Five Ladies Go Skiing: A feel-good novel of friendship and love

‘Me too,’ Rachel added, gently squeezing her mother’s hand.

Fighting yet another lump in her throat, Ginny smiled as she glanced at each of her children. An image of Mike amused her. It was one from years ago when he was teasing Ross’s friends that the Friends comedy characters were named after his kids. As much as she wondered and tortured herself about what Mike may or may not have done, he was still their children’s dad and they had loved him unconditionally and were both coping so well with his loss. The urge to jump up and kiss them both became overwhelming.

‘My cherubs, of course, I won’t mind. That would be lovely, thank you. Both of you. It’s a major step for all of us and if it helps you too, then even better. I remember when my dad died, it took me ages to come to terms with it. Just hearing Louis Armstrong sing “Wonderful World” on the radio would start me off. For some reason I coped with Grandma’s passing better. I’ve read though, that the first anniversary of a beloved’s death can be a turning point, so let’s hope so. We’ll never forget Dad, but we all have to move on.’ She blinked at her own words. ‘I’ve been thinking about having some sort of memorial that day, to help.’

Rachel looked aghast. ‘Not on your own.’

‘No. With the girls.’ Ginny clenched her teeth. ‘All of us, I’m sure they won’t mind. We may need a rest from the skiing by then anyway. That’s if I even get on the slopes.’ Ginny gave a snort, realising the impression her negativity would give. Her usual self-doubts crept in. ‘Oh, please don’t let on to the girls, but I’m petrified.’

‘Oh, Mum, I thought you were.’ Rachel gazed at her mother with concern. ‘You know, there’s still time to change your mind, although I think it’s a perfect distraction, a great idea to challenge yourself as well as have fun with your friends.’

Ginny slid her knife beneath a slice of succulent white turkey and laid it gently onto her plate. ‘No. No, I wouldn’t – couldn’t – let my friends down. They’ve organised this all on my behalf. I’m really touched that they care so much. So, no. I’m determined to throw myself into it. And, I’m exaggerating. It will be a new challenge, and I’m sure the girls will expect me to organise something to remember Dad. Angie even suggested it at one point. I don’t want the trip to be miserable though. Just a toast at a meal or something. I’m not really sure if there will be anywhere suitable, but once we’re there, hopefully I’ll find a place I think is right and I’ll ask the girls. I’m sure they won’t mind. Like you, they’ll think it fitting that we remember him.’

Ginny flinched as one of the red candles in the centre of the table flickered. She would never get used to losing Mike despite her need to question him. She missed him terribly. And it was incomprehensible that he was taken at just sixty-one. Was it punishment for his misdemeanour? Not that she could ever know anything now. His words would echo, possibly haunt forever, but no explanation would ever be spoken. All she knew was that she needed closure and the determination to stop tormenting herself and wallowing in self-pity.

‘Your hair looks really good by the way. I like the new shorter fringe,’ Rachel said, brushing her fingers through a spring of Ginny’s bouncy highlighted hair. ‘You’re looking amazingly fit too. You must have worked really hard preparing. You remind me of that … oh, what’s her name, the Sex and the City woman, er … Kim Cattrall. That’s the one. Don’t be surprised if you pull on the slopes.’

‘Don’t be daft. I’m almost sixty not sixteen.’ Ginny laughed, but was thankful to be side-tracked from the incessant niggling that festered in her mind. ‘But, I’m flattered. Thank you. It’s been hard work and I pray that I’ve done enough to get me through the week. I’m apprehensive about skiing, yes, but I’m really looking forward to having some fun with the girls. The timing’s perfect and I’m certainly glad to be away from that office. I was tempted to walk out on Thursday.’

Ginny shook her head and scrunched her nose. ‘It’s not a nice place to work, but I thought of today, with all of you, and the week away with my all my friends. The break will be the tonic I need. Maybe I’ll look at the job differently when I get back.’

Kim

Sheltering from the late afternoon sun under a canvas canopy Kim Anderson drained the last of the tepid tea from her mug, knowing she should get on with her packing. It was naughty to be lazy, naughty and nice and something she rarely did. And why not? The Perth heat was intense and there was nothing more refreshing after a day on her feet at the hospital than a cool dip in the pool and then that priceless slot of the day slumbering for an hour in the shade, gorging on colours and the heady scents of the rose garden before Will, her husband, returned from work.

In fact, today she would savour it that little bit more just because she could. Will would be another two hours. She had suspended Lena, her personal trainer, for two weeks over Christmas and whilst she was away skiing. The break, she envisaged, would give her time to decide if she should actually continue. Although the sessions had produced a body she had always yearned for, it had been gruelling these last few months, so she deserved a treat.

The pile of ironing in the laundry room could lounge for another half hour despite the fact she couldn’t wait to seal up her travel bags and be on her way to Europe. So far from Australia, and so much cooler this time of year, but she took comfort and warmth knowing that she would very soon be with Mai, one of her twin daughters, for Christmas Day. Mai was staying with Kim’s friend and former colleague, Tandy, in her home by Lake Geneva. After that Kim would meet up with her besties – Ginny, Cathy, Lou and Angie – for a whole week together. And skiing.

The skiing was irrelevant. An excuse. It was time with her old buddies that her heart yearned for. Since the twins left, a wound had opened up inside her. Kim indulged herself among the roses. Her home served as a place for sleeping, eating, storing belongings and washing clothes. Although beautiful, with every consumable imaginable, its heart had been ripped out when Avril and Mai flew off to study in Europe four years ago. It only came alive every Christmas.

After her friend Ginny lost her husband Mike, Ginny had come to stay a month and they spent hours chatting and consuming buckets of wine in the rose garden – Kim’s refuge.

Waking from her reverie, Kim entered the building she called home and, as usual, checked the security cameras before climbing the stairs to shower. The gates were secured and there was nothing signalling alarm. After showering, she towelled herself dry and applied a heavy dose of Nivea to soak into her skin, then slipped on a summer shirt and headed back down to the laundry room. Sticking out her tongue at the pile in the basket, she pulled out the ironing board from its cupboard, followed by the iron. Turning the dial to cool, she briefly ran the iron over the new ski-wear she had collected over the last few months. She had washed fleeces, T-shirts, thermals and jeans. Then she realised what a waste of time it all was – they didn’t need ironing. As she looked up at the clock, she heard the rattle of Will’s keys.

‘Have a good day, love?’ she asked noticing beads of sweat bubbling on his skin as he slapped his laptop case onto the worktop close to her. He’d only walked from the car.

‘Nah, not the best.’

‘I don’t know why you didn’t book a flight and come with me to Switzerland. Or London at least – spend Christmas with Avril.’

Will rolled his eyes. ‘She won’t want me there; she’s all loved up. Anyway, odds on they’ll be spending Crimbo with his folks.’

‘You think? She hasn’t said.’ Kim creased her eyebrows, anticipating more information.

Will shrugged, smoothing his greying hair with his fingers. ‘Well, I’m flat out over the holidays so it ain’t gonna happen. Besides, you’ll be with your friends and I know that means a lot to you.’ He kissed the back of her neck as if knowing it should soothe any tension about the subject. She had given up trying to persuade him to retire and move back to England. It only upset him and caused rows. He wasn’t ready to give up his specialised work with the oncology team in Perth, and understandably so; they were making great headway treating, even curing women with breast cancer. Plans were now in place to set up a one-stop care centre over the next two years. She knew he couldn’t bear to abandon the team.

Kim placed the iron down on its safety grid, turning to Will. As she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, his arms slid around her waist whilst he leaned down to kiss a short tuft of her hair.

His lips brushed hers. ‘I must be crazy to let such a beautiful woman out of my sight for twelve days.’ He took a step back and eyed her naked body beneath the thin linen shirt. ‘Look at you. Girls in their twenties are less lean and toned. God, I wanna eat you!’ He pulled her close again and Kim instantly felt his arousal.

‘I have things to do and you need a shower,’ she said, freeing herself from his embrace.

‘All the trouble you go to so that you can ski and see your friends and you can’t spare me half an hour of your time.’

Kim sighed, blinking hard, then peering up at him, she said, ‘Go, shower and I’ll be up in five. God, why don’t men have a menopause and lose their drive? You owe me.’

Will smiled and gave her a squeeze. ‘Aw, come on, I don’t make that many demands.’

Kim tightened her lips, staring at his hand. ‘I know, but …’ She paused. ‘Never mind, no you don’t,’ she said softly, when what she really wanted to say was: Be warned. I’m going to be notching up enough credit so that you honour my desires, my yearning to move back to England. But it would have no effect. Will had made his view very clear, so it would only create an argument.

‘Besides, you’re not going to see me for nearly two weeks.’ He headed for the hall stairs. ‘I’ll be washed and waiting.’

Switching off the iron, Kim rubbed her forehead. She would never stop loving her husband, but she found herself immensely irritated with his reluctance to discuss their future. The last time she approached him about it, they rowed and didn’t speak for days, and since then she’d lost the courage to broach the subject, allowing the issue to fester inside her for fear of upsetting him.

At times her life was an island, floating in a vast and desolate sea. Yes, Will was her dream husband, but he could be stubborn as a mule. Not that she would have noticed it as a young nurse. She was blinded to his faults and blown away when the handsome Dr Will Anderson flirted with her. She’d almost exploded when he had asked her to be his plus-one at the Hospital Christmas Dinner. And, as a partner, he had always been so loving and strong, even through the dark days of their fertility problems. It was that love that kept them strong throughout the long IVF treatments and the longing for a family.

Naturally, there was tension – lots of it at times – but letters to and from her friends had kept her spirits up so she and Will had got through it. And, eventually, the twins had made them complete. Now that the twins had flown the nest and Will was more and more absorbed in his work, she found herself pining. Her only deep friendship since moving to Oz in her mid-twenties was a previous neighbour, Marnie, who nowadays was blessed enough to spend much of her time with her seven grandchildren.

Kim climbed the stairs, aware that Will had probably had his shower. She didn’t find intimacy so easy since the menopause had scared off her libido, but Will was very understanding. He did make an effort to get her in the mood first with his caresses. And the acupuncture she’d had helped. If only he comprehended her other needs as readily. Something to distract her from pining. She lifted her chin as she entered the bedroom, seeing Will towelling his lean body after his shower. Again, she would try her best to push her thoughts to the back of her mind.

Cathy

As efficient as always, Cathy Golding had completed her list of morning chores as well as the last of her packing and sat in her book-bulging study to switch on her laptop. She checked her watch: 8.29. She picked up a brazil nut from a small dish and nibbled on it, well on her way to consuming one half of her daily dose of protein and selenium. Outside the window, the grey winter sky and depleted front garden motivated her to get writing to reach the end of her story. She opened the document entitled ‘Sally’s New Bike’, the summer story she was submitting to a woman’s magazine. After enduring more than thirty years teaching English Literature and Language to girls at the local secondary school, albeit with much commendation and personal satisfaction, Cathy was finally living her dream.

She craned her neck to check she had closed the door. There was only Anthony, her husband, in the house, but he managed to disrupt her more in a morning than a class of thirty twelve-year-olds ever had in a whole day. As it was Christmas Eve, she needed to finish the story ready for posting before her ski trip to Switzerland on Boxing Day with her closest friends.

Reading the last two paragraphs, Cathy then read the notes underneath and began typing. Each day, before closing a document, she had formed the habit of adding a few brief sentences so that she could instantly pick up the thread next time. And, she found it was always good to note her ideas down, even if a better idea came along later – which they often did. She tapped swiftly on her keyboard, only pausing here and there for thought, but no sooner was she in the zone than she heard the familiar drum of Anthony’s slippers on the floorboards outside, then the clack of the handle on the study door. Anthony was never subtle.

His voice boomed, jolting her from the zone. ‘Would you like tea?’

Cathy took a deep breath and turned her head. ‘Yes, but please, darling, I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you. Just bring it, and quietly. If I don’t want it, I’ll leave it.’

‘Yes, sorry again.’ Anthony clenched his jaw. ‘How’s it going?’

‘It was going fine. I want to finish, edit and post by lunchtime. I’m cooking the gammon and sausage rolls this afternoon and your last two meals for freezing so I want to get this off.’

Anthony rubbed his thighs sheepishly. ‘Right. Anything I can do?’

‘All done, I believe.’

‘Need any last-minute bits for your trip?’

‘No, darling, but thank you for asking.’

‘I might meet Terry and the guys in the pub later. What do you think?’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘It will be good for you to see the boys,’ she said patiently as he padded out the door. ‘And, just tea, love, please.’ She returned to her keyboard gripping her knuckles, wondering why she felt she had to treat her husband like a child these days. He knew she craved peace and quiet to write. In fact, meeting friends for a Christmas drink would do him good. His friends hadn’t yet retired like Anthony had, but it would help him when they did. The last year or so he was like a lost puppy, moping around and interrupting her, trying to please her. Not the wildly energetic man she married at all. Where was her confident Anthony?