Skating For Grace (The Royal Skater Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Skating For Grace

  Book one

  The Royal Skater Chronicles

  Anne Perreault

  Copyright 2015 by Anne Perreault

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  All scripture verses are taken from the King James Version of the Bible This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, or incidents are product of the author's imagination and are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond any intent of the author.

  Edited by Annemarie E. Omilian Edited by Steve Place

  Cover design: Natasha Perreault Cover image: Natasha Perreault

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015950985

  ISBN-13: 978-1517072216 ISBN-10: 1517072212

  Printed in the United States of America by Create Space, and Amazon company

  Published by Anne Perreault

  For Natasha, the princess in my life. Mt 16:26.

  For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his

  soul?

  Chapter 1

  Lillehammer, Norway, 1994 In through the nose, out through the mouth, and open your eyes! Tie your laces up tight and stand. Smile! NO! Plaster that smile on your lips. That’s right! Now start walking toward the door. Check yourself in the mirror. Yes, you are dressed, good! Keep walking out the door. Smile at the person. Excellent! No! Don’t turn around and run back into the dressing room! Keep moving forward. Smile again and keep it up! Stop! Turn and talk to Fiona. Listen to what she has to say. Are you not listening?!

  Jacqueline shook her head to clear out the annoying little voice and to try to focus on what her coach was telling her. She saw her mouth moving, but the words did not register. Fiona touched her arm, snapping her out of her half-dreamlike state, and led her through a throng of people to a door leading to the ice. Thousands of faces, bathed in darkness, waited for her. Her stomach heaved suddenly, making her feel nauseous. She half turned and wanted to run the other way. Back to safety, back to the dressing room. She wanted to take these clunky skates off her feet. They felt heavy and unnatural. Fiona’s steadying hand stopped her.

  “Jacqueline, look at me! We have been through this before. Think of it as just another competition. Just because we are at the Olympics, doesn't mean that the ice is any different,” she soothed, but when she noticed Jacqueline staring at the rink and the people, her face turning a sickly white, her voice became harsh. “Jacqueline, you have a job to do! And you have no excuse to feel faint. This is what we have been training for. Now go out there and do your best! They will be calling your name shortly!”

  Jacqueline heard her. She heard them call her name. “Our next competitor is Jacqueline Chevalier, representing Lichtenbourgh.” She saw the door to the rink open, heard the roaring applause of the crowd. Fiona squeezed her arm reassuringly. As she took a tentative step onto the ice, her whole being was transformed. Her skates felt like they were part of her body. Her stomach settled down and the audience was no longer threatening. She didn’t have to force a smile this time. It appeared on its own, when she thought of the fun she was going to have in the next four minutes. She stood and patiently waited for the music to start.

  When her song started, it seemed as though her body knew exactly what to do. For the next four minutes she was the only one in the whole arena. The music penetrated her body and without thought she was leaping, spinning, flying over the ice. None of the individual moves she made registered. They were all part of her. Then the music stopped!

  She found herself at center ice again, breathing heavily with a huge smile on her face. She could not recollect whether she had fallen but by the applause and the lack of melted ice and pain on any part of her body, she knew she had delivered a clean performance. She smiled, curtsied and graciously waved to the ecstatic audience as she left the ice. It was over! She had done her best. The rest was up to the judges and her competitors.

  As she went to skate off the ice, she noticed a family in the stands. The children watched her, their eyes open wide and Jacqueline smiled at them and waved. The girl's face split into a huge smile and she turned to her mother in rapt excitement, talking to her and pointing at Jacqueline. Jacqueline smirked to herself. That is my good deed for the day, she thought and glanced at her parents, up in their private box. She skated back to the door, receiving a big hug from Fiona who had tears in her eyes.

  “Fabulous Jacqueline, absolutely wonderful! You were flawless out there!” The two weaved their way through coaches and skaters still waiting to perform. In passing, some smiled generously while others mirrored the same deer-in-the-headlights look she had worn not ten minutes before. Jacqueline took a deep breath and sat down in the ‘kiss and cry’ area, waiting for her results.

  Someone handed her a large bouquet of roses and a little pink teddy bear. Smiling into the cameras, she waved to the millions of people watching from the comfort of their homes. For support Fiona kept her hand on her arm with gentle pressure. As the announcer’s voice rang out, that pressure increased. Jacqueline almost cried out in surprise but her attention was diverted as the announcer began the tally.

  “The results for Jacqueline Chevalier for technical: 5.8, 6.0, 5.8, 5.7, 5.9, 5.9, 6.0, 5.9, 5.6, 5.9.” Pausing for a moment to allow the applause to die down, the announcer continued. “For artistic merits: 5.8, 5.9, 5.9, 6.0, 5.9, 5.9, 6.0, 5.7, 5.6, 5.8.”

  Jacqueline’s heart raced as she pleasantly accepted Fiona’s approving hug.

  “Congratulations,” she whispered into Jacqueline's ears. “You have done it. I am so proud of you, Jacqueline.”

  Jacqueline smiled, waved to the crowd and made her way to the changing room. On her way she was stopped by reporters.

  “What a wonderful performance, Jacqueline. You must be so happy with yourself right now,” a blond female reporter smiled at her, shoving a microphone into her face.

  “Thank you so much. The competition is not over yet and there are some very excellent skaters yet to come. The Russians still have two competitors and one of the American skaters, Linda Jones, is still up,” she smiled back, imagining that her teeth must be blinding in the bright lights. She almost let out a roar of hilarious laughter, which started in the pit of her stomach, but managed to control herself.

  “After your wonderful performance you have set the stage for everyone to follow. It will be difficult for anyone to even come close,” the reporter stated.

  “Thank you but there is always a good chance someone will perform better.”

  “We wish you the best!” the reporter smiled at her, showing her own flashing teeth.

  Avoiding more reporters, she was able to make her way to the changing room. There was an eerie silence. Some of the girls sat on the chairs, tears running down their cheeks. How she felt for them. How many times had she blown it? The thought of all those years of training, pain, self-denial, culminating into a four and a half minute routine made her sober also. They all had worked so hard and now each would return to her own country. Some would be able to attend the Olympics again in another four years. For others, this had been the last and sometimes only chance. She glanced over to her friend, fellow skater Linda Jones. She sat with a determined and concentrated look as she laced up her skates. Jacqueline knew better than to go and talk to her now. Instead, she sank down on the bench and started to unlace her
own skates.

  She nervously glanced at the monitor, showing that the first Russian skater had just taken a tumble after attempting a triple Lutz, almost hitting the side of the rink. She heard the audience groan and cheer her on as she rose back onto her feet to finish her performance. She still received high marks due to the difficulty of her program. But her marks were nothing close to Jacqueline’s. When Linda made her way out the door, she passed Jacqueline who smiled at her encouragingly.

  As she watched Linda glide through her motions on the monitor, Jacqueline marveled at the gracefulness of her friend. She gasped when Linda stumbled after landing the triple toe loop. Linda caught herself and continued as though nothing had happened. By the smile plastered on her face when she skated off the ice, however, Jacqueline knew her friend was crying on the inside. She received very high marks, placing her in silver position. Jacqueline’s gold was almost secure with only one skater, the Russian Tatiana Svetlova, still to come. When Linda walked back into the changing room, Jacqueline acknowledged her with a quick nod. Linda needed time to come to terms with her effort. It was only then, that she would be able to accept that Jacqueline had taken the coveted gold medal.

  Tatiana’s performance, despite her skating well, was just not good enough and Jacqueline slowly realized what was happening. She had indeed conquered the coveted prize! The gold medal! She met Fiona, who hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes. Fiona noticed Tatiana’s coach and turned to shake her hand, leaving Jacqueline free to shake the hands of other coaches, some smiling at her, others trying to hide their disappointment. She found herself in a tight embrace as Linda walked up next to her.

  “Well done, you deserve it!” she whispered into her ear.

  Jacqueline smiled. She felt numb with excitement. She squinted at the bright lights as she walked through the throng of reporters, trying to avoid the multitude of microphones being shoved into her face. She smiled into the cameras, waving to no one in particular. Tatiana, who had just come off the ice, didn’t have a chance to work through in her mind that the gold had been taken by someone else. Once that realization hit slowly, her smile did not reach her icy blue eyes, which glistened dangerously with disappointment and shame.

  Jacqueline watched, in a very detached manner, what was going on around her. On the ice, workers and volunteers were beginning to set up the red carpet and podium. The arena was well lit as she saw the audience standing in the bleachers, chatting excitedly with one another. Some were capturing the excitement on their cameras while others were eating some food bought from the many vendors around the huge arena. Jacqueline realized in that moment that she had been up for a long period of time. She figured it was way past midnight though her body was taut with excitement, her mind was exhausted and things around her were beginning to go in and out of focus. Stifling a yawn, she turned slightly to see Linda, who beamed at her with eyes filled with excitement.

  Chapter 2

  A tall blond official, wearing a navy blue blazer, white shirt and red tie approached them. His name tag identified him as Sven Olsen. He bowed and flashed his perfectly straight set of teeth at them.

  “Congratulations you three,” he said in accented English. “Please to follow me to the changing room. You will wait there until the TV networks okay the ceremony to begin.”

  Jacqueline suppressed a groan. She did not hold the media in the highest regard. Her whole life she had painfully tried to hide from them as much as possible. Here at the Olympics, it had been hard to avoid them. She found out that she could not sneeze without a network picking up that she had come down with a cold. Jacqueline’s parents were also the subject of criticism from the media, since they had decided to keep their daughter away from the Olympic village, and hence the constant hounding of the media. Their intention had been twofold, keeping Jacqueline free from distractions of the media while she practiced at an undisclosed location and keeping a close eye on their still-so-young daughter. The media called them elitists for renting a private house on the outskirts of town, where they had spent the two weeks leading up to her competitions.

  Again they pushed their way back through the throng of reporters and photographers until they reached the relative silence of the lockers. A few of the skaters still sat on the bench, slowly and dejectedly putting on their outdoor clothes. Several makeup artists and hair stylists fussed like bees about the three winners, touching up here and there as they saw fit. Delicate hands tucked strands of her chestnut hair back into her bun.

  When they finally left, the room once again became quiet. The three winners settled on a bench awkwardly, waiting to be called back onto the ice.

  Linda looked at Jacqueline with an excited grin. “What a day!” “You can say that again,” Jacqueline sighed.

  “What a day,” Linda laughed cheekily. “What are you talking

  about? You should be jumping for joy!” Linda said to her, playfully tapping her shoulder. “This is a little overwhelming,” she confessed. “And I am so tired. I think I have been running on pure adrenaline for the last couple of days. Now that it’s over, I’m exhausted.”

  “I suppose you are right. I remember the first Olympics I participated in. Granted I didn’t make it to the podium and I wasn’t a baby like you, sweet sixteen,” Linda teased her friend and shoved her shoulder into her softly. “But I remember being totally overwhelmed. My advice is to just enjoy this moment. You may never have another one like it,” she said to her.

  Jacqueline nodded. “You’re right. But all I want to do is go to bed.” “My advice to you, honey: make the most of tonight. You can sleep for the next four years.”

  A little sniffle interrupted their silence. Jacqueline turned to see the tears streaming down Tatiana’s face, smudging the touch-up job the make-up artists had just completed. Linda and Jacqueline looked at each other.

  “You skated really well, Tatiana,” Jacqueline said softly. Tatiana stiffened at her words. She shot her a cold stare.

  “Is easy to say for you,” she said with a cold voice, making her accent more pronounced. “You are on top. You have gold. I go back to my country in disgrace, no gold.”

  Jacqueline huffed. “Tatiana, you are at the Olympics! What could be better than that? There is no disgrace in not winning the gold!”

  “Jacqueline is right,” Linda added, scooting to the other side of Tatiana, who held herself very stiffly. These two were fierce competitors, who had little love for each other. “We have all sacrificed a lot to be here. We have all skated well. Today Jacqueline happened to be in perfect form. It was her day. There have been other days when you have come out on top.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jacqueline grunted. “I am no better than you. It’s just that something happened out there today, I can’t quite explain it.” She lifted up her arms in a stunned gesture. Linda nodded in agreement. A knowing look flashed over her face. They had all been there at one time or another.

  Thick tears continued to roll down Tatiana’s cheeks, leaving black streaks.

  “You are not disgrace. These are your first Olympics,” her voice was husky with emotion.

  Jacqueline sighed. “This is not the end, Tatiana. There are worlds of opportunities out there for you. You might be back next time.”

  “No, is over for me,” Tatiana replied and then her face hardened. “I hate skating!” She spat these words out, leaving Linda and Jacqueline stunned.

  They couldn’t comment because in that moment Sven Olsen reappeared in the doorway. “They are ready for you,” he said and pointed out to the rink.

  “Give us a moment,” they pleaded, taking Tatiana by the hand and leading her to the bathroom, where they quickly fixed her smudged face.

  They followed Sven out toward the ice, where he held up his hand yet again. He listened to instruction squawking out of his walkietalkie. The audience, now aware that something was about to happen, started clapping and cheering. Jacqueline heard her name being shouted all over the arena and she smiled and waved at no one in part
icular. Flashes from the cameras all around the small group blinded her momentarily. She pasted on the smile she didn't quite feel. “I can’t see my parents. I know they are out there somewhere,” Linda squeaked. Jacqueline scanned the arena for Linda’s parents. She spotted her own mother, looking out through the window of her private box. Once they spotted each other, they both smiled. Her mother said something over her shoulder and the tall figure of her father appeared at her side, smiling brightly and giving a quick wave. Jacqueline nodded back to them and continued scanning the arena.

  “There's my mom!” Linda said exuberantly, waving furiously. She laughed when her mother held up a large sign saying: Go USA, Go Linda! She jumped up and down and almost fell in her excitement. Jacqueline caught her arm.

  “Careful there. They might count that against you.” Both girls looked at each other and laughed. It had been a long night.

  Chapter 3

  “Jacqueline, how do you feel?” she heard someone shout to her.

  How should she feel? Tired, she wanted to yell back but instead she smiled graciously. With a nod from Sven the three approached the podium and waited. The audience cheered as they called each skater up onto the podium. She looked down when she noticed that an official of the IOC approached her with flowers. Jacqueline bent down and accepted yet another beautiful bouquet of roses. Then the head of the IOC approached her with a case holding the gold medal. She automatically shook his hand, bending down to allow him to place the medal around her neck. It was surprisingly heavy and she automatically smoothed her hand over the cold surface. One side showed the Olympic rings and as she flipped it over, it depicted a figure skater

  Jacqueline felt chills run down her spine. As she stood there, waving and grinning, another thought hit her. She had just made history! She had obtained something no one from her country had ever achieved. Wow, she thought as this started to sink in. Again she tried to take it all in, like Linda had suggested, but it was too overwhelming. The crowd applauded like crazy.