Chapter 9
The models and photographer would be meeting her at the venue, and the organiser, Julie, had confirmed that the outfits Jenni had sent in advance had arrived safely.
She knew that she had checked and double-checked everything, and began to relax.
Everything was on track – what could possibly go wrong?
She’d taken a taxi from Tamworth station to the snowdome and introduced herself to the front desk.
Julie, a petite woman in her twenties with bright red hair, had shown her to a storeroom to the side of the snowdome, which was where the outfits had been stored.
There was a hanging rail in the corner and the ladies loo was down the corridor, which the models could use to get changed.
‘We open at nine so you’ve got the place to yourself until then,’ Julie explained.
‘The dome is through the double doors on the right. It’s real snow in there, so it’s cold.
I know that’s obvious, but you’d be surprised how many people turn up in jeans and short-sleeved T-shirts.
Make sure you put hats and gloves on before you go in.
Although, you’ll be fine as you’ve got all the kit. ’
‘Thanks, Julie. Yes, we’re shooting our new ski-wear range today so everything’s thermal and waterproof. We’ll be fine,’ Jenni reassured her as she started unpacking the boxes of clothes and sorting them in to piles for each model.
‘I like that orange bobble hat,’ said Julie, indicating the pile of fleecy items Jenni was stacking in one corner.
Jenni inwardly smiled at the thought of Clive’s reaction if he ever heard the hat – in a bespoke colour called burnt cinnamon, which had been specially sourced at vast expense – described as plain old orange.
‘When we’ve done the shoot you can have it,’ she said. ‘Remind me when we’re leaving. It will look gorgeous with your hair.’
Julie ran a hand through her red curls. ‘Oh yes, everyone would see me coming then, wouldn’t they!’ she laughed. ‘Right, I’d better get back to the front desk. I’ll send the others through when they arrive.’
Half an hour later, Jenni, clad in various mismatched items of sample-sized ski-wear, all too tight, stood in the vast warehouse-sized room that housed the ski slope.
Barriers covered with blue and yellow hoardings lined the sides, a button ski-lift ran up one edge to take the more experienced skiers and snowboarders to the top of the undulating slope, while the more gentle incline starting from halfway up acted as a nursery slope for those still learning or lacking in confidence.
The snow crunched under foot as she walked from the wooden scaffolding benches onto the white slope.
Her two models, Amira and Ingrid, were dressed, and the photographer, Mickey, was happy with the lighting. They were ready to go.
They decided they’d start with base layers, have a break to warm up, and then shoot outer wear, ending with accessories. Satisfied with how everything was looking, Jenni stepped back to let Mickey get on with it.
While he did his thing, she took some snaps on her phone to share with the social media team – everyone loved a behind-the-scenes peek, and they’d use the pictures to start teasing the line before the main campaign dropped.
The next few hours passed in a blur of flashlights as Jenni worked her way back and forth between the models, handing over jackets, removing fleeces, clipping Ingrid into the dreaded rain-poncho – fortunately, she managed to get her out of it again – and making sure all the items were photographed as she worked through her tick sheet.
Seeing Amira’s teeth chattering, she reassured the two girls and Mickey that they were nearly finished. Just the burnt cinnamon accessories and they’d be done.
Dressed in hats, scarfs and gloves, Ingrid and Amira pretended they were having a snowball fight in the foothills of the Alps, while Mickey clicked away.
‘Okay, lovely, and turn to the right slightly. We need playful and carefree. Perfect.’
Mickey took another few shots and then looked at the camera to check the images.
The snowdome, now open to the public, had begun to get busier as the morning had gone on.
It was a weekday so it was still fairly quiet, but four professional-looking snowboarders had taken to the slope and Jenni found herself being covered in a fine spray of ice and snow as they whooshed past her, digging in the edge of their boards to slow themselves down as they reached the bottom of the run.
Afterwards, Jenni realised, somewhat ruefully, that if she’d only kept her focus on the shoot, rather than being distracted by Julie asking if they’d like hot chocolate, she wouldn’t have ended up in A&E.
But as it was, she’d turned to accept the offer with a grateful smile at the exact moment a snowboarder shot past her.
He’d swerved to avoid her as she’d stepped slightly into his path, but not enough, and he had clipped her shoulder as he’d sped past, spinning her around dramatically.
Losing her footing, Jenni had hit the ice, landing awkwardly on her right arm, which she’d thrust out to try to save herself from falling face-down on the snow.
The pile of clothes Jenni had been holding shot into the air, and as she’d landed hard on the ground, the last thing she saw was the burnt cinnamon arm warmers floating down to land gently next to her.
‘Oh my God, Jenni, are you okay?’ Mickey had shouted, as Julie rushed over and tried to help her back on to her feet, but Jenni, yelping in pain, had quickly realised that her leg wouldn’t move.
‘Don’t worry, love, stay still. We need to get you to hospital.’
Jenni had been happy to comply. She could feel the ice melting and seeping through the layers of clothing, reaching her skin, and she had begun to shake with cold.
Julie had called an ambulance and, an hour later, still shouting instructions to her team, Jenni had found herself being stretchered out of the snowdome.
This was very much not how she’d envisioned the day would end.