Breaking the Ice

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘Then fight! Take some of your own advice. Go back to the hall, tell Nigel it wasn’t your drink and keep on telling him until he believes it!’ Samantha ordered him, gulping down more of the bottle.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know if I can face him again. I don’t know if I can face anyone again,’ Jimmy spoke quietly.

  ‘No I don’t know either really. I’m talking rubbish aren’t I?! And talking a lot! Perhaps the most I’ve ever talked, maybe alcohol really works for me. I’m not gasping for breath, I’m not laughing or coughing. In fact this is great!’ Samantha slurred with a tipsy smile.

  ‘I think maybe you’ve had enough,’ Jimmy said, attempting to take the bottle from her as he came to sit next to her.

  ‘Enough of what? Vodka or life? Do you know what I did tonight? Thanks for asking by the way. While you were throwing away your skating career I was holding the members of Woolston Borough Council hostage. Yes! Me! Holding people hostage like an Al-Qaeda operative! Can you believe it? I broke a door down with a bridal mannequin and then I locked us all in and swallowed the key so they’d have to listen to my proposal. And did they? Well not really, they briefly paid me lip service and then the police turned up. I had a ride back to the Civic Hall in a patrol car,’ Samantha informed him.

  ‘Sam, I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask, I…’ Jimmy started about to put his arm around her.

  Samantha stood up and walked away from him.

  ‘No you didn’t ask. So, let me tell you, if you think you’ve had it rough tonight then think again because I have had it infinitely worse. And, after all that Jim, after the failed attempt to change their minds, the key and the cops, I get here and find you staring at a bottle of booze with your bags packed. Last night you told me you liked me and tonight you’re ready to leave - I must be some kisser,’ Samantha continued to babble.

  ‘Sam, this has nothing to do with you,’ Jimmy insisted.

  ‘Nothing to do with me! Well that’s just great, that makes me feel really special,’ Samantha replied, finally loosening her grip on the vodka and putting it down on the table with a bang.

  ‘I didn’t mean that how it sounded. What I meant was that how I feel right now isn’t to do with you or with us. You’re my only reason to stick around right now,’ Jimmy spoke.

  ‘You don’t want me! Look at me! I’m a mess! I’ve got no job, I’ve got no personality, I’ve got a crazy sister who got all of the good genes and at the moment I’m seriously wondering whether it was entirely sensible to swallow a door key,’ Samantha announced, clutching at her stomach.

  ‘I do want you Sam, I just don’t want to hurt you. Although that alcohol in my drink wasn’t mine, what was the first thing I did when I was hurt and angry? I went and bought a bottle of vodka and, OK I didn’t drink it, but for a few moments I really wanted to. If anyone’s a mess here then it’s me,’ Jimmy spoke.

  ‘But you’re trying and you’re moving on,’ Samantha spoke, her stomach making her shift uncomfortably on the spot.

  ‘I want to make it work. I want to make it work with us,’ Jimmy stated sincerely.

  ‘I want to be sick,’ Samantha exclaimed and she rushed from the bedroom into the en-suite bathroom.

  She vomited. All the vodka and everything she had eaten that day. And then she began to wretch again and cough and choke, holding her throat and gasping for air. Jimmy rushed to her aid and thumped her hard on the back. The council office key shot out of her mouth, hit the sink and landed with a clatter on the tiled floor.

  Samantha took a deep breath and looked up at Jimmy who was standing over her, holding her shoulders and rubbing her back.

  ‘Sorry,’ she spoke weakly and then passed out.

  The next thing she knew a large tub of Berry Fruits ice cream was on stage, presenting Mr Radcliffe to the applauding audience. But it wasn’t Mr Radcliffe as he normally appeared, thin and grey, it was Mr Radcliffe’s head on Dave’s rotund body with Mrs Randall’s coiffured crop. And then the image changed and it wasn’t Mrs Randall’s hair she could see, but the lovely tawny brown, spiky hair that complimented the chocolate eyes so perfectly. Samantha opened her eyes and quickly saw that it wasn’t a dream. The owner of the hair and eyes was looking down at her and she was led on a bed.

  ‘Hey,’ Jimmy greeted.

  ‘My throat’s sore,’ Samantha croaked as she tried to sit up.

  ‘I think that was probably the key. It might be a good idea to go to the emergency room, there might be damage,’ Jimmy spoke, helping her to sit up and prop herself up on the pillows.

  ‘The key! Oh no, the key,’ Samantha remarked, suddenly remembering the events of the evening.

  ‘Yeah, the key. We should get you checked out,’ Jimmy spoke.

  ‘No, I’m fine, I don’t want to make a fuss and I…’ Samantha began.

  ‘You’re scared of hospitals,’ Jimmy finished off for her.

  ‘Yes,’ Samantha admitted with a sniff.

  ‘Well, let’s try the king of all cures. I’ve made some tea,’ Jimmy told her and he got off the bed to go to the table.

  ‘What happened to my hair, it’s damp and it smells,’ Samantha said, trying to look at it and smelling.

  ‘You were sick, your throat is sore - the key,’ Jimmy recapped for her as he brought the tea over.

  ‘Oh goodness, I was sick? Oh no, I’m sorry, I…’ Samantha began as she flushed with embarrassment.

  ‘It’s OK, you apologised already, just before you passed out,’ Jimmy said, handing her a cup of tea.

  ‘Oh no, the vodka - I drank the vodka. Where is the vodka?’ Samantha said, clamping her hands to her mouth in shame.

  ‘I poured it away,’ Jimmy assured her.

  ‘Goodness, what was I thinking of?’ Samantha asked him as she accepted the cup.

  ‘You’ve been under a lot of pressure,’ Jimmy stated.

  ‘Oh no, the hall! They’re closing the hall and they’re building a swimming pool at the Presbook Centre,’ Samantha spoke as a feeling of panic and upset suddenly overwhelmed her like a wave breaking at the height of the crest.

  ‘Yeah, the hall,’ Jimmy said with a shake of his head.

  ‘And the skating show, you’re leaving the show and - hold on, you were packing - there was a suitcase,’ Samantha remembered and she looked around the room for evidence to back up her memory.

  ‘I’ve put it away and everything is back in the closet,’ Jimmy informed her.

  ‘You’re not going to leave?’ Samantha queried.

  ‘Not before I’ve had a chance to speak to Nigel and put my case forward. You were right, I’ve gone through too much to carry on running away. Yes, I’m an alcoholic but I am recovering and I don’t deserve people jumping to assumptions without proof,’ Jimmy told her.

  ‘And I said all that? Goodness, I must have drunk a lot of vodka,’ Samantha said with a sigh.

  ‘So tomorrow, I’m going to speak to Nigel and I’m going to make him listen to me,’ Jimmy spoke.

  ‘What about tonight? Can’t you speak to him tonight? You could call him and…’ Samantha began.

  ‘Sam it’s two thirty in the morning,’ Jimmy informed her.

  ‘What?! It can’t be! I mean, I got here before ten I’m sure I did. The show was still going on and…’ Samantha exclaimed, checking her watch.

  ‘You slept for quite a while after the being sick thing,’ Jimmy spoke.

  ‘Oh,’ Samantha remarked, again flushing with the shame of it.

  What must he think of her? Getting pissed and puking everywhere was something Cleo did, not her.

  Jimmy took hold of her hand and softly stroked each finger as if it were the most delicate thing he had ever held. Samantha swallowed, his touch disturbing her in the most enjoyable of ways. She was barely able to breathe.

  ‘But you should know that I didn’t put away the luggage because of Nigel or for the ice show. I unpacked it for you,’ Jimmy told her.

  Samantha looked at him, watching him take a nervous bre
ath.

  ‘I put it all away again because I’m falling in love with you,’ Jimmy told her.

  He was holding her hand so softly and Samantha watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest. She looked up at him, taking in the sincerity of his expression and all she wanted to do was hold him. Slowly, with a trembling hand, she reached out to touch his face, caressing his cheek and running the tips of her fingers over his lips and the scar below. She saw him close his eyes and felt him kiss her fingers gently, slowly, sensually. Her heart was hammering like it was ready to burst but, despite everything that had happened that night, despite feeling really unwell and probably having a Yale imprint on the inside of her throat, there was no doubt in her mind that this was her moment. She couldn’t quantify what she felt for him and she had difficulty speaking it. She would just have to try to express it. She kissed him firmly, passionately, not wanting to leave time to think or analyse. He kissed her back and ran his hands through her hair, full of desire, yet lovingly, full of consideration. Carefully he lowered her down onto the bed and sat astride her, looking at her as if he was drinking in every part of her. Samantha reached up and pulled his sweatshirt up and over his head. He helped her take it off and discarded it. She admired his torso, ran her hand across his smooth chest, his stomach and then stopped at the belt of his jeans.

  Jimmy took hold of her hand and moved it back onto his chest. She could feel his heart racing.

  Samantha put her hand back onto the buckle of his belt and tugged at the leather strap.

  ‘Sam,’ Jimmy began his voice faltering.

  ‘Sshh,’ Samantha ordered as she began to slowly unbutton his jeans.

  Needing no further persuasion, he removed her top and began to kiss her every part. Samantha shivered at the sensation of his mouth and held him tightly to her. She was about to lose her virginity to Jimmy Lloyd, an alcoholic ice skater, with vodka on her breath and sick in her hair. Yet somehow it couldn’t have been more perfect.

  Twenty One

  ‘I like black and white films, the really cheesy ones with singing and dancing and pretty actresses with operatic voices,’ Samantha stated with a laugh and she leaned over on her side and kissed Jimmy on the mouth.

  ‘No way! Like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers doing all those corny routines,’ Jimmy said, rolling his eyes.

  ‘Yes! Exactly like that and I’ll thank you not to mock or I won’t tell you anything else,’ Samantha replied, moving a little away from him.

  ‘OK, OK, I’m sorry, come back,’ Jimmy urged and he put a strong arm around her and pulled her back towards him.

  ‘It’s your turn,’ Samantha told him.

  ‘OK, I like action movies and I’m ever so slightly scared of spiders, but don’t tell anyone. That’s two things, two kisses, right here,’ Jimmy said pointing at his mouth.

  ‘Well I like tuna and mayo sandwiches and I can only use one particular brand of toothpaste because the others bring me out in a rash. Now that has to be worth three at least,’ Samantha told him.

  ‘Uh huh, I knew about the tuna mayo but as this game is win/win, go ahead,’ Jimmy replied, waiting for her to kiss him.

  Samantha smiled and kissed his lips, brushing his hair off his face as she did so. She looked at him, his eyes closed, looking so perfect. She wondered if she should…

  ‘I was a virgin,’ she blurted out.

  ‘So was I once,’ he answered, opening his eyes and taking hold of her hands.

  ‘No, I mean I was a virgin, until now - until tonight - with you,’ Samantha spoke nervously her face reddening all the time.

  ‘I know what you meant,’ Jimmy replied, giving her hand a squeeze.

  ‘Does it matter to you? I mean, I don’t know what you - well the thing is - Cleo says that…’ Samantha began to gabble.

  Jimmy put a finger over her lips.

  ‘Sshh, I really don’t want to hear Cleo’s philosophy on virgins, I think it would probably scare me,’ Jimmy told her.

  Samantha didn’t respond.

  ‘Does it matter to you that I can’t remember some of the women I’ve slept with?’ Jimmy enquired.

  ‘I expect you were drinking. I mean if you hadn’t been drinking you would’ve remembered - wouldn’t you?’ Samantha asked him.

  ‘I’d like to think so,’ he replied.

  ‘Well, I just thought I would tell you,’ Samantha responded nervously.

  ‘Hey, I’m glad you did. And you told me without having a panic attack - things are getting better already,’ Jimmy answered, pulling her closer to him and wrapping his arms around her.

  Samantha smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of security. She felt safe and comfortable and looked after. She wanted to feel that way forever.

  ‘I don’t want tonight to end or tomorrow to start,’ Samantha admitted, enjoying having his naked body next to hers.

  ‘Tomorrow will be OK,’ Jimmy told her.

  ‘I have to tell the staff they’re going to be out of a job. I have to apologise to the council for holding them hostage and pay the repair bill for the doors. Then I have to face the prospect of living my life without the Civic Hall,’ Samantha spoke with a sigh.

  ‘Don’t give up hope just yet,’ Jimmy replied, stroking her hair.

  ‘They aren’t going to change their minds. Believe me, they made that very clear,’ Samantha spoke.

  She immediately began having a flashback to earlier when Mrs Randall was baring her teeth at her and Mike, the burly bearded councillor she had kneed in the balls when he had got too close, had ceremoniously ripped up his copy of her proposal.

  ‘Stranger things have happened,’ Jimmy said.

  ‘I’m way ahead of you. I’ve already thought about torching the Presbook Centre but talked myself out of it. I don’t want a reputation with the local police, it would kill my mother,’ Samantha answered.

  ‘I just hope I get to talk to Nigel before Dana or someone else from the show sells me out to the press,’ Jimmy told her with a heavy sigh.

  Samantha felt for his hand and interlinked it with hers.

  ‘I used to lie about being able to do long division and I own a Barry Manilow record,’ she spoke and she turned to kiss him again.

  ‘Barry Manilow! Now that bothers me way more than the black and white films!’ Jimmy exclaimed, moving away from her slightly.

  ‘Well, when you told me you eat lemons I did think it was a bit freaky but I was kind and smiled and pretended that was normal. You don’t have an S Club 7 CD do you?’ Samantha enquired.

  ‘S Club 7?’ Jimmy questioned, not knowing what she was talking about.

  ‘Good answer,’ Samantha replied with a smile.

  ‘I want to know everything about you Samantha Smith,’ Jimmy told her as he rolled over on top of her.

  ‘Well, we’ll see. You know I’m not much of a sharer,’ Samantha replied, reaching up and putting her hands on his shoulders.

  ‘But you’re willing to try?’

  ‘Put it this way, you know more about me than anyone else on the planet - even Cleo,’ Samantha spoke.

  ‘That’s some accolade,’ Jimmy said, smiling down at her.

  ‘Oh! Oh my goodness! I’ve just remembered something,’ Samantha exclaimed, removing her hands from his body and putting them to her mouth.

  ‘What is it?’ Jimmy asked.

  ‘Yesterday, before Mr Radcliffe arrived, when I came to see you in your dressing room, Dana was in there. She had hold of one of your bottles, I’m sure of it,’ Samantha told him as she thought back.

  ‘Well, I had kind of figured it was her. She’s the only one who hates me enough to want to do this. That and the fact she witnessed the whole argument with Nigel and couldn’t keep the smug look off her face,’ Jimmy answered.

  ‘But if I tell Nigel I saw her with the bottle then he’ll believe you and you can go back to the show and she’ll be kicked out,’ Samantha spoke cheerily.

  ‘It might help, but you have to understand that there’
s no one better than Dana at getting her own way,’ Jimmy replied.

  ‘But he’ll have to listen to you now. I mean it’s obvious, I saw her with one of your drinks - it was her,’ Samantha said hopefully.

  ‘Let’s not worry about it now, it’s five a.m. let’s try and get a few hours sleep,’ Jimmy suggested, kissing her.

  ‘And when we wake up the nightmare of last night will all be over,’ Samantha said, curling herself around him and getting comfortable.

  ‘Hey, it wasn’t all bad,’ Jimmy responded, holding her close to him as he shut his eyes.

  Samantha smiled and closed her eyes too, feeling content and deliciously happy. Lying beside him, feeling the motion of his breath and the warmth of his skin on hers and knowing how he felt about her, made facing the prospect of life without the Civic Hall more of a dull ache rather than a fatal blow.

  The next time she opened her eyes her head ached with every blink. She coughed and put her hand to her sore throat. And then it hit her where she was. She was naked, in bed, in Jimmy’s hotel room. She pulled the covers up to her neck as Jimmy came out of the bathroom, fully clothed.

  ‘Hey, you’re awake,’ Jimmy remarked, smiling at her.

  ‘My head hurts and my throat’s sore,’ Samantha spoke with a cough.

  ‘Vodka, council office key - haven’t we been over this already?’ Jimmy asked as he slipped on his jacket.

  ‘Yes, I know. It seems like days ago all that happened, not hours. What time is it?’ Samantha enquired, still keeping the covers high.

  ‘Almost nine,’ Jimmy told her.

  ‘What?! Nine?! I have to be at the hall, Felicity and Milo and Jane will be there but I need my uniform! I’ll have to go home for it! Goodness! Where are my clothes?’ Samantha exclaimed her eyes desperately scrutinising every corner of the room.

  ‘Here,’ Jimmy said and he brought them over to her.

  ‘Thanks,’ Samantha replied, flushing.

  ‘Listen, I’m going to the hall now, Nigel’s left already. I’m going to try and speak to him. I’ll tell Felicity you’re going to be late. I’ve ordered you breakfast, it’ll be here in a matter of minutes and I’ve put some headache tablets on the table. I think you should have something to eat, take a shower and let someone else worry about the hall for once,’ Jimmy spoke, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her and running his hand through her hair.