Season's Meetings

by Amy Dunne

  The most recent was of her bakery, Indulgence, and included photos of the building work, decorating, sign unveiling, and grand opening. There was an older album with photos from a family wedding. Katie, Beth, and Florence were in them.

  Katie and Holly’s family were basically a huge close-knit clan. Catherine had been introduced to the mass of relatives on two separate occasions: Beth and Katie’s wedding, and Florence’s christening. Being an only child with no living relations other than Granny Birch, she’d found both occasions daunting and loud, but also fascinating. It’d been impossible to remember all the names, let alone how they were related to Katie.

  A thought struck.

  Had she been introduced to Holly either time? Try as she might, she’d no recollection of meeting Holly before this afternoon. Holly would only have been eighteen at the time. Drawing a blank, Catherine turned her attention back to the screen.

  The final album was the largest. It was a collection of photos taken by Holly during the three years she’d spent living in Paris. Catherine was so enthralled by what she saw, she went through the album twice. Some photos were taken during the height of summer and others during snow-filled winters. A fair few were of the usual tourist traps and stunning Parisian architecture. The other photos gave a deep insight into Holly’s personal life. One photo in particular showed her with a stern-looking man. They were both dressed in chef’s whites and stood behind a glass counter that showcased row upon row of beautiful, intricately decorated cakes and pastries. Holly was smiling, her head held high. Pleasure and pride showing in equal measures.

  There were also various photos of Holly with a tall, tanned, older woman whose name was tagged as Lacina. It didn’t take a genius to work out that Lacina was Holly’s ex. As Catherine scrolled through each photo, she felt blatant jealousy burn inside, intensified by each smile and every embrace the couple shared.

  Having enough of snooping—especially because she didn’t like what she’d found—Catherine logged off and tried reading before quickly giving up on that, too. She removed her glasses and switched off the bedside light, stifling a yawn as she rubbed her grainy eyes. In the dark, thoughts and feelings became interchangeable, leaving her in a constant state of flux.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she asked herself.

  She couldn’t remember ever having felt so drawn to another person. It was as though Holly had bewitched her. Every time she thought about Holly’s smile, laugh, or the feel of her soft lips pressed against her cheek, her heart bucked against her rib cage. Could Holly be playing a game with her? Flirting and then leaving her high and dry? Maybe she was only interested in a festive fling. Catherine’s spirits sank. It would explain why Holly had suddenly changed when she’d mentioned the restaurant. Had the kiss been a cruel joke, dragging out the flirtation?

  “She’s not like that,” Catherine whispered. From the short but intense time she’d spent with Holly, she instinctively knew Holly wasn’t a player. Plus her photos and profile showed how important friends and family were to her. There hadn’t been any horrible messages from disgruntled one-night stands—Catherine had thoroughly searched.

  She’d never met Holly before—to her knowledge anyway—but there was an undeniable connection between them. Something had niggled in Catherine’s subconscious from the moment she sat in the car. It hinted at déjà vu and warned of negative connotations. Still, she failed to grasp the hidden reason and had to give up trying. Holly was a lovely, bubbly, gorgeous, confident, and successful woman. But she was also Katie’s favourite baby cousin and had a strong family tie to Beth. Reality came crashing over Catherine like a tidal wave, forcing her to face the past. The promise she’d made to Beth years ago forced a sharp shock of reality that burst all romantic thoughts.

  “It’s been years,” she whispered to herself. Would Beth still hold her to that promise? Would she remember it? Her stomach squirmed in answer. It didn’t matter whether Beth remembered; Catherine remembered, and that was all that mattered. She’d made the promise to her best friend and therefore should keep it. Nothing more could happen with Holly.

  As she closed her eyes, she heard the familiar sound of Granny Birch’s voice in her head. “If you play with fire, Catherine, you’ve got to expect to get burned.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Catherine had never been a morning person. After a miserable night’s sleep and having to wake up at such an ungodly hour, today was proving to not be an exception to the rule. Even after allowing herself an entire hour in which to get ready, she was still aimlessly shuffling around like a zombie when Holly quietly knocked on the door.

  With one last glance at her reflection, she had to admit defeat. The dark rings beneath her eyes were there to stay, as apparently no amount of makeup was going to cover them. Her left eye was bloodshot and bleary after she’d managed to poke herself twice with her mascara brush. Appling makeup was never an easy task, as without her glasses she was practically blind. But attempting it while half asleep had caused mess and pain.

  She studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her hair was okay. Her face looked haggard, her makeup heavy-handed. It was too late to do anything about it now. The jeans were a little creased but comfortable. The red turtleneck jumper looked surprisingly festive, which hadn’t been her intention. Her sneakers were the only shoes she had packed with decent grip, and so she had to wear them even though they didn’t go with the outfit.

  While buttoning up her coat, she peered through the peephole. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Holly looked beautiful. Her glossy hair, including the troublesome wisp, was tied back in a bun. She was fresh faced, without so much as a hint of makeup or tiredness. She was wearing her coat but hadn’t fastened it up, and beneath she wore a baggy grey hoodie. Catherine was disappointed. Thick black sweatpants had replaced the tight-fitting jeans from yesterday. A pleated purple scarf wrapped around her neck, and she’d donned the same raggedy boots.

  “Jeez,” Catherine whispered, embarrassed about being so overdressed. “Talk about bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

  Holly raised her hand to knock again, but Catherine quickly unlocked the door. “Morning,” she said, wincing at the lame greeting. She became increasingly uncomfortable, knowing she’d spent last night purposefully invading Holly’s privacy.

  “Good morning,” Holly said cheerily. “You look great.”

  “You look beautiful,” Catherine said. She’d spoken without thinking again. Her face erupted into a fiery blush, and she begged herself to try engaging her brain before opening her mouth.

  “I’m pretty sure I look like I’m homeless, but thank you.” Holly smiled. She shifted the shoulder strap of her rucksack and asked, “Shall we go?”

  Catherine nodded. She wheeled her suitcase out into the corridor and then attempted to quietly close the door. Still wallowing in humiliation and not trusting herself to speak again, she silently followed Holly.

  They were met at reception by a male member of staff whose overbearing cheeriness irritated Catherine immediately.

  “A very good morning to you, ladies,” he said, brandishing a toothy grin.

  Catherine ignored his sickly sweet greeting and tossed her key card onto the desk before turning her back to him.

  Holly stepped up next and handed over her key card. “Good morning.”

  “Thank you,” he said, placing the key card behind the desk. “Wanting to make an early start? I don’t blame you. I had to walk to work today. With the snow that fell last night it was the safer option.”

  “You really walked?” Holly asked. “In this weather?”

  “I did, indeed. Fortunately, I live nearby. In weather like this I always walk and leave the car at home.”

  “We’re going to try to get to our destination before the big storm hits,” Holly said.

  He gave a nod. “The weather forecast said it’s going to be a nasty one. I hope you don’t have far to travel.”

  Holly shuffled he
r feet. “We’re heading to Aviemore, in the Cairngorms National Park.” She shoved her hands into the hoodie’s front pocket. “It’s at least a four-hour drive.”

  The man’s cheerful disposition changed. Now he looked worried. “No. I’m afraid it’s four hours in good weather. With last night’s snowfall and the warnings for the storm that’s coming, well, I wouldn’t even hazard a guess as to how long it’ll take you.”

  Pretending not to listen, but hanging on his every word, Catherine’s heart sank.

  “That’s why we’re leaving so early,” Holly said weakly. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  “Look, I know it’s not my place to say it,” he said, lowering his tone. “But I really don’t recommend attempting to drive that distance today. The roads are dangerous already. But when that storm hits, they’ll become lethal. I don’t want to upset or worry you needlessly, but in the past we’ve heard of people getting stranded and freezing to death in their cars.”

  Holly gasped. “How awful.”

  The man shook his head sadly. “The weather we get can be unpredictable. I’d just hate to think of you trapped somewhere. Have you considered waiting it out? We’ve had some cancellations, so there are plenty of rooms available for tonight. I know it’s not an exciting prospect, but it’s safe.”

  Catherine turned, her gaze flicking between the man and Holly. Perhaps they should take his advice.

  “Thank you for your concern. It’s very kind of you,” Holly said, rebuffing him politely. “But we’ve made important plans and we can’t let our family down. I promise we’ll be extra cautious.”

  “Well, if you’re sure I can’t persuade you?” he asked, pausing with expectation for a few seconds before shaking his head softly. “I’d better let you get on your way, then. I really do hope you get to Aviemore safely. Good-bye, ladies.”

  “Good-bye. Oh, and Merry Christmas,” Holly said.

  “You, too.”

  Turning to face Catherine, Holly blew out a deep breath. “Ready?”

  Catherine nodded. They walked to the main doors, stopped, and stared in dismay. At least another foot of snow had fallen overnight. The flakes were still falling, dense and heavy. Catherine felt claustrophobic. The weather showed no signs of easing. The car park was eerily aglow from the brightness of the snow. Even the cloudy sky was surprisingly light, which only made everything seem all the more surreal. Under different circumstances, Catherine would have admitted the car park looked beautiful. Having lived down south for most of her life, she’d never seen so much snow. It became startlingly clear to her that, although stunning, the snow could easily become a formidable enemy. A chill broke out across her flesh as she remembered the reception man’s warnings and horror story.

  Holly glanced down at Catherine’s sneakers and said, “Your feet are going to get soaked. I’ve got a spare pair of wellies in the car. I’ll go fetch them for you.”

  Catherine had no choice other than to accept. She watched helplessly as Holly trudged her way through the fresh snow to her car. After dumping her rucksack in the boot, she started up the engine and rooted around in the boot before returning with a pair of bright pink wellies.

  Catherine removed her sneakers and forced her feet inside the wellies, which was an uncomfortable squeeze. Holly’s feet were at least a size smaller. They both picked up an end of her suitcase and plodded back to the car, where Holly shoved it onto the backseat.

  Catherine clambered into the passenger seat. She hissed many swear words while pulling off the wellies so she could return to the comfort of her sneakers. As she tied her laces, she watched Holly scrape the snow from the windscreen.

  The inside of the car was quickly warming up, and Catherine made the executive decision to remove her coat. Yesterday she’d gotten too hot and it had only added to her grumpiness. After dumping the wellies and her coat in the back, she successfully managed to move her seat backward. The additional two inches of leg room she garnered gave her immense satisfaction.

  With all the windows now clear of snow, Holly got inside the car and removed her coat, flinging it into the back. She spent a few minutes faffing around before shoving a dog-eared map into Catherine’s lap.

  “Just in case,” Holly said, a little too flippantly for Catherine’s liking.

  Slowly, they set off. Catherine felt surprisingly calm, especially considering she was once again a passenger seated inside the death trap car, facing a potentially hazardous journey and an impending snow storm from hell. She reminded herself in a few hours she’d be hugging Florence, and that would make this whole trip worthwhile.

  *

  The plan was to stop at the nearest rest stop for petrol, snacks, and more importantly, coffee. After an hour of driving, they had yet to come across one. They made slow progress, as Holly was only comfortable driving at a sluggish speed. They’d also barely spoken. Catherine didn’t want to interrupt Holly’s intense concentration.

  Holly sat bolt upright on the edge of her seat, with both hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. Her jaws locked as she rolled her shoulders. Catherine had always struggled with gauging other people’s feelings, but she could feel Holly’s fear. Real fear. Try as she might, she couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to say to calm Holly. She was scared, too.

  They’d been ludicrous to consider driving in such conditions. But voicing that opinion would only succeed in making Holly feel she didn’t trust her driving abilities, which was only partly true. You wouldn’t tell a knife thrower you doubted her ability to hit the apple on top of your head with her next throw. For better or worse, she was stuck on this ride until the end, and she only hoped their end would be safely arriving at Beth’s house.

  In the distance, she spotted lights. “Rest stop ahead.”

  Holly kept her eyes glued to the road, but gave a curt nod. Five minutes later, they pulled under the petrol station’s canopy. In a flash, Catherine unbuckled herself, opened the door, and jumped out onto the concrete.

  “I’m going to use the restroom. Fill her up. I’ll pay on the way back,” she said. She managed one stride before the blare of the car’s horn made her nearly jump out of her skin. She turned in time to see Holly marching over to her.

  “Why say that?” Holly asked.

  Taken aback by Holly’s gruff tone, Catherine took half a step back. “It makes sense to fill the tank up now that we’re here.”

  Holly placed her hands on her hips. “Of course I’m going to fill the tank up.”

  “I don’t understand what the problem is.”

  Holly huffed, and her breath formed a cloud of steam. Although they were out of the snow, the air was still freezing, and Catherine’s teeth were starting to rattle.

  “Have I done something wrong?” Catherine asked. She was tempted to fetch her coat, but suspected it wasn’t a good idea. She didn’t want to aggravate Holly further.

  “What makes you think I can’t afford to fill the tank up?” Holly shrunk farther into her hoodie, but her eyes pierced Catherine with their icy stare.

  “I don’t think that.”

  “Why offer to pay, then?”

  Catherine hunched and turned away from an icy gust of wind. This was ridiculous. “I was told we were going to split the cost of the petrol.” Her tone was harsher than she intended, but her irritation was growing with every second of freezing her arse off. “Was it agreed or not?”

  Holly’s eyes opened a little wider. “Yeah, that was agreed.”

  “Then what exactly is the problem?”

  Holly looked at the floor. “I’m sorry—”

  “Am I paying for the petrol or not?” Catherine was close to losing her temper.

  “Yes,” Holly said sheepishly. “Thank you.”

  Catherine stalked away, her annoyance momentarily taking precedence over the bitter cold. After using the restroom, she studied her reflection while washing her hands. She looked tired and her left eye was still bloodshot. Dark smudges of mascara had smeared beneath her eye
s. She wiped them away and then hovered near the hand dryer, allowing the stream of hot air to thaw out her numb hands.

  What the hell had gotten into Holly? She’d been so feisty and argumentative for no reason. Her eyes had shone so brightly and her face was flushed in the cold. If it hadn’t been for the fact Catherine was now likely to develop hypothermia, she might have found the physiological responses of Holly’s outburst sexy.

  “You’re a mess,” she said to herself. Feeling fed up, she headed back to the petrol station’s store.

  Holly sat in the car, so Catherine picked up a basket and quickly scanned the shelves looking for nothing in particular. She threw in a couple of packets of sweets, four large bottles of water, and a large bag of crisps. She queued up and tried to ignore the Christmas song playing over the radio system. When she reached the counter, she told the cashier the pump number and watched as he rung through the items in her basket.

  “Emergency snow kit?” the cashier asked in an emotionless tone.

  Catherine looked at the display he was pointing to. After a moment of hesitation she said, “I’ll take a torch, batteries, a pair of gloves, and one of the hats.”

  The cashier added the items to her bag and updated the total, while Catherine read an advertisement for snow chains for car tyres. “I’ll take four snow chains, too.” They were expensive, but Catherine wasn’t about to put a price on their safety.

  “Sold out.”

  “Do you have anything similar?” Catherine asked, trying not to get annoyed at the pimpled-face brat, who seemed incapable of stringing together a sentence.

  “Nah.”

  Biting her tongue to keep back an unsavoury retort, Catherine paid on her card. She gathered the bag by its handles and left. She sprinted to the car, put the bag in the footwell of the backseat, then dove into the front passenger seat.