by Fiona Harper
He yanked the wheel hard to the left and squeezed the brake pedal until it reached the floor. The car turned but the back end carried on skidding to the side. Adele let out a short, sharp scream and braced herself against the dashboard.
Somehow, he remembered to turn the wheels into the skid and the car came slowly to a halt. He needed to get his bearings, find out how things had gone so drastically wrong, so he opened the door and jumped out of the car, and almost instantly backed up so he was pressed against the closed rear door.
He didn’t care about the icy specks that dampened his hair and face. All he could see was the small cliff only a couple of feet in front of him. All he could imagine was a battered car at the bottom.
‘Nick?’ Adele’s voice was faint. He heard it, but somehow couldn’t register it.
He blinked and looked down the short cliff again. It was only a drop of ten feet or so, but enough to do damage to both the car and its occupants. A sheep bleated and stared back at him, clearly wondering how anyone could be so stupid.
He was asking himself the very same question.
He got slowly into the car again and pressed himself back into his seat by pushing away with straightened arms on the steering wheel. If only he’d kept his emotions in check, brushed it all off as he normally did, then he wouldn’t have lost concentration.
A cold feeling tingled inside him. Fear. It wasn’t just a mangled car he’d imagined at the bottom of the cliff, but also a twisted and broken Adele. And it would have been all his fault.
All his petty niggles about who was right and who was wrong now seemed hollow. None of that mattered. All he could think about, all he could taste in his mouth, was horror at the prospect of losing her.
‘Nick? Are you all right?’ Her voice seemed to drift in from far away.
He opened his eyes slowly and turned to look at her. ‘That was close.’
Her eyes were wide, her face pale. ‘I know, but we’re OK. Let’s just get out of here and get back onto the main road—any main road. I don’t care what that thing of yours says, I just want to see white lines and two-way traffic again.’
Without that thing of his they would have…
He started the car up again and took a good look at the road before he pulled away. The track had turned sharply to the left—almost a right angle—and now dipped down a steep hill. He went slowly, but even so, the wheels slid on the ice hidden under the fresh dusting of snow. He kept control—just—and brought them to a stop at the bottom of the hill.
There was another gate, but this one was closed. Adele nodded, sharing his thoughts, it seemed, and got out of the car. After a minute or so he joined her.
‘It’s no good, Nick. There’s a chain through the latch and it’s padlocked. We can’t get through.’
Nick rattled the chain. It was rusty but surprisingly solid. The padlock was new and shiny. No hope of shifting it at all. He swore and marched back to the car, grabbed the sat nav from its cradle and zoomed out to get a bigger map of the area. The stupid thing was right. If they could keep going for another mile or two, they’d be back on a main road and much closer to the motorway than when they’d started off.
Good intentions, but a little lacking on essential information. A bit like him really.
One gate. One obstacle was all it had taken to bring them to a grinding halt. The only thing for it was to retrace their steps and see if they could get back to where they’d been earlier.
He watched Adele climb into the car again and clap the powdery snow off her gloves. If only relationships were that easy too. What he wouldn’t give to retrace his steps, take a ride back in time, and return to before the point when the cracks started appearing in their life together. But it didn’t work that way. Time marched on and you always ended up further along the path you’d chosen, no matter which direction you travelled.
She looked at him, her face strangely expressionless. ‘What now?’
‘Only one thing for it. We turn round and go back the way we came, then on to Invergarrig. We’ll be late for the meal, but we should still get there before midnight.’
‘Do you want me to phone your mum and let her know we’re going to be late?’
He smiled, but it was half-hearted. ‘That would be great.’
At least Adele’s organised nature meant she always thought of little details like that, he thought. Mum would worry if they weren’t there on time and he didn’t want to give her any more stress.
He did a three-point turn while Adele reached for her phone, took her gloves off, punched a couple of buttons then held it to her ear. A few seconds later she pulled it away to stare at the display.
‘No signal.’
Nick looked up the hill in front of him. ‘Must be because we’re down in a dip. Mobile-phone coverage is a little patchy in this area at the best of times. Try again when we get to the top of the hill.’
She nodded and folded her hands in her lap, phone clasped between them.
He revved the engine and started to move the little car up the hill. The first third was fine as the incline was a little shallower there, but as soon as they tried to go any further, the wheels just spun and the car started to slide backwards.
Changing gear didn’t help much. They only moved another fifteen feet before gravity and ice conspired to send them back to the bottom of the slope. It felt as if the little hatchback was a counter in a giant game of snakes and ladders as it edged its way up the hill again and again, only to be sent sliding back to where it had started.
After the fifth attempt, he turned to Adele. ‘I don’t suppose the ever-organised Adele has snow chains hidden away in the boot, does she?’
She gave him a look. ‘We live in London, Nick. When do we need snow chains? The snow only gets a couple of inches deep and the school kids are lucky if it hasn’t disappeared by lunchtime.’
‘I was only asking. You do seem to have the uncanny ability to whip tweezers, Sellotape or a mini first-aid kit out of your handbag whenever required. I was wondering if the same magic worked with your car, that’s all.’
‘Making fun of me is not going to help.’
He put his foot down on the accelerator again, annoyed that she had taken offence at his attempt to lighten the mood. Why did she do that? Why did everything he said have to be a dig at her?
Once again the car began to slip and in his irritation he stepped too hard on the brake, and what in past attempts had been a gentle backward slide now became a fully fledged skid. As the slope flattened it was like being thrown off the end of a helter-skelter. The car shot backwards and, even though he regained some control, he didn’t manage to stop the rear end banging into one of the very solid-looking gateposts.
‘Nick!’
‘I’m doing my best, Adele.’
She glowered at him and got out of the car to inspect the damage. Once again his best had fallen too far short of good enough. He got out and joined her. Apart from a large verticaldent in the hatchback door and bumper, it wasn’t serious. It just wouldn’t look very pretty until they got it banged out.
She held out a stiff arm and wiggled her fingers. ‘Give me your phone.’
Seeing as he’d just pranged her car, he decided it wasn’t wise to ask her to say pretty please before he handed it over.
She tapped in a number and waited, then, still not smiling, gave a thumbs-up sign that he presumed meant that his phone network had better coverage in this area and that somehow she’d managed to get a patchy signal.
‘Hello? I need a tow truck or something to come and help us—’
Her brows drew closer together and she pursed her lips.
‘Hello?’
A sinking feeling crept from his stomach right down into his icy toes. He’d meant to charge his phone up again last night at Craig’s flat, but there hadn’t been an available socket while Kai had been straightening her hair, and then they’d got to opening a couple of bottles of beer and swapping stories…
Adele
slapped the phone into his hand and stomped off to sit back in the passenger seat. His snazzy new mobile beeped pathetically and flickered into a coma.
He got back into the car himself, glad to be out of the thickening snowfall, and realised they didn’t need to turn the heater up. Adele’s anger was doing a great job of heating the air in the confined space all on its own.
‘Classic Nick.’ Her words were bare, but he knew the lava was bubbling out of control beneath the surface.
‘Ah, come on! Even you can’t blame the weather on me.’ He grinned, hoping she caught the dimples he was flashing at her. He was in so much trouble now, it couldn’t hurt to dig himself out any way he knew how. ‘I know I’m good, but I’m not that good.’
‘All we had to do was make a simple trip from London to Scotland, but you have to go and complicate the whole thing with your detours and your stupid navigation thingy.’
‘That stupid navigation thingy stopped us going over a cliff!’
‘Which we wouldn’t have been anywhere near if we’d carried on on the main road instead of taking that turning.’
‘Now, hang on. I seem to remember someone telling me to shut up and follow instructions.’
‘I’m new to that thing. All it wants to do is get us back on the motorway, you said. How was I supposed to know it was going to take us on some wild-goose chase?’
‘Maaaaa.’
Both Nick and Adele jumped out of their seats and stared at the sheep that was casually looking at them over the bonnet of the car. They looked at each other and back at the sheep. It tossed its head and trotted off through a narrow gap between the gatepost and the dry-stone wall. Show-off.
‘Wild-sheep chase, more like,’ Nick said and rubbed his face with his hands.
When he looked at Adele, he could tell she was clamping her lips together in an effort not to laugh.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! You are impossible, Nick Hughes.’
‘I know. I’ve had a badge made. “I am impossible,” it says. I could have sworn I pinned it on my sweatshirt this morning, but it seems to have gone astray.’
One side of Adele’s mouth curled up. ‘You don’t need a badge to state the flaming obvious, you know.’
He smiled back. No effort at dimples this time. Just a pleased my wife has forgotten I’m the enemy type of grin.
‘I suppose it’s not your fault. I mean, you couldn’t have known it would take us down a farm track rather than a country lane, could you?’
Nick went very still.
Adele fixed her eyes on him. ‘You couldn’t, could you?’
He winced.
She flopped back in her seat and covered her face with her hands. ‘It’s done this before, hasn’t it?’
‘Only just after I’d first got it in the States. I kept getting lost in LA so I decided to invest in something to help. Then one weekend, when I had some time off, I went for a drive in the country. Ended up in an orange grove…But I thought it was just a teething problem, a bug that had worked itself out.’
She shook her head. ‘A bug,’ was all she muttered before she turned away from him to look out of the window. ‘Just when I think I can rely on you at last, you remind me that I’m kidding myself. If I can’t depend on you for the small things, how am I going to depend on you for the really important stuff?’
They sat in silence for another five minutes and twenty-three seconds. Nick knew because he’d become strangely absorbed in the clock on the dashboard. It ticked a steady beat in the silence, reminding him of a time bomb about to explode.
‘Adele, can I have your phone, please?’
‘No signal, remember?’
‘I know, but I can walk to the top of the hill and see if I can get a signal there.’
‘Don’t be stupid, the light’s almost disappeared.’
He held out his hand. ‘Exactly why I should do this sooner rather than later. You don’t want to be stuck out here all night, do you? If you think it’s cold now, you should wait until three in the morning.’
She handed it over and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Just…be careful,’ she said, staring at the floor.
He was about to say careful was his middle name, but thought better of it. No way was Adele buying that one. He could think of a ton of words she would use to describe him, and none were particularly flattering.
Adele watched Nick through the window as he trudged up the snowy slope. He was keeping to the grassy verge and it didn’t look as if he was about to skate down the hill as the car had done. She turned her attention to the dials that controlled the heat in the car.
Even with the heater at full blast she could still see her breath coming in clouds and the tip of her nose was numb.
She shivered. If she’d been in London, she’d have thought she was dressed warmly in her jeans and nice thick jumper, but here in snowbound Cumbria she was feeling the need for more padding.
Layers. That was what she needed. More layers. And she knew just where to find them. Her suitcase was in the boot and she had a vest top and a long-sleeved T-shirt that would insulate her better.
She climbed out of the car, legs stiff from being cramped into a small space for hours and from the cold. However, her plan for layers was thwarted when she got round to the boot.
The big, fat dent was more than just an eyesore. The door was jammed shut and no amount of tugging and pulling and yelling at it made it budge. She knew that for a fact, because she tried all three. In the end she resorted to yelling on its own. Not very helpful, but rather therapeutic.
When she ran out of steam, she decided to have another go, more gently this time. As she pressed and pulled, she thought she heard the click of the catch. Exultant, she sank her fingers into the recess surrounding the button and pulled with all her might.
More yelling.
This time from fear as she toppled over backwards and shock as her bottom met cold snow. Very cold snow. And the freezing wetness spread with surprising speed, soaking the backs of her legs and climbing up her back where her coat had ridden up.
She floundered in the drift near the gate for a few seconds more then managed to pull herself to standing. If she thought she’d been cold before, she was seriously mistaken. This was plunge-into-the-deep-end cold—before she’d been merely paddling in the shallows.
She searched the horizon for Nick as she clambered back into the car, her jaw quivering, even though she was clamping her teeth together to stop them from chattering. He was nowhere to be seen. Probably over the brow of the hill and out of sight. Suddenly she felt very alone. She reached forward and turned the radio on for company. The signal was bad, but it felt good to hear a human voice.
Ten minutes later she was not only feeling isolated, but also worried. Surely Nick should have been back by now? What if he hadn’t been looking where he was going and had fallen off that cliff? He could be lying there, surrounded by sheep, with a broken leg, too cold to call for help.
And they had no way of summoning assistance of any sort. The light was fading fast. Nobody would ever spot them out here. They hadn’t seen a car for ages. Only that light travelling in the distance…
Light! She had lights. Maybe if she turned the headlights on, someone would see them.
She clambered into the driver’s seat and twisted the switch on one of the levers. The headlights had been on half-beam anyway, but she switched them on to full beam and left them there. And then she had another bolt of inspiration. Stationary lights might just look like a lamp at a window, but flashing lights would surely attract attention.
She started flashing the full beam on and off at regular intervals and after twenty or so flashes she really hit her stride. Morse code. She remembered the signal for SOS from Brownies. Three short flashes, three long ones and three more short ones.
Please let someone be there to see them! And not just sheep baa-ing at the pretty lights.
She kept it up faithfully for another few minutes then gave herself a rest.
The sun had set and the flakes were falling in large round blobs. A tinge of icy blue remained on the horizon, but very soon it would be pitch dark and Nick might never make it back here.
She started flashing the headlights again, randomly this time, as much to guide him back to the car as it was to be a beacon to someone else. Nick had to come back. He couldn’t leave her alone again. Not like this. And more than that, she couldn’t bear the thought of him cold and wet and injured in the darkness.
Yes, he drove her to distraction sometimes, but there was a big difference between wanting him out of her life and him not having one. She could cope with the split if she knew he was somewhere else on the globe, doing what he loved, but if he was gone for good…
Her heart began to gallop and her breath came in puffs, steaming the windscreen. When a knuckle rapped on her window she almost shot through the roof.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘IF YOU suggest we get naked and cuddle up to conserve body heat, I’m going to slap you.’
The twinkle in Nick’s eyes was enough. She wanted to slap him anyway. Perversely, she also wanted to strip off and cuddle up to him. Freezing temperatures obviously affected logical thought.
‘I mean it, Nick.’
‘I know you do.’
Yet his eyes twinkled all the brighter. Impossible man.
‘How on earth did you get this wet staying in the car, Adele?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I was trying to get warm.’
‘By lying down and rolling around in the snow?’
‘No, by trying to get some extra clothes out of the boot. I’m not completely daft, you know. The door was stuck and I fell over trying to open it.’
Nick looked towards the back of the car then, before she could say anything, he launched himself through the gap between the front seats and clambered onto the back seat.
‘Nick!’
‘You didn’t think of doing it this way?’ He lifted the flap on the parcel shelf and reached into the boot.
‘Um…no.’
Most of Nick’s arm disappeared as he rummaged around. He then pulled out the travel blanket and first-aid kit she always kept in there. Next came his holdall, but he continued to wrestle with some unseen thing in the dark recesses of the car.
