Angel (7 page)

‘I feel as though I could ski around the world today,' Shane announced as he approached the breakfast table beating his chest. ‘I had a great sleep.'

Rob looked up, his mouth full of cereal and milk dribbling from the corners of his mouth. ‘Hmmmph!' he nodded with wide eyes. Then he tried to speak but he shouldn't have.

‘Bats wood, we pooh,' he said, showing a mouth gorged with slushy cereal.

Shane instinctively translated his father's words: ‘That's good, me too.'

Jenny was sitting across from Rob and turned away in disgust at the sight of his gaping mouth. ‘Rob, please,' she pleaded, ‘don't talk with your mouth full. It's disgusting. You're always telling Shane not to and then you go and do it yourself. You know how revolting it is.'

Rob raised one apologetic hand and kept shovelling with the other. He was in a real hurry, his confidence was sky high. Despite his initial tumble, the previous day had been a triumph. He was a bit sore but that was to be expected and certainly wasn't going to put him off enjoying another day's skiing. Nothing was going to put him off. He couldn't wait to get back out on the slopes and hear the sound of his skilful skis cutting through the snow.

Jenny's voice was the next to break through the busy sounds of spoons tapping breakfast bowls. ‘The weather report doesn't sound too
good today,' she announced, reading from the information sheets. ‘It says there's a possibility of a storm, maybe even a blizzard.'

Rob swallowed the cereal he had in his mouth. ‘It looks okay to me,' he said, motioning towards the clear blue sky visible through the chalet window.

‘You know how quickly the weather can change up here, Rob,' Jenny continued. ‘It can take you completely by surprise.'

Not even the prospect of a blizzard was going to keep Rob off the slopes. ‘We can still go skiing and if the weather looks as if it's going to worsen, we'll stop.'

Shane was turning his head from one parent to the next as he followed the conversation. He looked at his mother, who was still reading from the information sheets. ‘The report says: “Becoming overcast with the possibility of a late storm.”'

‘Ah! There, see!' Rob chirped, pointing his spoon at Jenny. ‘Not only does it say “late” but it also says the storm is “a possibility”. So even if it comes we'll get a fair bit of skiing in and when we see it approaching, if in fact it does come, then we'll get out of its way.'

Shane thought that sounded reasonable. He wondered if his mother had any further grounds for protest. Her silence indicated she'd run her race. She just kept reading.

Shane was as enthusiastic as his father. He was sore too but he couldn't wait to go skiing again. He felt fit, healthy and strong. He'd had such a good sleep and had been so warm and cosy. He hadn't slept as well for ages.

With the usual hustling and bustling the Hamiltons prepared for another day's skiing. Rob had once again managed to dress himself to a remarkable resemblance of Humpty Dumpty. He was easily the first one ready.
Shane wasn't far behind him but Jenny was lagging.

‘Come on, Jenny,' Rob urged. ‘We want to get out there before it's dark.'

‘Just hold your horses! We've got all day.' Pulling her gloves on Jenny looked at Shane and pointed to her head. ‘Where's your hat? You'll need it.'

Shane hadn't realised it wasn't on his head, he'd been in such a hurry to get dressed.

Rob was getting grumpy. ‘Oh for goodness sake, can we all get a move on!'

Shane found his hat quickly. At last they were ready to hit the slopes.

Rob opened the door, then stopped. ‘Hang on!' he said. ‘I've just got to go to the toilet.'

Jenny and Shane broke into a loud chorus of moans and groans. ‘Oh no!' they cried, pushing Rob playfully. ‘For goodness' sake get a move on, we want to get out there before it gets dark!'

When the Hamiltons finally made it out onto the slopes, an icy wind pushed into their faces. They headed for the gentle slope they'd enjoyed the day before, but after a few runs Rob was seeking a greater challenge.

‘I think I'll try one of the bigger slopes,' he puffed. ‘Why don't you come too. The ride on the chairlift will be fun and you'll probably be able to manage the slope. It won't be much steeper than this one.' He sounded as if he wanted the company.

‘I'll go!' said Shane excitedly. He was dead keen to zip down a steep slope and do some jumping or something. He was feeling very confident about his limited skiing prowess. He couldn't believe how much better he'd become after only a day's skiing. He still had his tumbles of course, but they were usually caused by speed and other skiers getting in his way. It was a great feeling when everything went right
though: the sound of the skis scraping the snow, the wind in his face. Like his father, he had found himself being carried away with the thrill of it all.

‘I'm not sure that that's a very good idea,' said Jenny hesitantly. ‘It was only yesterday that you went for a tumble you know, Rob.'

‘I know, I know,' sang Rob, annoyed at being reminded. ‘But that was yesterday and it was my first go for a long time. I was a bit rusty but now that I've got my old touch back I'm ready for something else. And,' he went on, ‘I think you both are as well. You've mastered the basic skills so quickly the only way to improve is to take up another challenge, to try something different, to push yourself to the limit.'

There was a thoughtful silence. Rob had hit them with a masterful stroke of flattery and manipulation.

‘Oh, I suppose that's what we're here for, isn't
it?' Jenny finally agreed. ‘Let's see what we can do on the bigger slopes then.'

‘Yes!' hissed Shane, hooking his arm under Jenny's.

Rob led them away like a guru leading his followers. ‘I was talking to a bloke last night,' he huffed as he struggled with his skis. ‘He said not to ski down the slope next to the ski lift. He said when we get to the top to go over the first two hills behind the lift and there's a little valley that would be perfect for us. He said it isn't too steep but it's very long and winds gently down to a small river. He said it was quiet too, not too many people to get in our way. It's easy to find, apparently.'

At the top of the ski lift, the view was fantastic. They could see white hills speckled with blotches of dark trees as far as the eye could see. Looking down towards the resort, the slope was a mess of skiers weaving, racing
and tumbling. The bright colours of their hats and suits spattered across the snow like paint flicked on white canvas.

‘We're not going down there,' said Rob, turning his back on the resort. ‘We're heading this way.' He lifted one of his stocks and pointed towards the white hills. The slope immediately below him was steeper and not very crowded at all. ‘Let's do it,' he cried enthusiastically.

Before Jenny or Shane could offer any protest, he was off, pushing himself cautiously from them. The sound of his skis scraping the snow softened as he slid away. He was balanced now and maintaining an easy pace. ‘Yahooooo!' he cried with obvious pleasure.

Jenny couldn't help but smile. ‘He's like a big kid isn't he?' she said, shaking her head.

‘Yeah,' smiled Shane, watching his father zigzag away.

‘Come on,' said Jenny. ‘Let's go before he loses us. But take it easy.'

With that, Shane and Jenny were off. Not with the same reckless confidence as Rob, but nevertheless they kept their balance and moved off slowly, concentrating hard on what they were doing. They bubbled with the occasional giggle as they wobbled on their way.

Rob kept stopping, partly to check on Shane and Jenny and partly to ensure he was in control. A tumble like the one he'd had the day before on the steeper slope would undoubtedly result in more than injured pride. He also liked the feeling of pushing his skis into the snow and twisting his body sideways to bring himself to a stop.

Sometimes, if he got it just right, the snow kicked up from under his skis, just like in the posters at the ski resort, or so he imagined. He had just come to one of those perfect stops
when Shane called to him.

‘Hey, Dad! Watch this!' Shane pushed himself past his mother and with the ungainliness of a newborn foal taking its first steps, he skied towards his father. He wanted to try one of those slides.

‘Slow down!' Jenny called after him.

‘Take it easy,' waved Rob frantically, expecting disaster.

But Shane skied on. His tongue curled from the side of his mouth in complete determined concentration. The icy wind pushed into his face bringing water to his eyes. He felt as though he was going a hundred kilometres an hour. This was real skiing.

Even though he looked awkward and out of control, he wasn't. With his father's Humpty Dumptyish figure looming ever closer Shane began to psych himself up for the grand finale, the sliding stop. He'd watched his father do it
time and time again and now felt ready to give it a go. His plan was to ski towards his father and slide to a perfect stop within centimetres of him.

Rob was waving madly. ‘Do you want me to catch you? Can you stop?' he yelled.

Shane couldn't answer, it was time to push into the sideways slide. Sswwooooooooosshhhhhhhh. Snow flew up and hit Rob in the face as he bent in a fruitless attempt to break Shane's fall. He needn't have bothered. Even though Shane lost his balance and landed on his side, he had negotiated a very reasonable sliding stop. And he knew it. The thrill of success lit up his face.

‘Did you see that, Dad! What a stop! That was even better than yours, I reckon.'

Rob was brushing himself down. ‘You just be careful, Shane. You were going too fast.' He adjusted his hat and tossed the dangling
end of his scarf over his shoulder. ‘But it was a very good sliding stop, mate,' he grinned.

‘What are you grinning at!' Jenny suddenly appeared in a fluster of panic and anger. She turned to Shane. ‘That was a stupid thing to do! You could've killed yourself going that fast!'

‘I was okay, Mum. There wasn't a problem,' said Shane in a cocky voice. ‘I was always in control, honest.'

Jenny wasn't satisfied. ‘Don't you go that fast again,' she fumed, raising her eyebrows and pointing a threatening finger. ‘You either, Rob,' she added, glaring at her husband. ‘He just wants to do what you do.'

‘What did I do?' said Rob, sounding like an innocent victim in a schoolyard dispute.

‘You know very well,' said Jenny, sounding like a teacher.

They pushed off again, staying together, not
really noticing where they were going, just enjoying the skiing. They shuffled up hills, puffing and panting, just to slide down them again squealing and laughing. The tumbles they had were minor ones and Shane was persistent in developing his skill in sliding stops. Sometimes he ended up on his back; sometimes he didn't. Jenny was also determined, reaching speeds Rob had achieved and she was becoming decidedly more daring.

‘You be careful,' growled Shane, teasingly.

‘Huh!' came the reply. ‘I'm always in control Shane, honest.'

They were having so much fun they hadn't taken much notice of the darkening sky or the blanket of mist being dragged over the hills in the distance. The wind picked up and was swirling playfully, devilishly across the snow and around the tops of trees. Shane was the first to
notice the sudden changes.

He was on his back after an awkward fall. He looked up at the darkening sky then across to a clump of trees on the crest of a hill in the near distance. He watched them fade into the creeping mist. He felt suddenly cold. Then down came the snowflakes, like the handfuls of tiny pieces of torn paper he and David used to sprinkle on each other when they wanted it to snow in their rooms.

The falling snow prompted Rob to look up. He was alarmed by what he saw. How could he not have noticed the wind and the approaching mist? ‘We'd better get back,' he called, motioning towards the sky.

Jenny stopped and turned to face a blanket of fast-moving low cloud. The distant hills had disappeared. A thick bank of dark grey mist rolled towards her. It was as if she had been caught in the horrible spell of a powerful, evil magician.
She flicked her head sharply in all directions. ‘Which way, Rob?'

The storm had hit so quickly, so suddenly. It had crept up on them with the cunning of a predator stalking its prey. The Hamiltons hadn't even realised they had been on their own on the slopes for quite some time. Their thoughts had been only on their skiing, their sliding stops, their speed, the fun they were having. Rob looked in all directions. Visibility was down to only twenty metres or so, if that. Everything looked the same. He had no idea which way to go. The snow was getting heavier and the wind began to throw it hard into his squinting face in a devilish game. It howled and whistled in a sudden burst of strength, like a bully seeking confrontation.

‘Which way, Rob?' Jenny screamed, pushing a pleading face at him. ‘Which way do we go?'

Shane shuffled in close to his parents. He
looked up at his father's face and saw panic, confusion, desperation. He knew then there was something terribly wrong. Jenny knew it too. She searched the surroundings for something familiar, something to give them direction. She found nothing. She looked back at Rob who was obviously dumbfounded. Panic welled inside her.

Shane sensed it. He grabbed his mother's arm.

She clutched his back hard and pulled him in close. ‘We've got to move, Rob. We can't stay here,' she cried above the whistling and howling of the wind.

Without any real logic Rob turned his back on the driving snow and, like a machine in a lottery choosing a number, he chose a direction. ‘I'm pretty sure it's this way,' he called, trying to display an air of confidence.

Clumsily, they headed off in single file up a gentle slope. Rob led the way with Shane in the
middle and Jenny shuffling on behind. It was slow going.