomorrow,’ Samantha said as her crying escalated.

  ‘What?! Well where’s he going? What’s he doing?’ Cleo queried desperately.

  ‘He needs to go back to America for a while. He, er - has some unfinished business there,’ Samantha managed to get out.

  ‘Shit! He isn’t married is he?’ Cleo asked, putting her hands to her mouth.

  ‘No, not married, just going away,’ Samantha restated the words sticking in her throat.

  ‘Well, is he coming back?’ Cleo wanted to know.

  ‘That’s the thing, he says he is. He says he’s coming back for me, but I just can’t believe him,’ Samantha continued, taking a deep breath.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘He doesn’t have anything to make him come back here except me and I can’t be enough can I? Not when there isn’t anything else. I mean, look at me! Dowdy uniform, crap hair, personality disorder,’ Samantha spoke, still crying.

  ‘Hang on, now I’m really confused. I thought his mother, the ice skating fanatic lived here,’ Cleo replied, quoting from the Darren Jacobs profile Samantha had created.

  ‘She does, but - you know - she’s elderly and she has a sister who dotes on her. She doesn’t really rely on him,’ Samantha lied quickly.

  ‘Well when did all this happen? I mean you spent the night with him last night, didn’t he mention this trip then? Or might it have killed the moment? What a bastard! He took advantage,’ Cleo spoke angrily, beating her dinner with the wooden spoon.

  ‘No, no it wasn’t like that. He didn’t know last night, not really. It was sudden and that isn’t a line he’s fed me, I know it’s true,’ Samantha told her sister as she wiped her nose with the sleeve of her Civic Hall sweatshirt.

  ‘And how long has he said he’s going for?’ Cleo questioned, tasting the food.

  ‘He doesn’t know,’ Samantha stated sadly.

  ‘Bastard,’ Cleo spat.

  ‘No, no he isn’t. He’s wonderful and handsome and he’s been there for me and helped me with so many things, I’m just terrified that I’m in love with him and what if I’m in love with him and he isn’t going to come back? What do I do then? I mean what happens then?’ Samantha asked, thinking of Jimmy.

  ‘I think you’re right to be cautious, it all sounds like a tall story to me,’ Cleo replied.

  ‘And then on the other hand, what if he’s telling the truth? What if he really does love me? Like properly, like in the Sandra Bullock films. What if he really has to go to make things work between us and he is coming back?’ Samantha enquired.

  ‘Then he’ll come back when his business is sorted and you’ll know. It’s called having a bit of faith and some patience. OK, I’ve never been good with either, but you have more willpower than me,’ Cleo told her.

  ‘But I can’t wait, I need to know. I should trust him, trust is so important to him. I was so horrible to him, I acted like I didn’t care because I was scared to let him know how I really feel,’ Samantha spoke.

  ‘Well I think it was right to be guarded. I mean men are deceptive little shits when they want to be. I should know, I’ve dated most of them,’ Cleo told her.

  ‘But if Jeremy told you he was going away but that he loved you and he’d be back would you believe him?’ Samantha asked her.

  ‘Yes, I think I would,’ Cleo answered.

  ‘Oh goodness, I’ve been so stupid. How could I have said what I said to him? I have to see him, I have to make it right, I have to tell him how I feel,’ Samantha exclaimed, checking her watch.

  ‘Jeremy’s a terrible liar though, he wouldn’t be able to get a fib past me. And he’d be putting himself in line for some serious below the belt injury if he tried,’ Cleo told her, eating some of the meal

  ‘I’ve got to get ready for work. Listen, don’t wait up, or call the hospitals or Mum and Dad. I probably won’t be home tonight,’ Samantha spoke, getting up from the table.

  ‘Sam, just be careful,’ Cleo called after her, as Samantha disappeared out of the room.

  ‘I’ve been careful all my life and look where that’s got me,’ Samantha replied as she ran up the stairs.

  That evening she hardly watched the show. Dana was skating with Andrei Olapov as her partner and although she appeared more relaxed on the ice than she had been when partnered with Jimmy, Andrei didn’t have any of Jimmy’s charisma or showmanship. It was like comparing caviar with Shipman’s fish paste.

  When Jimmy skated there was an air of anticipation that fell over the audience as if they expected nothing less than brilliance. Jimmy was skilful, graceful and strong, and all three of those things she’d experienced at close quarters. She looked at her watch for the fourth time in as many minutes. She had a plan.

  She had tried to call the hotel earlier but every time she had got halfway through the number she had rung off. She didn’t know what to say, she would get tongue tied and it would all come out wrong. She needed to see him, his face, his smile, the Minstrel eyes.

  She wasn’t sure but she hoped Jimmy would come back to the hall after the show. If he was feeling half as dissatisfied with their farewell as she was he would have to come back. The hall was where they had spent so much time together. It was where they had got to know each other and it was where they had fallen in love.

  And when he came back she would be there waiting for him. She would apologise and say she understood and make things right between them. For the first time ever she couldn’t wait for the show to finish.

  However, the audience bayed for two encores and due to having a party of disabled guests from Kent, getting everyone to leave promptly took longer than ever. Eventually, the auditorium was empty and Samantha hurried to lace up her boots and get onto the ice.

  She began to skate around, practicing all that Jimmy had taught her, twists and turns and spins. She looked around
the auditorium, searching for signs of someone entering but there were none. Perhaps he wasn’t coming, after all she had said to him. The horrible, horrible things. And what if he had believed the horrible things? She hadn’t meant it, she had been upset, she had been trying to deal with the situation the only way she knew how. He had to realise that.

  She carried on skating, imagining the music, performing the moves as best as she could without a partner. She turned around on one foot and then looked again towards the entrance Jimmy usually arrived from. The door was unmoving, there was silence, apart from the sound of her blades on the ice.

  She looked at her watch and tried to concentrate on her skating. He had to come here, she had to have the chance to say she was sorry and tell him how she felt. After everything she had been through, life couldn’t be that cruel.

  She performed the fast step section of the routine, span around too quickly and fell with a bump onto the ice just as the door to the auditorium opened. Samantha looked up expectantly and scrabbled to her feet, brushing the ice from her jumper.

  ‘Bar’s all cashed up, is it OK if I go? My mate’s got a party,’ Milo’s voice called as he entered the arena.

  Samantha felt tears spring to her eyes as she looked at her colleague. She could barely bring herself to speak, disappointed that he wasn’t Jimmy.

  ‘Yes, you go. I’ll lock up,’ Samantha managed to speak as she skated towards the edge of the rink to leave the ice.

  ‘Sorry about today Boss - you know - having a go at you about the hall closing and that. We know you did your best to keep it open. Aaron saw the news report, you breaking into the council offices with that plastic doll. Genius,’ Milo said with a grin.

  ‘I’ve been under a lot of pressure,’ Samantha answered.

  ‘Yeah, well, see you in the morning.’

  ‘Yes, see you in the morning.’

  ‘Your skating’s great by the way. My cousin skates a bit and not even she can lift her leg up like that,’ Milo remarked as he prepared to leave.

 

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