Edge of the Blade (Bryant Rockwell Book 4)

by Jacky Gray

  Waiting for her turn on the ice, Jude’s insides turned to water. As the crowd applauded, Jude figured only two more to go before her turn.

  The scores came through for Louise: a total of just over the hundred – her first. Speculation buzzed around the waiting contestants; it put her in fourth place, with a possibility of third. The TV screen showed a close up of Louise from the bench in the “kiss and cry” results area; she looked delighted, and her trainer was obviously impressed.

  As Louise ran to the barrier where her mum waved wildly, Jude felt sad it would all be over for her, but she totally got the parental pressure bit. Watching Louise’s dad give her a big hug, Jude tried not to think about what Luke had said last night about how her mum and dad would feel about not being there to cheer her on.

  Jude’s musings meant she almost missed the call to the telephone; for some reason the staff kept calling her Judy.

  Kat’s voice came over the house phone at what seemed like a hundred decibels. “Jude, we’re just getting tickets. Liv, Liam and Ray are here. How long ’til you’re on?”

  “Ten to fifteen minutes. How did you get here?”

  “Liam drove. Good luck, or should I say break a leg?”

  “No, that’s only theatre. Kat, are my folks coming?”

  “Not sure. We skipped off early, told our folks we were out with Liam for the day, which is true. We’re going in now; see you soon.”

  At the announcement for Amanda Garret to take to the ice, Jude gave her the thumbs up sign. Mandy was the youngest competitor at twelve: Everybody loved the cute little poppet. She’d attached herself to Jude and Louise at lunch, nerves making her rattle on about her pony and skiing holidays and kickboxing championships. A doted-on only child, she had bags of sporting ability, but was much too nice, and completely lacking the focus and killer instinct. Unlike Tamara, lying joint third, and Chelsea, joint first with Jude after the short program.

  Mandy started well, but her lack of experience quickly showed, particularly in her performance and interpretation. The girls welcomed Louise back as the youngster stumbled.

  Tamara winced. “Bless, she hasn’t quite got it. She’s slightly in front of the music.”

  “I know. And at the start she was slightly behind.” Jude shook her head. “Such a shame.”

  Chelsea scowled. “A performing animal jumping through hoops.”

  Everyone winced, but Louise gave her a saccharine-sweet smile. “Of course, you’d know all about that: It takes one to know one.” Chelsea stalked off to mutters of “Good riddance.”

  A runner called Tamara to the ringside, and she got hugs all round before leaving with a cheeky shake of her tassels.

  Louise turned back to Jude. “Chelsea doesn’t have to be such a bitch about everything. Mandy’s just young and inexperienced.”

  Jude nodded. “I know. It’s like she executes all the moves perfectly, but there’s something missing.”

  “It’ll come. The talent’s there, she just needs practice.”

  Jude wasn’t so sure. She could tell the younger girl didn’t have music running through her veins, telling her limbs exactly what to do. But she didn’t voice her thoughts, because she couldn’t bear to be thought of as mean like Chelsea. The girl had been quite friendly at the start, but after the preliminary round she refused to meet Jude’s eye, glancing away if their gaze coincided. No shortage of the killer instinct there.

  Mandy reached the end of her performance, missing a couple of opportunities where an experienced skater would have gone for a big move.

  Jude scanned the room: Tamara would be straight on; they only cleared the ice after the first group. She caught Chelsea’s argument with her coach over whether to do a triple on the final jump.

  “It’s too risky; you’ve only managed the triple once.”

  “Once is enough.” She tapped her head. “It’s in here, now.”

  “You don’t need to decide now. You’re last on, so you’ll have the advantage of knowing everyone else’s technical scores.”

  “No problem then. I probably won’t need a triple.” She looked over at Jude with a look of triumph tinged with an evil glee.

  A nanosecond later, the TV monitor displayed Mandy’s scores. She’d lost some precious grade of execution marks because of her stumble and she’d gone for safety, doing all her highest scoring elements in the first half. A close-up of Mandy’s face said she knew she’d lost the fourth place. Sure enough her total was under the hundred, putting her third. This would mean fifth overall, unless one of the last three made serious errors.

  Waiting at the side of the rink, Tamara’s face was white as a sheet. When they called her name, she waved at Jude, who once more gave the thumbs up.

  Tamara’s opening was inventive and original; the Shania Twain track explained the tassels on her outfit. She segued into a cheeky little line-dancing step sequence which got the crowd going. Her first combination included a perfect double loop jump followed by a layback-spin which could have fit on a two-pence coin. A change of direction led to into an elegant flying camel spin, which morphed into the tricky illusion spin. She was looking very good so far, although Jude thought the strategic back-loading meant she’d packed too much into the second half, leaving the natural pace of the music behind in places.

  Then the unthinkable happened: Passing by the Coca-Cola advertising sign, Tamara stumbled. She managed to stay on her feet, but her confidence was shaken as she tried to get back into the routine, and it took half a circuit before she tried any moves. It was obviously not the same calibre of performance as the first two thirds of her routine; she’d lost the sparkle and sass, and the transitions on the spin combination weren’t as seamless as they could have been. The crowd were behind her, trying to buck her up by clapping along with the music and, as she built up her confidence, it happened again.

  Once more, Jude saw the Coca-Cola sign flash past as Tamara came down from a double Axel jump, landing badly when her foot appeared to stick. The momentum threw her body over, thumping down on the ice and rolling over a few times before coming to a stop. She tried to get up and end the routine but, as she stood, her feet went from under her and she landed back on her hands. By the time she got to her feet, the music had ended. The audience were firmly on her side; every person in the auditorium was standing, clapping wildly.

  While they waited for the scores, Jude watched the playback of the two incidents; she’d already spotted they both happened in the same part of the rink, and she studied the screen intently. Just before the first stumble, she saw a movement in the crowd. On the second tumble, it definitely looked as though she’d tripped over something. Putting two and two together, it looked like something had been thrown on the ice.

  Ignoring the fact she had only a minute or two, Jude went in search of the security chief. Finding the man proved no problem, but persuading him to look into the possibility of foul play was a different matter.

  “I’ll check the two security cameras aimed at that spot, but I can’t see someone throwing anything on the ice. It would show up.”

  “Not if it was white or transparent, like glass.”

  “Which would break when it hit the ice.”

  “Clear plastic, then. Please, if you could just look in the audience above the Coca-Cola sign, I’m sure you’ll see an arm raised or something.”

  “I’ll get someone on it, but you need to run along now, Miss. You’re on soon.”

  She got back in time to see Tamara’s free skate score: a little below Louise’s, putting her just above on aggregate. One look at Tamara’s face told her the fall was due to and unforced incident.

  But Jude had no time to investigate as she was called, and she stood on the edge of the ice with her head all over the place. So much had gone on in the last twenty-four hours she struggled to focus. The one thought which dominated everything else was the way Luke had stood by her; he was such a hero. She wanted his comforting arms around her now, but instead, she clung onto h
is romantic words like a hug. “Te amo, Luke.”

  As her name was announced, a huge cheer went up from seats to the left. She looked over, spotting a banner: “Go Jude, go!!” She smiled – the girls must have been up all night making it – and waved in their direction. Knowing she had so many good friends gave her an extra boost. She skated to the centre of the ice and took her starting pose.

  The crucial first note from the Mexican trumpet triggered her explosion into the dramatic opening sequence. Michael Bublé’s voice introduced “Sway,” a song from the great American songbook made for dancing. It gave so much scope for expression, and the pacy Latin American rhythm had lots of opportunities to pack in some fancy combinations and cheeky, crowd-pleasing choreography. The complex timing meant it wasn’t a clap-along song, but Jude could feel the audience were with her, willing her to succeed; it was the greatest feeling in the world.

  About halfway through the routine, she felt an obstacle on the ice, and a quick look at the side revealed the first “a” in the Coca-Cola sign. Luckily, this wasn’t a crucial element of the piece and, because she subconsciously expected it, she managed to swap onto the other foot with only a slight wobble. For the remaining three circuits, she avoided the dodgy stretch of ice by changing from an oval into a figure eight, and completed the routine without further incident. It altered the timing slightly and meant she faced the wrong direction for two of the big elements, but she was quite practised in winging it and improvised reasonably well.

  Hopefully, the only one who would notice the difference would be Bernie, and he wasn’t there. The crowd once more got to its feet, cheering wildly and several flowers were thrown onto the ice. After curtseying in all directions, she did a circuit picking them up. She dropped a rose by the distinctive sign then, as she bent to pick it up, let the rest of them fall. Several attendants rushed to help, but she had time to run her fingers over the ice and pick up a couple of the objects which had caused her to stumble and Tamara to fall.

  Not wishing to give anything away, she carried on round, smiling and waving at the crowd. When she exited the ice, she heard a commotion near the corridor behind the family stand. Luke was being restrained by two burly security guards.

  27 Dirty Deeds

  “It makes no sense. Why would I jeopardise my girlfriend’s chances?” Luke raised his arms in surrender.

  “Sir, please lower your voice and come with us.”

  “What’s going on?” Jude grabbed the arm of the nearest guard. “Let him go.”

  The guy reacted instinctively to push her off, and the other one caught her arm. “I’m sorry, miss, you need to step away and return to the results area. We have to take this suspect for questioning. There may have been an attempted sabotage.”

  “I know, you dummy. I’m the one who spotted it.” She regretted the angry words as they hauled Luke into the corridor.

  The security chief approached. “What’s this?”

  She tried to rein it in. “They’ve got the wrong guy. Luke’s my boyfriend.”

  “We caught this man running out of the stands, trying to escape.”

  The chief took charge, sending the two guards off. He took the offending objects and examined one. The clear plastic tube, a little bigger than a drinking straw, had hexagonal ends which made it stick better on the ice and cause a greater obstacle. He agreed Luke could accompany her to the kiss and cry bench in the absence of a coach or parents.

  Luke explained how he’d seen something out of the corner of his eye just before Tamara stumbled. The lad in the front row looked vaguely familiar, and decidedly shifty. Luke told how he’d watched him and, sure enough, shortly into Jude’s performance, the guy raised his arm and something flicked out onto the ice.

  Hysterical screams announced the arrival of the Jude’s scores, the total well over a hundred. Chelsea would have to do something really special to beat that. Jude turned to Luke and the look of sheer pride was worth all the hassle which had brought them to this point. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss him and the delighted cheers and whistles from the audience made her feel like she’d already won.

  A discreet cough from the guard had them jumping apart guiltily. He pointed to where Chelsea casually circled the ice; she had yet to be called, but in all the excitement over Jude’s amazing scores, no one had noticed her slipping out. She bent down, to all intents and purposes adjusting the fit of her boots, but they clearly saw her running her hands over the ice as though looking for something.

  Chelsea glanced into the crowd above the Coca-Cola sign and the guy Luke had identified shrugged. Luke whispered he finally remembered why he looked familiar; the guy was cosying up to Chelsea by the loos at the end of the lunch break. Then her name came over the PA, and she glided across the ice to her starting position.

  She’d gone for an obvious, foot-tapping Leanne Rimes favourite. The crowd dutifully clapped away as she produced a dazzling display of jumps, spins and clever combinations.

  Jude returned to the competitor’s benches with Luke, and she quickly spotted how Chelsea avoided the patch of ice in front of the Coke sign. It was cleverly done, not just figure eights. By varying the direction when she came out of spins, she managed to give the impression of covering every inch of the ice.

  Although technically every bit as good as Tamara, and with a slight edge over Jude, Chelsea’s performance was too clean and automated – the jumping through hoops she’d accused Mandy of. It lacked Tamara’s cheeky flair or Jude’s soulful musicality. Just before Chelsea’s final half minute, a runner tapped Jude’s shoulder and asked her to follow him.

  Luke went with her, and they hurried toward the lobby, listening to a loud commotion. She froze at the familiar, angry voice – her dad. He demanded to know why he wasn’t allowed into the competitor’s area and what right they thought they had to stop him from speaking to his daughter. She swapped a glance with Luke.

  He hugged her, with a whisper. “You might as well face the music now; it’s not like he can change anything.”

  “True.” His support gave her courage.

  He took her hand, and they turned the corner to hear the competition manager explaining the rules. As long as a registered coach submitted her name, no parental permission was required.

  “Jude. You come with me right now. We’re going straight home.”

  “Don’t you think it would be reasonable to see if she’s won first, Mr Briskell?” Luke’s bold comment made Jude’s dad wheel around, bereft of speech.

  The official misread his silence, and used a coaxing tone. “Jude is currently in the lead and you will only have to wait a few moments until the results for the last girl come in.”

  “You!” The word exploded in Luke’s face and her father’s rage made his words tumble out incoherently. “I might have known this was all your doing, leading my daughter astray with your gang of thugs.”

  “Dad, that’s not fair. Luke had nothing to do with it.”

  He took a deep breath before continuing in a cold, lower register which was much scarier. “Look, I’m not going to listen to your excuses. I’ve just driven over a hundred miles in appalling weather and I don’t need any more aggravation.”

  Luke was still determined to fight her corner and Jude was full of admiration for his courage and maturity as he stood his ground and tried to appeal. “Jude’s not trying to give you aggravation, she just wanted to skate. And with all due respect, if you’re tired it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of a rest before driving another forty-five miles.”

  “How dare you take that tone with me?” He drew himself up so his nose was an inch above Luke’s.

  “What tone?” Jude’s mother appeared with Megan, injecting some calm. “He sounded extremely polite under the circumstances.”

  “But …”

  “But what?” Her look pleaded for him to show some compassion. “Luke’s right; at least come and see if she came first or second.”

  Anything her dad might hav
e said was lost as Jude squealed and hugged her mother. Tears ran down her cheeks as she babbled. “I’m so sorry, Mum. I wanted to text last night but I thought you’d worry more.”

  “Why Jude, that’s quite thoughtful, for you. And probably right.”

  “It wasn’t my idea, it was Luke …”

  Megan decided she’d been ignored long enough and smothered Jude in a sisterly hug which threatened to topple them both over until her mum rescued her, pulling Megan away.

  “By the way, dear; you skated magnificently. It went a bit strange at the end, but otherwise, absolutely wonderful.”

  “You noticed that? The judges are bound to have done then.”

  “I didn’t actually notice myself, it was something Bernie said.”

  “Bernie’s here?” Jude scanned around as though expecting him to appear any second.

  “I’m sure you would be interested to know Chelsea’s scores are about to be displayed.” The deputy waved them to the competitor’s benches where the other girls broke out in a round of applause. Tamara, Mandy and Louise surrounded her, all nattering at once.

  “Go Jude.” Mandy squeezed her around the waist.

  “You were so much better.” Louise held up her hand for a high five.

  Jude matched it. “Let’s see what the judges say.”

  “She didn’t do a triple, and her interpretation and composition weren’t a patch on yours.” Tamara hugged Jude.

  Luke had picked up the scoring lingo. “I’m sure her PCS scores will be much less than yours. I think you’ve done it, Jude.”

  “I wouldn’t go counting your chickens before they’ve hatched; she played to the crowd and they loved it.”

  Jude squealed as the voice came from behind her. She hugged her coach. “Bernie. You came.”

  “I never believed you wouldn’t make it, but I had a devil of a job finding someone who knew where you were, ’cos everyone was here. I soon figured it out and only made it by the skin of my teeth. It was too late to make the competitor’s benches, so I had to watch it from the back, but it looked good. Shame about the changes at the end; probably cost you a couple of execution points, but you winged it like a pro. I was proud of you.”