16 rink.” So, she made me do ballet, pretending I needed to do ballet first to make my little legs nice and strong. Hmmph. Every Saturday for six long months, we walked to Miss Hannah’s ballet school in a big building overlooking the river. And every Saturday I asked when I was going to start skating. “Soon,” said Mum, which means never. Then we got to ballet school one Saturday and found the windows smashed in and the class cancelled. I have never been so thankful to a pair of naughty vandals. That was the end of Saturday ballet class. For ever and ever. Bye-bye shiny satin ballet shoes; hello Ice Champions rental skates. According to Mum, she prayed when I first got on the ice that I’d hate it, but God was on my side and listened to me instead. I was so excited I jumped right onto the rink, which scared Nick the coach half to death, because he thought I was going to fall flat on my face. “She’s brave!” he said, but I couldn’t stop. I skated round and round in great big circles. I wasn’t skating; I was flying. It was the most amazing feeling in the whole world, soaring like an eagle across the frozen wastelands… and straight into the side of the rink. The trouble was, I really couldn’t stop. I couldn’t find the brake. Five years and three competition seasons later, I still don’t like having to stop, but I haven’t crashed into a barrier since. You only make that mistake once. I think some of my friends who don’t skate must think I’ve got a screw loose, but my life would be empty without skating. I’m at the rink at five every morning to do my warm-up routine in the corridor. We are allowed onto the ice at 5:30, and they don’t kick us off again until 8:30, when the
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