by Holly Bourne
I looked down at the snow-covered path beneath my feet, disappointed.
Noah stroked my face.
“You do realize it’s going to be unbelievably bad not being able to see so much of you,” he said. “I’m not sure how I’m going to cope. Does that make me sound like a soppy idiot? I bet you’re looking forward to having a little break from me…”
I smiled to wind him up. “Yeah, I could do with a bit of a break from you actually.”
“Hey!”
I laughed and gave him a full kiss on the lips.
“Of COURSE I’m going to miss you, you massive doofus,” I said, flinging my arms around him. “Loads and loads.”
Noah hugged me back. “Good.”
And then we kissed once more, not caring that Mum could be lurking behind the curtains.
Mum and Dad met me in the hallway.
“You made it back – brilliant,” Mum said, a plate in one hand and a tea towel clutched in the other. Trust her to do chores on a snow day off work. “How was the snow in London?”
I gave her and Dad a quick kiss. “All melted, but it’s like Narnia here still. I’m so not suitably dressed.”
They looked at my ballet attire.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen that dress before.” Dad was slightly feminine in the way he noticed all my and my sister’s wardrobe additions.
I blushed and did a semi-twirl. “Noah got it for me.”
“He bought you a dress? A teenage boy bought you a dress?” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “My my my…”
“And he took her to a ballet, and they stayed in a five-star hotel last night,” Mum reminded him.
“Hmm, is he rich, this boyfriend of yours?”
“Yeah, I think so. Well, I know so. Yes.”
“He must be,” Mum put in.
“But you like him? He treats you well? Not just well in terms of buying you things and taking you to fancy places, but he makes you feel good about yourself?”
Where was this third degree coming from? Was Dad actually being overprotective?
“Yes. He treats me very well. You can meet him if you want to.”
“Well, that would be nice.”
“Can I go upstairs and change now? I’m freezing.”
Dad smiled. “Of course.”
I went to have a shower. Just before I turned the taps on, I overheard snippets of my parents’ conversation floating up the stairs.
“Where did she find this…millionaire?”
“He’s in a band.”
“Of course he is.”
“She’s been much more cheerful recently. There haven’t been any panic attacks and no more of that terrifying crying.”
“I know. That’s all brilliant, but I want that to be because she’s happy with herself, not just because some boy likes her.”
“You don’t need to worry. Poppy’s always had a strong sense of self – you taught her that. She’s allowed to have a boyfriend. It’s definitely the age. And he seems to really like her. At least he’s not messing her around, messing her up…”
“Yes, you’re right. God, it’s weird seeing your daughter fall in love though, isn’t it?”
I smiled at this as I peeled off my tights and stepped into the shower.
“Very weird. But I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”
I turned the tap on and the sound of their conversation was drowned out. I felt an overwhelming love for them both. They probably did need to meet Noah. I knew once Dad met him he would realize he wasn’t just this jumped-up flashy rich boy. Although it was terribly soon for the whole meeting-the-parents thing. Or was it? Everything about Noah was on super-speed anyway. And it all felt so right. So very, very right.
My phone rang just as I was getting dressed. Lizzie. I prepared myself for the interrogation.
I flipped it open but didn’t even get a chance to say hello.
“So what happened then?”
“Hello to you too.”
“Screw niceties. What happened?”
“Why are you so interested?”
I tried to pull a jumper on and keep my phone against my cheek at the same time.
“Because last night I was so bored and stuck inside because of the snow, I seriously considered practising snogging on my cat.”
I giggled. “Things that bad, eh?”
“I’ll live. The news is still my only love.”
“Of course.”
“So stop stalling. Where did he take you?”
I paused for dramatic effect. “He took me to the ballet.”
A gasp. “Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“Wow.”
“And that’s not all of it.”
“It’s not?”
“No. He bought me a dress to wear. And then we got stuck in the snow and ended up staying in a five-star hotel.”
Silence.
“Lizzie?”
More silence.
“Lizzie?”
Even more silence.
“LIZZIE?”
“I’m here…” She was breathing heavily. “Sorry. I fell off my chair in excitement and it took me a while to find the receiver again.”
I laughed.
“Seriously though, Poppy, is he a robot? Or has he read some kind of special ‘how to be a perfect boyfriend’ self-help book? And if so, can we buy multiple copies and plant them all around Middletown for other boys to read?”
That made me laugh again. “It’s almost vom-inducing, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s disgusting. I hate you. I also want to hear everything.”
“Well…” I started.
“Not over the phone. I want every last detail. Face to face. We’re going sledging. You, me, Ruth, Amanda, maybe some of Johnno’s mates. Come. And tell me everything then.”
“Sledging?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh huh.”
“We’ve never sledged before.”
“Well, I figured, as it’s quite clear the world is ending, it’s something we should tick off the list before the Apocalypse.”
“You really think it’s the end of the world?”
“Yes. The weather always knows.”
I opened my wardrobe drawer, trying to find something suitable for sledging. “It was just a storm, and then some snow.”
“And the power cut.”
“That wasn’t anything to do with the weather.”
“They still don’t know what caused it.”
“Hmm.”
“And we’ve had an Indian summer.”
“It’s called global warming.”
“It’s called the Apocalypse. I read about it on the internet. It’s something to do with giants and monks, and the calendar ending.”
I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and practised raising an eyebrow.
“Well,” I said, “if it IS indeed the end of the world, that’s such a shame, because it means you’ll never have the chance to grow up and be a proper journalist.”
Lizzie went quiet.
“Well, maybe it’s just the beginning of the end of the world. I’m sure we’ve still got a few years…decades…on our side.”
“Of course.”
“Meet us at top of the common at two-ish.”
“Will do.”
And then we hung up.
It was gorgeous walking up to the common in the snow. It had been transformed into the proverbial winter wonderland, each tree branch laden with a heavy layer of crisp ice. I’d never thought the common could be improved upon but, with snow – wow. It was mind-blowing. It had snowed before in Middletown, but never this much, and I’d never gone up the common in it. Much as I whinged about living in boring suburbia, I did feel lucky right then. In London the snow had all gone by early morning, and everyone still had to go to work and college, but here we still had huge areas left unspoiled by footprints or cars.
Everyone was already at the top w
hen I got there.
“Hello all,” I yelled, waving at them.
They waved back. Everyone, like me, was wearing multiple layers and looked puffy and childlike. Even Ruth was wearing a bobble hat, her crimson hair peeking out. All their cheeks were pink, their mouths smiling, as if snow had a way of extracting happiness from even the most determined of mardy bums.
“Don’t mention the hat,” Ruth said when I got over to them. “I’m praying Johnno and his mates don’t come, otherwise I’m going to have to take it off and get frostbite of the head.”
Lizzie was wearing a parka I’d never seen before and had the fuzzy hood up.
“Isn’t this great?” she asked, her breath coming out as frozen steam. “Look at our sledges.”
I saw two tea trays and a rubber ring. “Those are not sledges.”
“They’ll do.”
“You can go first then,” Amanda said. She looked the most like a child in her numerous layers, her little face poking out from an array of scarves. “But first,” she said. “I want to hear all about this ballet and hotel.” She winked at me.
I turned to Lizzie.
“You told them!”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Of course I told them. Why are you even surprised?”
“Isn’t it too cold for chatting?”
“Nope,” Ruth said. She didn’t appear bothered by the prospect of a Noah conversation. Maybe the snow really did wash away grumpiness. “Any reason to delay Lizzie pushing me over a cliff on that bloody tray.”
“Alright then.”
We stood shivering as I filled them in on the dress, the ballet, the snow, the hotel – although I didn’t mention the bed barrier or the fight. They gasped and squealed and, of course, demanded to come round and see The Dress.
“Wow,” Amanda said. “I swear you are living in a movie, Poppy. I mean, this stuff doesn’t happen in real life.”
I knew it was true but I couldn’t agree, as that would be big-headed, so I shrugged. “I just got lucky.”
Ruth was a bit quiet.
“How are things going with you and Will?” I ventured, hoping she hadn’t changed her mind and dumped him since I last saw her.
She smiled. “Yeah, great. You should see the outfit I’ve got for the gig. It’s amazing!”
“It’s still two weeks away and you’ve got an outfit already?”
She gave me a withering look, like I was a child still trying to work out how the world worked. “Poppy, it’s a big gig. We have to come across as professional groupies.”
I stuck my tongue out. “Ergh. I don’t want to be a groupie. Can’t I just be the girlfriend of the guitarist? They’re lucky to have us, right?”
Ruth gave me the face again. “Fair enough. But if you don’t sleep with Noah, trust me, there will be hundreds of girls willing to take your place.”
“I’m willing to take that chance.” My voice broke a little, showing my false confidence.
“I’m just saying.”
I tried not to let her words bother me, but they did. They were probably supposed to.
“Come on,” Lizzie said, breaking the tension as always. “Let’s try out these sledges.”
We all groaned but shuffled into position.
“How does this work?” I asked, straddling a tea tray.
Lizzie scratched her head with her mitten. “Erm, I’m not too sure. I think you just sit on it and push off with your feet.”
I gingerly lowered my bottom onto it and put my feet up.
Nothing happened.
“Nothing’s happening.”
“Erm…maybe you need a push?”
“Okay. Be careful.”
Lizzie gave me a tap. I still didn’t move.
“Lizzie, that was pathetic. Push me harder.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Let’s see what these things can do.”
And before I knew it I was careering down the hill, screaming, with my hair flying behind me and snow flying over the tea tray into my face.
“Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
I bumped over fox holes, swerved to avoid families walking their dogs, and arrived at the bottom of the hill far too quickly.
I got off, turned, and waved at my friends, who looked tiny at the top of the hill.
“ARE YOU ALIVE?!” Amanda called.
“YOU HAVE TO TRY THAT!” I called back.
The next few hours were spent running up and down the hill, taking it in turns to push each other. Johnno and his friends turned up and Ruth’s hat magically vanished into her coat pocket. We turned sledging into a tournament and began racing the two trays. At one point we tried putting two people on one tray to see if the gravitational force (Johnno does physics) made us go faster. Unfortunately we tried this experiment using Amanda and one of Johnno’s mates and she was too shy to hold onto him properly. This meant that halfway down the hill, she came flying off the tray and sailed through the air with an astonished look on her face, before face-planting into a massive snowdrift. As you can imagine, this led to A LOT of laughing, and soon the competition had evolved into seeing how many people you could fit on one tea tray.
As the fun continued, the upset from my stunted conversation with Ruth faded, although she’d reawoken that familiar paranoia I felt about Noah. The fact I wasn’t going to be seeing much of him for a while certainly wouldn’t help either. I tried to push it from my mind though.
Much too soon, the sky got darker and people began to go home. Lizzie and I walked back together.
“The snow’s melting already,” she whinged, kicking it up with her wellington boot. “Does that mean the end of the Middletown Winter Olympics?”
She was right. It was definitely turning into mush.
“At least it snowed enough for them to cancel college,” I said. “It would’ve been rubbish if we were stuck inside all day.”
“Ergh. College. I’m so behind in my coursework it’s not even funny.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah right. You always say that but you always have it done.”
“Not this time. I dunno. There just doesn’t seem to be enough time to do anything at the moment.”
Lizzie fluttered her eyelashes at me. “Is it because you’re in luuuuurrrve?!”
I pushed her into a snowdrift. She squealed and struggled to get up, before emerging looking like a yeti.
“Ouch!”
“You look like the Snowman.”
“Yeah, well you look like my five-year-old cousin when we dress her up for the Christmas Day walk.”
We walked for a bit longer. My feet were beginning to go numb.
“Don’t worry about what Ruth said,” Lizzie offered, still looking ahead. “I don’t think you have to worry about Noah running off with some fan.”
This is what I loved about Lizzie. Sometimes, out of the blue, she could just read your mind and say exactly what you needed to hear.
“Thank you.”
“I still can’t believe he bought you a dress.”
I laughed. “Me neither.”
“Poppy?”
“Yes?”
“You’re very lucky, you know that, right?”
I thought of Noah and how it felt this morning to wake up next to him.
“I know.”
It took about ten million years to de-layer when I got home. I stood on the welcome mat, shedding clothes like a snake.
Mum eyeballed the pile of sodden garments next to the mat.
“I’m not washing all those. You’ve dirtied your entire wardrobe.”
I shook one leg to try and get my foot out of my wellington. “I know. I’ll do my own laundry. It’s cold outside!”
“Hmm.”
She walked away unimpressed, probably because she knew she wouldn’t be able to help herself and would end up doing my laundry anyway. She couldn’t stand to watch me use the washing machine. Apparently I was “too rough” with the buttons.
Once I�
��d finally removed all my snow clothes, I went to find Dad in the living room.
He was grumbling from behind a giant stack of newspapers.
“Dad, are you in there somewhere?”
His face popped over the top, frowning. He folded up a magazine.
“Your mother is making me do the recycling, rather than enjoy my day off work.”
“That doesn’t sound fun.”
“It isn’t. But she’s scary when she’s in project mode.”
“Do you want some help?”
He grinned. “Go on then.”
I sat on the carpet and helped him sort out the massive pile of newspapers he’d accumulated.
“Jesus, Dad, why do you keep them all?”
“I might need them one day.”
“What? For an exposé on the council’s recycling plant?”
“Maybe.”
I was about to put another issue on the “toss” pile, when a headline caught my eye. “Hang on,” I said. “This is today’s.”
The front page been blacked out, with all the usual adverts for local taxi companies removed.
TWENTY CONFIRMED DEAD IN SNOW HORROR SMASH
There was a photo of cars crunched up like discarded revision notes, the steel corrugated into ghastly angles.
I had a flicker of a memory from the night before – the TV news.
“Dad?” I asked, pulling the paper further towards me. “Was this on the M25?”
Dad nodded. “Right near our junction.”
“I saw it on the news last night. I didn’t realize it was so close to home.”
I opened the paper. On pages two and three, sandwiched between text, were a few grainy photos of the people who’d lost their lives. Their eyes looked out at me from the cheap newsprint almost accusingly, like they knew I’d been watching a film with my boyfriend, having a fantastic time, just as their entire existence was being wiped out like solved equations on a school whiteboard.
I shuddered.
“Anyone we know?” I looked at the photos, and didn’t recognize anyone.
Dad shook his head. “A few of the bodies have yet to be identified,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “But I’m sure if it was people we knew we would have found out by now.”
I put the paper down on the coffee table. “Dad? What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure, Poppy. Global warming? It’s usually something to do with global warming.”
I read the paper over his shoulder for the next minute or so, before standing up and stretching.
