Page 31 of Head Over Skis

‘Skiing in what?’

‘Don’t worry, just trust me,’ he says, already speeding off before I can decide whether I do.

I try to concentrate as Rory addresses the group and talks about the structure of today’s lesson, which will involve a couple more runs down the training slope before we take the chairlift to the top of the mountain to tackle our first official blue run. As we line up, I notice Penny has sidled up next to me and keeps throwing me this strange, self-satisfied look.

‘Anything you’d like to share with the class, Penny?’ I ask as I set off, and instead of following behind me as instructed, she skis by my side so we can still chat.

‘Oh, nothing dear, I merely noticed that you and Rory were having a nice little chat before class today. He seems like a lovely young man.’

I don’t respond straight away, not sure I’m liking where this is going and also because I’m too busy concentrating on avoiding the kids’ class that is back and getting the better of us again. But my silence only spurs Penny on.

‘And may I add, you seem like a lovely young woman.’

I laugh at that, and even though I’ve taken my complete focus off my skis for a second, I find my body has developed enough muscle memory that I’m able to reply without losing control. ‘Thank you, Penny, but I’m quite sure I don’t know what you’re getting at.’

‘Don’t play that card with me, missy, I was young once. I know that look.’

‘And what “look” would that be?’ I ask, but she’s had the cheek to overtake me, giggling as she weaves down the slope, dodging the kids who have the audacity to ski backwards as if trying to rub their talent in my face.

I finish off the run and find that Penny’s long gone, so I step onto the magic carpet behind Stephen, who acts a little like he’s terrified of snow.

‘How are you holding up?’ I ask, and he turns around slowly, as if unsure who’s talking and whether they’re addressing him.

‘Not in my natural element, if that wasn’t obvious enough.’ He chuckles nervously, and I try to give him a reassuring smile.

‘At least you’ve managed to stay on your feet, so take comfort that you’re doing better than me.’

I think he does as his shoulders loosen, relaxing a bit more. We reach the top of the carpet and swing around to join the rest of the group, who are readying for one last run here.

‘If you don’t mind me asking, how come you wanted to learn to ski?’ I ask, hoping I’m not pushing my luck given that he’s already said more words to me than I’ve heard him say to anyone in the last two days.

But he answers without much reservation, giving me the impression he’s not as shy as we might’ve expected.

‘I’m guessing you wouldn’t believe me if I said I’m the spontaneous sort?’

‘Hmm, probably as much as you’d believe me if I said I was training for the Winter Olympics,’ I respond, happy when he laughs in return.

‘Yeah, I didn’t think I gave off that impression. I’m not the adventurous type, that award goes to my boyfriend, Patrick.’

He points towards the group of kids who are now leaving the training slope and heading towards a red run, all buzzing with excitement.

‘He was one of those. Family ski holidays every winter since he was two, hiking and camping holidays every summer, scuba diving, skydiving, paragliding – you name it, he’s done it. And he’s always said he doesn’t mind that I’m not a natural at that sort of stuff, but…’ He trails off, eyes dancing over the snow all around us with a look of determination.

‘The truth is, I want to propose. I have the ring already, and I bring it with me everywhere so he doesn’t find it. I had this crazy idea that I’d plan a surprise holiday, fly him out to somewhere like this, and surprise him with how well I can ski. We’d go on a late afternoon run when it’s quiet and I’d propose at the bottom. I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid?’

‘No, Stephen, I think that’s wonderful,’ I say, staring at him in awe.

Who’d have thought that was his true reason for being here? Not me, that’s for sure, and I can’t wait to fill Tilly and Meghan in on my discovery.

‘Well, then, let’s see how much we can learn over these next few days. Shall we?’

‘Ladies first,’ he says, gesturing for me to go in front for the next run.

As I ski, I think over what he admitted, trying to think of examples of when Adam did anything so romantic for me. Planned something big or surprised me with something that showed such care or attention.

Like the time when he blew up a hundred balloons with helium so they covered the ceiling of our flat for my birthday, or when he sent flowers to my office on days when I worked late prepping for yet another exam. It’s memories like those that make it hard to decide what to do. Can a few perfect moments outweigh the hurt the worst moments have caused?

Is it possible to experience a love where you don’t have to ask yourself that question?