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“Mum!” Hattie commands. “You’re up!”
Finn pulls away, giving Mel a little half smile, and it is almost apologetic. She finds herself looking down at her skates. Is he thinking about the other girl he has—in Wales, presumably? Or is he just feeling guilty for hugging her for show, after what happened yesterday?
“Oh, I’m not sure I have another round in me,” Susan says, leaning against the side of the ice rink with her broom behind her.
“Nonsense,” Mark declares. He skates over to her, takes one of her hands in his, and pulls her into a twirl, making her laugh and Freya clap. Mel glances up at Finn, sees the softening in his eyes as he watches his mum—and her heart squeezes. Damn it.
“You’re a natural, Mum!” Hattie calls, laughing, as Freya declares that she “wants a go.” Susan is laughing too, cheeks pink. Mark twirls her again—and Mel sees it before it happens. The loss of balance as Susan turns. The way she grabs Mark’s hand, tries to right herself—and the way Mark fumbles his hold.
She hits the ice with alarming force, the sound of her body smacking against it seeming to reverberate around the rink. Freya screams, someone swears, and Mike, for reasons best known to himself, blows his whistle.
Mark is already bending down, checking on her, and Susan is pushing up into a sitting position, grimacing slightly as she touches the back of her head, but otherwise seeming unharmed. Everyone converges as Mark tries to help her to her feet.
“Don’t move her!” Kristen snaps. “What were you thinking, Mark?” It is a harsher tone than Mel would have expected from Kristen—is that a hormones thing? “Stay there, Susan,” Kristen continues. “She might have concussion or something. Mike.” She clicks her fingers—and actually, fair play, she seems to know how to command a room. “You’re first-aid trained.”
“Aye,” Mike says, skating over. “I think let’s get her off the ice, though.”
“You think or you know?” Kristen demands.
“Kristen, love,” Susan says from her sitting position. “I’m all right.”
“Mummy? I need a wee.”
“Daddy will take you,” Kristen says firmly.
“K, I think she’s—”
But Kristen cuts Mark off. “Take Freya to the loo. I’m staying with Susan.”
He hesitates, then nods. He takes one of Freya’s hands, then bends down to squeeze his mum’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mum.”
She pats his hand. “Don’t be silly. It’s my terrible balance to blame. But come on! Let’s not let this spoil things! Someone help me up!”
Dylan and Mike help Susan up and escort her off the ice, Kristen following behind, watching Mike as if she doesn’t trust him. Finn and Mel follow, and, after checking that his mum definitely is okay, Finn heads inside to get everyone a hot drink—curling competition apparently abandoned.
“You need to go to the hospital,” Kristen is saying to Susan as they sit her on a bench next to the rink.
“I do not,” Susan says. “It was just a little fall, love.”
“It was an epic fall,” Hattie corrects. “It will go down in the history of falls. But are you sure you’re okay, Mum?”
“Yes,” Susan says, sounding exasperated now. “And I most certainly do not need to trouble the poor hospital on Christmas Eve.”
“Aye, I think she’s fine,” Mike says. Mel has to admit, he’s not giving off huge confidence that the first-aid training he’s done was any good.
Kristen pushes her hands through her hair, face a little pale—and Mel thinks the stress of hiding her pregnancy must be getting to her. She takes a seat on the next bench along, feeling a little redundant—but not wanting to get in the way, given there are already multiple people fussing. Mark comes back out with Freya before Finn reappears, heading over to his mum.
“We’re taking her home,” Kristen announces.
“No, love, I—”
“Yes,” Kristen says. “No arguments.”
Susan sighs. “Well, at least the rest of you stay, have a nice time, hmm?”
“Do you know what,” Hattie says, “as much fun as this has been, I reckon I’m all curled out. How about we all head back, put on a fire, and eat all the remaining mince pies?”
Susan sighs. “Well, if you’re sure.” She glances over at Mel. “Mel? What about you?”
