The first step is the worst. Ice, freshly polished, looking for it's first slippery victim. And boy was I going to make sure it wasn't me! I grip onto the sides praying to stay upright, fellow skaters wimper and wobble around me as they do their best new baby lamb impressions. In a bid to not be pulled down by the Bambis amongst us, I let go of the hand rail sooner than desired and seized Will's hand, refusing to let go.
We were at Somerset House, carrying out our annual ice-skate. Every year as a Christmas present, Will takes me ice-skating. I guess it's become somewhat of a tradition that once a year we adopt our best Torvill and Dean personas and tackle the ice, usually bum-first. This was our first time within the historially impressive scenery of Somerset House and I can't help but imagine the past Kings and Queens, Servants and Saints that have graced the ancient Tudor grounds. The Tudor era is the period of History that I find most captivating, much of my interest probably owed to the fact that when I was 8, I dressed up as a Tudor Servant for a school trip to a place called Kentwell where you were transported back to a time of Jesters, Corsets and where men wore codpieces to accentuate their own Crown Jewels! And let's face it, who doesn't love a bit of Henry VIII and his headless lady drama.
Anyway, my yearly ice-skating practice was proving beneficial and despite spending much of my time dodging nifty thirteen-year-olds and precarious old men, my confidence was growing. In fact, after busting some questionable skating pair work with my occasional wobbler of a boyfriend, my confidence soon meant I was happy to let go of Will's hand and zoom around the rink all by myself, imagining I was the latest cast member of Dancing On Ice, (A massive improvement from last year let me tell you!). I don't envy those celebs mind you. Every time I managed to build up the slightest bit of speed, I pictured myself toppling head first into the blades of the person infront of me. And those upside down lifts! I'm a liability in heels let alone ice-skates. Good Luck Lauren Goodger that's all I'm saying.
"5 more times round then we'll go in", I said to Will as he checked his watch. So around we went 5 more times.
"Ok, just 1 more", then another and another.
It was only until my confidence became a cocky attempt to swerve from side to side, hands behind my back battling with my balance so as not to face plant the floor, did I realise it really was time to stop. Maybe in another 10 years of Christmas Ice-Skating will I be able to master that!
