13
When they’d clearedup after breakfast, they got ready to go skating, bundling up against the cold in gloves, hats and scarves. They met Jonathan, Rocco and Sam at the ice rink. Rocco was wearing a beanie pulled down low over his brow and a scarf covering his chin, but he was still attracting some surreptitious looks and whispers as they waited to collect their skates.
‘I hope you’ll still respect me after spending the morning watching me falling on my arse,’ Jonathan said to Aoife.
‘You’re not good at skating?’ she asked him.
He shook his head. ‘Never tried. Can’t say I’ve ever been tempted.’
‘He hates snow and ice,’ Sam said cheerfully.
‘I can’t stand that feeling of your legs going from under you,’ Jonathan said.
‘Oh, why didn’t you say?’
‘Well, I’m sitting it out.’ Sive made a rueful grimace. ‘I twisted my ankle.’
‘Oh no!’ Sam said, his face falling.
‘So I’m just here for the hot chocolate. You can join me if you like,’ Sive said to Jonathan.
‘Or you could just cling onto me,’ Aoife said.
‘That’s why I didn’t say.’ Jonathan grinned.
When they’d collected their skates, they sat on one of the wide benches in the changing area to put them on.
‘You can all skate?’ Jonathan asked.
Mimi nodded. ‘We come every year, though Sive’s the best. She’s done a lot more than Aoife and I. She’s taken classes, naturally,’ she added dryly. Sive’s sisters had always lightly teased her about the plethora of classes she was fond of taking to add more special skills to her CV. Aside from the usual things like fencing, dance and martial arts that graced many an actor’s resume, hers also boasted more esoteric talents such as juggling, beatboxing and pottery. She’d done barista training, carpentry and knife skills classes and was proficient in an ever-growing rollcall of dance styles, from ballroom to flamenco to swing. She’d learned to knit and crochet, practised Aikido and gymnastics, could shoot a gun and fillet fish – anything that might come in handy for a part and bump her to the top of a casting director’s list.
‘Mimi’s an excellent skater too,’ she said. ‘What about you, Sam?’
‘I can stay up,’ he said with a grin, ‘but that’s about the best that can be said for me. I can’t do any fancy moves, like triple axels or anything.’
Sive laughed. ‘None of us can do triple axels. But I could show you a waltz jump or a toe loop. If I wasn’t grounded,’ she added. She’d almost forgotten for a moment that she couldn’t join the others on the ice. Pregnancy was frustrating! And this was only the beginning.
‘Why don’t I keep you company?’ Sam said to her. ‘We can drink hot chocolate with marshmallows and get hopped up on sugar while we watch this lot making fools of themselves.’
‘Don’t be silly. Have a skate. It’s fun. And I’m perfectly happy watching. There’ll be plenty of hot chocolate and marshmallows afterwards. I promise I won’t scoff the lot.’
Sam regarded her for a moment in silence as if deciding whether she meant it, then shrugged. ‘Okay,’ he said with an affable smile.
They moved to the rink and Sive stood by the perimeter among the small group of onlookers, who mainly seemed to be parents. The ice gleamed under the bright lights and the scent of hot chocolate and popcorn drifted from the nearby concession stands. She watched as Rocco and Mimi stepped onto the rink, a little ripple of excitement running through the skaters as some of them spotted Rocco. But they acted cool and no one bothered him.
‘Look at this spanner!’ Sam laughed, appearing beside Sive and nodding across the rink, where Jonathan was stepping gingerly onto the ice, clinging to the side with both hands.
‘Poor Jonathan! You shouldn’t mock.’ But Sive couldn’t help laughing as Jonathan inched his way around, hugging the barrier while little kids zipped past him. She watched as Aoife took his hand and coaxed him to let go and allow her to lead him away from the edge.
Mimi and Rocco were both confident skaters and they looked so beautiful together, gliding gracefully across the ice hand-in-hand, spinning and twirling.
‘Well, go on,’ she said to Sam. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’
As Sam made his way onto the rink, she got a hot chocolate and found a seat by the side where she could watch. Sam had underplayed his abilities. He was a decent skater and had the kind of confidence that allowed him to relax and throw himself into it – unlike his brother whose body was still rigid with fear.
She found her gaze drifting to the mums – clinging to small mittened hands as they shepherded wobbly children around theice, while others stood on the sidelines buttoning coats, wiping noses and cleaning hands and faces sticky with chocolate. They seemed so grown-up, so together. It was impossible to believe that next year she’d be one of them when she felt like she still needed a maternal hand to cling to herself. Instead of making her feel more adult, so far pregnancy only made her long for someone to mother her – someone who would button her coat and buy her marshmallows and tell her everything would be all right.
When their session was up, the others joined her, shaking her out of her melancholy thoughts. They pulled up extra chairs and unloaded a tray of hot drinks and chocolate-dipped strawberries and marshmallows onto the table.
