Title: Names
Description: 5 drabbles (long-ish ones) about names.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Torvill and Dean, this is purely fiction, made up my me.
I hope you enjoy!
Oberstdorf – 1978
Much like we had never officially announced that we would skate together, we had had never officially decided on our name. Betty had thought "Torvill and Dean" sounded better than "Dean and Torvill" and it's not until we're on a hot train going across Germany that Chris decides to question this. I'm hot, slightly irritable from the heat and therefore trying to sleep through the journey when suddenly I feel him poking me in my side.
"What" I mumble, half asleep on his shoulder.
"I was just wondering about something" he says loftily.
"Is it important?" I say, refusing to open my eyes.
"Yes" he says decisively.
"Go on then" I say, hoping that he's not going to tell me he's just realised we're on the wrong train, or something equally as bad.
"Why is it Torvill and Dean, and not Dean and Torvill?"
I slowly open my eyes, move myself off his shoulder and say pointedly, "You. Woke me up. To ask a daft question?"
"It's not daft at all" he says defensively. "It's something that's never been discussed."
I settle myself back on his shoulder and reclose my eyes.
"It was never up for discussion – Betty said it sounded better"
"But, I'm the man" he says. "I should be first"
"I disagree"
"You would, you get to be first"
I open my eyes and sigh.
"It's because my name has two syllables in it, yours has one. So it flows better if I go first." "Plus" I add. "Betty said..." he interrupts. "It sounded better"
"Exactly!" I say.
"I never thought about the syllables before" he muses. "Tor-vill" he says, accentuating the syllables. "Dean" he adds.
I close my eyes again.
"Tor-vill, would like Dean to be quiet, so she can go back to sleep"
"Sorry" he says, and gives me a kiss as way of apology.
"See you soon Torvill"
I smile.
"See you soon Dean"
World Championships – 1981
We're both exhilarated, flushed with success at winning gold, but while I just want to celebrate Chris wants' to watch a tape of our performance.
"Come on Jayne" he urges. "Just once, then I'll buy you a wine"
Reluctantly I agree, and follow him through to the recording area. The guy in charge pushes the tape in, and after about ten seconds we see something that makes me burst into laughter, and Chris moan in disbelief.
"Christopher Bean!" I shriek, while Chris just stares at the screen.
"They spelt my name wrong!" he says, still in disbelief.
"Bean!" is all I can say as I collapse into giggles.
"It's not funny" he says. "Everyone I know will laugh at this"
I playfully hit him on the arm.
"Don't be so dramatic, everyone will be pleased we've won, and no-one will..." I trail off, trying to suppress giggles. He gives me a look.
"And I suppose you would find it funny if it happened to you" he says pointedly.
"Yes. Why not?" I say, calming down a bit. He waits a beat, then speaks.
"Fine" he challenges. "Replace the T of Torvill with a B"
I wait a second, thinking, then burst into giggles again.
"Borvill!" I laugh, then go serious.
"I hope you're not indicating that I'm boring"
Now it's his turn to laugh.
"Oh Jayne, you're anything but boring! I was just making a point"
"Borvill and Bean" I muse, "Sounds like a comedy double act"
He puts his arm around me affectionately.
"We are a double act, you and me"
Glasgow – 1990
The night Phil proposes we're in Glasgow, in an Italian restaurant, and by the time we finish dinner it's late, but I know I have to tell one person straight away. Chris. I'm thrilled, buzzing, but at the same time, nervous about his reaction. It had always been just the two of us. Now someone was being added to our team. I knock on his door, jiggling my legs, a sure sign that I'm nervous. After a few seconds he opens the door, clad in a t-shirt and boxers.
"I know it's late but I need to talk to you" It comes out all in a rush.
"What's wrong?" he says, his eyes widening in concern.
"Nothing" I say. "Nothing's wrong. The exact opposite, actually" I laugh nervously.
"Go on then" he says.
"It's just...that...well...at dinner tonight...Phil...um...well he kinda...proposed"
He doesn't say anything, just looks a me blankly. So I continue.
"And...I said yes!"
I produce my hand from behind my back and show him the ring.
He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Congratulations" he says, and reaches down to give me a hug, but I can sense sadness in his movements. When we break apart, we stare at each other in an awkward silence.
"What about your name?" he finally says.
"What about it?" I say, slightly confused.
"Well, are we going to be Christensen and Dean?"
I hadn't thought about that, and told him as much.
"Well, do you think you'll change it?" he continued. "I just think that if you did, people would be confused"
"Well, I suppose Jayne Torvill is my professional name, so professionally I'll keep it at that"
And just be married to Phil in private, I thought.
"It's just that..." he says, looking sad. "It's always been Torvill and Dean"
I reach up and kiss him tenderly on the cheek.
"And it always will be" I whisper.
Dancing On Ice – 2006
I sit in my dressing room, nervously fiddling with my hair, and fixing my make-up. White skates, complete with pink skate guards sit in the corner, seemingly staring at me. I know why, they, or ones like them, haven't been worn in front of an audience for 8 years. I stare back at them, not quite believing what we're about to do. A knock at the door interrupts my train of thought.
"Fifteen minutes Miss Torvill" a voice sounds.
"Okay" I say back.
For once, I am ready way ahead of time. I examine myself in the mirror for the thousandth time. Eight years hadn't changed me that much, had it? I looked older, but I still felt the same. And I still skated the same way that people would remember, so did it matter that I looked a little different to the way that people remembered?
"Thats it" I say to myself. I was nervous, and sitting alone in my dressing room wasn't helping. Time to go to Chris. I pick my skates up and cross the hallway to his dressing room. I knock, and wait for his reply before entering. He's also in the mirror, preening his hair. I walk in, and he turns around.
"Are you okay?" he says, looking squarely at me. "You look a little pale"
"No" I answer honestly. I look at him anxiously. "I'm nervous. Really nervous. I'm beginning to think this was a bad idea"
"Why, what's wrong?" he says, leaving his hair and giving me his full attention.
"It's just that...we're due on in fifteen minutes. In fifteen minutes, they're going to call our names, and we're going to have to skate in front of an audience for the first time in eight years."
Saying it out loud somehow makes the nervous feeling ten times worse, and my breathing quickens, and I feel dizzy, like I'm having a panic attack. Chris is by my side in seconds, guiding me into a chair, his face alarmed. He manoeuvres me so my heads by my knees, and I feel his hand on my back, rubbing circles.
"It's okay" he says. "Just try to calm down, breathe with me okay?"
He breathes slowly, in and out, and I can't do at first, my breath just keeps coming in short little gasps, but he keeps telling me softly that everything will be fine , and rubbing my back until I feel breathing start to slow down and ease, and soon it matches his slow and steady breaths.
"Are you feeling better?" he says, concern written all over his face.
"Yes" I say, as the dizzy feeling passes, and I lift my head up.
"It's just...they're going to call our names and..."
Chris takes hold of my hand, and silences me.
"They'll call our names, and you'll step onto the ice, and it will be like the last 8 years never happened, and it'll just be me and you again"
"Just older" I say, and he suppresses a laugh.
"I suppose so yeah"
We sit together for the next ten minutes, not saying anything, but each of us knowing that we're there for the other one. Suddenly, they call us onto the ice, and we stand backstage, me gripping onto Chris's hand. After about 30 seconds I hear them announce us.
"Reunited on the ice for the first time in 8 years, it's Jayne Torvill, and Christopher Dean!"
After those words, Chris looks at me, and smiles, only for about a split second, but I know what he means by it, and we skate onto the ice, and I realise that Chris was right. It was as if we had never been away.
Dancing On Ice – 2008
"Please welcome...Jayne Torvill...and her skating crew!"
I take a deep breath. Somehow, I thought, this would be a dream, and I'd glance to the side and Chris would be there. But as I step through the mirrors, I see he's not there. Instead it's all the professional skating boys. I enjoy it, for what it's worth, but with every move I make, I can't help but look to the side, looking for Chris. As soon as it's finished I skate straight over to Chris, and I feel his warm arms encircle me.
"You were great" he whispers into my ear.
It's not until later, after the show, and back at the hotel, that we talk.
"So" he says, handing me a glass of wine. "How was it being Jayne Torvill...without Dean?"
I accept the glass, and take a long drink before speaking.
"It was like I had lost of other half of me. I kept thinking it was a dream, and your name would just follow mine, and you'd me there...on the ice"
I'm always honest with Chris, and this was no exception. He finds my hand, and squeezes it.
"I'm sorry you had to be on your own tonight"
"It's not your fault" I say, squeezing it back.
My fingers toy with his.
"But, if you can help it, I'd rather it didn't happen again...I think we're better off as a team, like they say...TnD...like GnT...it goes together.
"Yeah, like fish n chips!" he says laughing.
I laugh too, but it's then that I realise that our names have been, and will continue to be, intertwined with the other. It doesn't matter if we don't skate in public, it doesn't matter if we marry other people, because we became "Torvill and Dean" decades ago, when there was no Olympic gold, no world tour, no Dancing on Ice, no other people. It was just us, two skaters with a big ambition, called Torvill and Dean. Or just simply, "Jayne and Chris."