by Kiki Archer
Priggy didn’t disguise her grimace. “You’re in our group, Professor?”
Jenna re-joined them. “Professor Ramsbottom needs to ski down the nursery slope first.” She nodded. “I need to make sure that he has the best week possible, just like the rest of us.”
Champagne laughed. “Ooo, all eyes on you, Professor.”
“Not a problem, not a problem,” smiled Marcus relieved to finally hear the click of his boot. “I’m in. I’m off,” he declared, pulling his tinted ski goggles down over his eyes and shuffling slowly forwards towards the bottom of the magic carpet.
Priggy folded her arms and looked over at Jenna. “Why are his ski trousers so short? They’re almost half-mast.”
Jenna smiled. “Maybe the shorter the trouser, the better the skier?”
Champagne laughed and pointed at the bottom of the conveyor belt. “I don’t think so. He’s fallen over. Who falls over on the magic carpet? It’s a flat escalator. How can you fall over on a flat escalator?”
Jenna looked up at Marcus who was now in a very awkward sideways position, being pulled, skis first, up the nursery slope. “Oh crikey! He needs to be standing by the time he gets to the top or that group of kids are going to fall over him.” Jenna pointed at the ten five year olds clad in bright yellow ski-school bibs who’d just whizzed down the slope and back onto the magic carpet. “Use your poles,” she shouted at Marcus.
Marcus dug a ski pole into the rubber conveyor belt and tried to lift himself up, but it slipped and flipped out into the snow instead. “My pole!” he shouted, quickly trying to use the other one to hook it back. He flung it too hard and watched in dismay as it also disappeared in the snow behind him.
“I’ll get them, Professor,” shouted Francesca Hamilton from the top of the slope, pushing off and displaying well controlled snow plough turns.
Jenna watched as the girl gracefully picked up Marcus’s poles. “Can you parallel turn the rest of the way down, Francesca?” she shouted.
“No. I can only snow plough.”
Jenna waited for the girl to skid to a stop in front of her. “Well they’re fantastic snow ploughs, especially with those extra poles you’re carrying,” she said. “Intermediates for now, but I’m sure you’ll progress really quickly. Over to the right please, Francesca.”
“Shouldn’t someone be helping Professor Ramsbottom?” asked Priggy fixated by the drama unfolding at the top of the magic carpet.
Jenna smiled. “Sometimes you’ll meet people in life that you’ll never be able to help.” She watched as Marcus rolled off the top of the conveyor belt and into the snow. The ten five year olds then flopped, one after the other, on top of him. The children did their best to get themselves free, not caring where they stuck their poles as long as they could push out of the ever increasing mound of bodies.
“Ouch,” said Priggy, “he just took one in the nuts!”
Jenna laughed and turned to the running commentary. “The nuts?”
“Yeah, the giblets! Disgusting things, whatever you call them.”
Jenna stared at the confident Kelly Clarkson lookalike. “Priggy, are you out? I’m getting the impression you might be.”
Priggy lifted her hands to her hips and posed. “I’m out and proud.” She did a little wiggle. “Out, proud, loud,” the wiggling stopped and she started to sulk, “but not very laid.”
Jenna laughed again. “You two are going to keep me entertained this week, aren’t you?” She smiled and shouted back up to the top of the slope. “Next.”
“Have you got a boyfriend, Jenna?” asked Champagne.
Jenna gave Willamena Edgington the thumbs-up and pointed her in the direction of the intermediates. “No. I can ski straight. That’s about as straight as I get.”
“A girlfriend then?” asked Champagne with zero distinction.
Jenna signalled the next girl down the slope. “Not at the moment.”
Champagne linked her arm into Jenna’s like they were lifelong friends. “Ooo, don’t worry, we’ll set you up with someone this week, won’t we Priggs?”
Jenna leaned into Champagne’s shoulder and smiled to herself. Sexuality was actually of little importance to teenagers anymore. It was as if Champagne had asked her if she preferred skiers or snowboarders. She unlinked her arm and turned to the over-familiar eighteen year old. “She has to be a good skier though. That’s my only request.”
“Looks?”
Jenna shook her head. “No, I’m not too fussy. It’s all about the personality for me. I like it when someone gets inside my head. When someone gets me thinking about them, even when I don’t want to.”
“Ooo I like that,” said Champagne.
“But I’ll settle for a good skier,” laughed Jenna, waving up to Susan. “Come on then, Madam Quinn. Show us what you’ve got.”
Susan skied with confidence, elegance, and edge, traversing down the slope in no time at all and pulling in front of Jenna with a perfect hockey stop. “Any good?”
Champagne nudged Jenna’s arm once more. “What were you saying about the skiing?” she laughed.
Jenna ignored the comment. “Girls, do you think Madam Quinn’s good enough to be in our group?”
“Yes!” said Priggy far too keenly.
Jenna looked at Susan. “You’re obviously advanced, but you’re fine to ski on your own, if you’d prefer.” She paused and looked up to the top of the slope where Marcus had finally sorted himself out. “If Professor Ramsbottom’s as good as he thinks he is, you two could set your own routes and meet the rest of us for lunch.”
Priggy was now the one to nudge Jenna’s arm. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Jenna looked up to see Marcus, arms flailing all over the place, gathering speed down the short slope. “Snow plough!” she shouted.
Marcus couldn’t hear any instructions. He was too panicked by the fast approaching orange netting at the bottom of the run.
“I’ll save him,” shouted little Daisy Button, pulling herself to her feet and ploughing as fast as she could in front of his path.
Marcus screamed. “Daisy! Move!” But it was too late. He hit the young girl with real force.
“Bloody hell,” gasped Jenna, racing over to the incident as quickly as her heavy ski boots would allow. She hauled Marcus from the back of his ski jacket off the little girl and dumped him back down in the snow. She crouched next to Daisy and lifted her into a seated position. “Are you okay, Daisy?” she asked, looking for any signs of obvious injury.
“What were you doing, Marcus?” snapped Susan, quickly using her poles to unclip her skis and join Jenna at Daisy’s side.
Marcus rolled himself over, wiping the snow from his facial hair. “It’s Professor Ramsbottom in front of the students, please.”
Susan ignored him. “For heaven’s sake, Marcus! I thought you could ski? Daisy, are you okay?” Susan was trying to decide if Daisy Button looked whiter than usual.
Daisy shrugged. “Will I get sent home if I break something?”
Jenna frowned. “Do you feel like something’s broken?”
Daisy pulled her wonky glasses from her nose. “No, not this time.” She fingered the bridge of the thick prescription spectacles. “But these are bent.”
Marcus reached out for the glasses. “I’ll sort them out.”
“I think you’ve done enough,” chastised Susan.
“He has now,” said Jenna, watching as Marcus clumsily snapped the glasses in two.
“Has he broken my glasses? I can’t see without them.” Daisy shrugged. “I’ll have to go home.”
Jenna put her arm around Daisy’s little yellow ski jacket. “This is your first school trip. You’re bound to get a bit homesick. It’s natural. But I want you to give it a chance. Lisa’s a wonderful teacher and you’re going to have the best morning in the ski garden. The slopes are really gentle and you’ll be playing lots of fun games.”
“But my glasses.”
Jenna reached into the inside
pocket of her ski jacket. “Your glasses are going to be the coolest on the slopes.” She pulled out the bright pink tape she kept for securing loose ski straps. “Pass them over, Professor.”
Marcus handed the glasses over and continued to dust the snow from his jacket. “Is no one going to check how I am?”
“You said you could ski,” hissed Susan.
“I can. I spent a full afternoon on Mount Jungfrau when I was a child. Plus I’ve completed level seventeen of Family Ski on the Wii.”
Jenna continued to wind the long pink plaster around the glasses muttering under her breath. “I’ve heard it all now.”
Marcus sniffed haughtily. “Have you skied Mount Jungfrau?”
Jenna nodded. “I have actually. You ride up the slow funicular railway to the top of the mountain and take in the views of the huge glacier.” She shook her head and turned to Susan. “They have a tiny slope where tourists can try their hand at skiing. You hire the equipment for an hour at a time.” She shook her head. “Marcus, that isn’t the same as spending a season on the slopes.”
“I came down without my poles. That was the problem.”
Jenna looked at the glasses and the new pink plaster around the bridge. “Pretty funky hey, Daisy?”
Daisy put them back on and shrugged. “They can’t look much worse, I guess.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? He hit you at quite a pace.”
Daisy got to her feet. “I’m fine. He’s podgy. It didn’t hurt.”
“What were you doing stepping in front of me like that anyway?” Marcus still hadn’t managed to untangle himself from his skis.
Jenna stood with Daisy and reached out her hand to help lift Marcus up. She spoke firmly. “Marcus, I’d like you in the beginners group for two reasons. One, because you’re a beginner and two because I want an extra pair of eyes on Daisy.”
“I’m fine,” said Daisy without conviction.
Marcus looked over at Susan. “Madam Quinn. I’ll go with the beginners just to make sure Daisy doesn’t develop concussion—”
“I’m fine,” whispered Daisy once more.
Marcus kept talking. “Well, I’ll just make sure. But no doubt Lisa will move me up a couple of groups at lunchtime when she sees what I can do with my poles.”
Susan was embarrassed by the kerfuffle, embarrassed by the delay, and embarrassed by her colleague’s inability to behave in a normal fashion. “Fine,” she said, signalling the few girls over who hadn’t been surrounding the incident. “Right. I think we’re ready. If everyone could listen carefully?” She made sure all eyes were on her. “You’ll be with your instructors for the two hour morning session. The sun’s getting stronger so make sure you use your sunblock sticks. We’ll meet for lunch at the Viking Restaurant at the top of the Pleney ski lift, and then it’ll be another two hour session in our groups in the afternoon. Can I remind you all that you’re representing St Wilfred’s and I expect exemplary reports from your instructors.” She scanned the excited faces. “Any questions?”
Eugenie Rohampton put her hand up.
“Yes, Eugenie.”
Eugenie scrunched up her face. “Isn’t that illegal?”
“What?” Susan could see she was pointing at the back of Marcus’s ski pants.
“Flashing your ginger bum pubes at your students.”
“What?” Susan was getting flustered. The laughter was getting louder.
“Professor Ramsbottom’s trousers have split. He’s not wearing any pants. He’s got ginger pubes on his bottom. Look, you can see them.”
Marcus flung his hand to his backside, having assumed the drop in temperature was due to his tumble in the snow. “Disaster!” he hollered, enjoying the attention far too much. “They must have split as I fell. That’s one for the memory bank!” He guffawed loudly. “You girls will have so many anecdotes to reminisce about when you get back to school.”
“Why are you pant-less, Professor?” Francesca Hamilton was bending down and peering at the curly ginger hairs peeping out from between his fingers.
“Francesca, get away from his bottom!” Susan was flapping. “Professor, can I kindly suggest you go back to the ski shop, change your skis, and get a better fitting pair of trousers.”
Marcus removed his hands and gave Susan the thumbs up. “Good plan, Madam Quinn.”
The girls started to cheer, laughing at the show.
“It’s wobbling!” shouted Eugenie, quickly reaching into her ski jacket for her camera.
Professor Ramsbottom sashayed away from the group towards the ski shop. “This really is the stuff of legend,” he said, giving one final look over his shoulder at the gobsmacked young ladies. “The stuff of legend.”
Chapter Seven
Susan watched the small group of beginners plod off behind Lisa, their Club Ski instructor. They were the last lot to leave the nursery slope after their extra instruction on ski-carrying technique and efficient ways to walk through the snow with heavy boots on. They obviously hadn’t grasped it yet, because the group of girls were stumbling around and dropping equipment all over the place. Susan realised that it would be a very long walk to the cable car and a drama filled morning in the ski garden for this group of beginners. For a moment she felt sorry for Marcus. Some of the girls would cry. Some would give up. Some would even become bored and try and ski the slopes before they were ready. She turned to Jenna. “Does Marcus really have to spend the morning with them?”
Jenna clipped her boots into her skis. “Yes. He’s a beginner. Lisa’s great. She’ll have him up and running in no time.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing though, isn’t it? Having him learn alongside Daisy Button and the other first timers?”
Jenna pulled her huge grey beanie hat down over her ears. “He’s not good enough for the intermediates. Hugo’s taking them over to the blue run at the top of the Nabor. He’d struggle.” Jenna checked her watch. “If we leave now we’ll have time to head up to the Chamiaz Express and ski over to Les Gets. It’s a glorious day, the sun’s shining and the snow’s white. Let’s have some fun, ladies.”
Priggy, who was raring to go with her tinted goggles on, cheered. “Yay! Black runs.”
Jenna shook her head. “No, blues and reds today. We need some time to warm up.” She turned to Susan. “It’ll take a couple of days before everyone’s completely settled into the right groups and if it makes you feel any better I’ll set some time aside to spend with him one on one.”
“Who’ll take us then?” asked Champagne as she applied more gloss onto her already glistening lips.
“Madam Quinn’s more than capable.”
Susan thought about the added responsibility of guiding a very eager Champagne Willington and Priggy Bunton-Chatsworth across the slopes. “No, I think you’re probably right. He may be good enough to join us in a few days anyway.”
“Would you like that?” asked Jenna mischievously.
“Professor Ramsbottom would,” teased Champagne, shuffling up next to her teacher. “Can we call you Susan, seeing as it’s just the four of us?”
“No you cannot!”
Jenna tapped her poles together. “Let’s call her Susie.” She pointed her ski pole at everyone individually. “Priggs, Champs, Jenna and Susie. Now we sound as cool as we look. Come on ladies! Let’s hit the slopes.”
Susan pulled down her sunglasses, disguising the sparkle of adrenaline and excitement she felt coursing through her body. “Fine,” she said, “just don’t let the other girls hear you.”
Jenna pushed off with her poles and slid down the gentle incline towards the bottom of the Belvédère chairlift, flagged by Champagne and Priggy, with Susan following on behind. Jenna shouted over her shoulder. “We’ll take the chairlift up to the top, ski the blue run over to the bottom of the Chamiaz Express, ride that all the way up to the peak and then we’ll ski a couple of red runs into Les Gets. We’ll probably get about an hour over there before we get the Chavannes chairlift back up to the top so we c
an ski down into Morzine to meet the others at The Viking for lunch.”
“Sounds perfect,” said Susan, slowing her pace and sliding into the metal turnstile. She lifted her arm and the sensor flashed green as it detected her lift pass. It opened quickly allowing her to shuffle through into the waiting position at the plastic yellow bars. Jenna, Priggy, and Champagne all did the same, pulling up neatly beside her. It was as if they were horses, all waiting for the off. The wide chairlift swept around the corner and scooped up the four skiers in front of them. At the same time their yellow bars opened, allowing them to scoot as quickly as they could into position. Moments later the next chairlift swept around the corner and hit the back of their thighs, scooping them forwards and upwards.
“Heads back everyone,” said Jenna, pulling down the safety bar.
“And we’re off,” gasped Susan, breathing in the crisp fresh air. She closed her eyes and exhaled. “It makes you feel so alive.”
Champagne scrunched up her nose. “What does?”
“This.” Susan pointed at the beautiful snowy mountains with jagged peaks that were piercing the vibrant blue backdrop of the sky, dotted with a small scattering of wispy white clouds. She looked down at the tips of the tall pine trees and the needles coated with a fresh powdering of snow overnight. She inhaled deeply and let the cool, crisp air kiss her cheeks. “It’s breath-taking.”
Priggy leaned forwards, gutted she hadn’t positioned herself next to Madam Quinn. “I agree, Susan.”
Champagne burst out laughing. “You sound like an idiot!”
“It was your idea to call her Susan!” said Priggy. “Anyway, sorry Susan, I was saying—”
Susan laughed. “It does sound a bit odd.”
Jenna smiled to herself, pleased to see her old classmate starting to loosen up. “Call her Susie.”
“No one calls me Susie.”
Priggy started to talk again. “I feel you, Susie—”
“Yeah, in your dreams you do,” laughed Champagne.
Priggy banged her pole against Champagne’s shins. “I’m saying I feel it too. The rush of life you get when you’re up here. It’s so hard to describe to people who haven’t skied. You feel so free. So at one with the earth. You feel like Mother Nature’s got you in the palm of her hand and she’s lifting you up to show off all her splendour.”
