Snowflakes Over Bay Tree Terrace (Willowbury)

by Fay Keenan

  Then she chided herself. Sam was out of the navy, he loved his new job and he wasn’t going to drop everything and go back. And they were barely a couple yet, anyway!

  Florence shook her head. Sometimes she got so lost in the stories of people’s lives, she forgot that actual people were involved. All the same, her heart ached for her Aunt Elsie. What could have been if Henry had come back to her, she’d never know. But then, if Henry had returned from war, would she, Florence, be sitting in Bay Tree Terrace now?

  Life was confusing, that was for sure. Elsie’s terrible loss had, in the end, given Florence a gain.

  As she sat herself down on the sofa and prepared herself for an evening of reading the letters, she found she couldn’t reconcile those two things.

  32

  Sam had been keen to make an early start back to Willowbury on Boxing Day, not least because he had a shift at two o’clock. He’d offered to go in a few hours early to relieve the second pilot, who had a wife and two young children, and, barring any major incidents, changeover would go smoothly. It wasn’t unusual for an air ambulance team to be working long after their shift ended if they were kept on an incident, but Sam hoped that the holiday season would mean a slightly quieter day. As a consequence, he wanted to get on the road at around eight a.m., to ensure he and Aidan had plenty of time to get back.

  Aidan was quiet on the way home, but this wasn’t unexpected after a trip to Cambridge. They both loved their mother, but she was adjusting to a reality without her husband, and although it had been nice to be together for a while, the atmosphere was taut with things that could not, or should not, be said. Selina Ellis had never been demonstrative with her emotions, and the strain of filling silences had, in the end, taken its toll on them all. It was with a sigh of relief that Sam had said goodbye early that morning; work was a convenient excuse.

  ‘Mum seems well,’ Sam said, a few miles into the journey.

  Aidan grunted, head back against the car seat.

  ‘And Katie’s managing, despite those boys giving her the run-around.’

  ‘Do you mind if we don’t do the family post-mortem right now?’ Aidan said gruffly. ‘I didn’t sleep last night.’

  ‘Sure,’ Sam replied, focusing on the road ahead. A faint prickle of unease nagged at him; Aidan had been so upbeat before he’d gone to Cambridge, and now it was like getting blood from a stone. Insomnia was one thing, but he was finely tuned to Aidan’s moods. ‘Is everything OK?’ he tried again.

  ‘I said I’m tired,’ Aidan snapped.

  Sam left it at that. There would be plenty of time when they got home, and he got off shift, to have any discussions that were needed. For the moment, he needed to focus on the road ahead. The drive wasn’t an easy one from East to West, even on Boxing Day with fewer cars on the road.

  The miles eventually were greater behind than in front, and Sam was relieved that Aidan did, indeed, seem to sleep more or less the whole way home. He knew he’d have to tackle him eventually about what had happened to cause this change of mood, but a part of him hoped that, back in the familiar surroundings of Willowbury and his own home, Aidan would seem more settled.

  He glanced at the clock on the dashboard as he came off the M5 and headed towards Willowbury. He’d just about have time to grab some lunch before his shift started. Maybe he’d even have time to knock on Florence’s door and see her before he went. He was shocked at how much he’d missed her, even in the space of a couple of days. He hoped they would be able to meet for lunch tomorrow. That strange limbo period between Christmas and New Year was such an odd time; for people as driven by routine as himself, it was often more stressful to navigate than a working week. Although he was working shifts for a lot of it, he couldn’t help worrying about leaving Aidan in post-Christmas limbo at home. Perhaps he should ask Florence to look in on him? No, he chided himself, Aidan wasn’t Florence’s responsibility.

  He shouldn’t be yours, either, a small voice spoke before Sam could hush it. There was no point continuing that train of thought.

  As he pulled into the driveway at the side of Bay Tree Terrace, Aidan stirred. Sam wasn’t sure if he’d actually slept the whole way or not; his brother could sleep like the dead. Either way, it had been clear that he had no desire to talk to Sam until now.

  ‘What time are you on?’ Aidan asked as he made a show of stretching, then flung open the car door.

  ‘Two o’clock,’ Sam replied. He felt stiff from driving for three and a half hours without a break but also relieved to be home.

  Aidan was fiddling with his phone as he walked up the path to their front door, and Sam noticed that he’d had quite a few messages since he’d been asleep.

  ‘Anyone I know?’ Sam asked, gesturing to the phone, where Aidan was briskly texting a response.

  ‘Not really,’ Aidan replied evasively, but he did, at least, turn to his brother and smile.

  Sam felt a small flicker of relief as he did so. Perhaps the visit hadn’t been so bad after all.

  ‘What time will you be home later?’ Aidan asked.

  ‘About two-thirty tomorrow morning, jobs permitting. Why?’

  ‘I might go out tonight. Tom’s asked if I fancy meeting him at The Travellers’ Rest for a pint or two.’

  Sam still felt a bit surprised that Aidan and Tom had struck up such a firm friendship, but the sense of relief got stronger. If Aidan was with Tom tonight, at least Sam wouldn’t worry so much about leaving him on his own.

  ‘OK,’ Sam replied. ‘Say hi to Tom for me.’

  ‘I will.’ Aidan hurried through the door, seemingly having forgotten all about the bags in the back of Sam’s car. Since his mood seemed to have instantly improved upon getting back to Bay Tree Terrace, Sam didn’t pick him up on it. He was glad Aidan was making friends, and if it meant they pulled him back from a dark spell, so much the better.

  As he dumped the bags in the hallway, he took out his phone from his pocket. Ever aware, and having witnessed the consequences for people who texted while driving, Sam always kept his phone in ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode when he was behind the wheel so he wasn’t tempted to check or respond to messages. As he looked at the notifications that appeared onscreen, he was relieved to see that Florence had accepted his invitation to lunch tomorrow. She’d not responded until late this morning, though, which did make him feel slightly nervous. They’d been texting back and forth a fair bit since he’d been away, and to have such a large gap between messages made him worry a little. He tried to dismiss the thought; she did have a life, after all. She wasn’t just waiting next door, hanging on his every message.

  ‘I’m going to grab a sandwich before I have to go to work,’ Sam called up the stairs. Aidan had vanished like smoke the minute he’d walked in the door. ‘Do you want one?’

  ‘No ta,’ Aidan replied. ‘I’ll get something later.’

  ‘OK.’

  Sam ate a hastily prepared cheese and pickle sarnie and then glanced at his watch. Norton Magna was twelve miles away, which was about a twenty-minute drive through the outlying villages on a clear day, so he just about had time to pop and see Florence before he left. Seeing her face would be enough to get him through an extended night shift, he was sure.

  Yelling a swift goodbye up the stairs to Aidan, who, from the sound of the running water, had taken himself off to the shower, Sam grabbed his keys and slammed the front door shut behind him. Vaulting over the wall, he knocked briskly on Florence’s front door.

  After a short pause, the door opened, and there she was. Her hair was tied back in its habitual ponytail, and she was wearing a striped jersey and jeans, feet tucked into Ugg boots.

  ‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘I, er, just wanted to see you before I start my shift. Is that OK?’

  Florence hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. ‘Sure.’ She shook her head apologetically. ‘Sorry,’ she continued. ‘Late night.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Sam raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Nothing to worry about,
I promise!’ Florence smiled at him. ‘I’ll tell you all about it later. Good trip to see your family?’

  ‘Interesting,’ Sam replied. ‘I’ll try to avoid telling you about that later.’

  ‘Everything OK?’ Florence asked.

  ‘I think so,’ Sam said. Aware of the time, he stepped closer to her and kissed her. It was a long, lingering meeting of mouths that reminded him just how much he’d missed her over the past couple of days. ‘I’m working all night, but I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Florence replied as she moved back from him. ‘We can catch up properly then.’

  Sam paused for a heartbeat, weighing up again whether or not to ask Florence to look in on Aidan later. Then he chided himself. Aidan was meeting Tom; there was no need to worry unnecessarily. He had to learn to pull back, to let go.

  ‘Penny for them!’ Florence laughed.

  ‘Sorry,’ Sam said. ‘Just wondering what this night shift’s going to be like. You never can tell at Christmas.’

  ‘I hope it’s a quiet one,’ Florence replied. She leaned upwards and brushed her lips to his once more. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home, even if it is the middle of the night.’

  ‘I will.’ Sam smiled at her as he turned and headed back down the path from her front door. He couldn’t wait for this shift to be over, so he could spend lunchtime, and whatever time after, in Florence’s arms.

  33

  Sam got to work in record time as the roads were so quiet on a chilly Boxing Day afternoon. The sky grew darker as the afternoon wore on, though, and the reports from the weather service warned of snow flurries heading in from the east. Snow was unusual in Somerset, but when it came it tended to come in hard. Sam kept checking in with the Met Office, as it was his duty to keep abreast of the changing weather, and it was his call if the air ambulance lifted or not.

  An initially laid-back afternoon briefing had given way to an hour to unwind and get his bearings, and for that Sam was glad. Haleh, Neil and Darren were all on duty with him this afternoon, and Sam was pleased to be working with his regular crew. Often it was the camaraderie during and after a job that got them through.

  ‘Hopefully everyone’s decided to stay put in front of the Christmas telly this afternoon,’ Neil said, as he sipped his second cup of post-lunch coffee.

  ‘Wouldn’t that be nice?’ Haleh joined them on the sofa in the lounge area. She was tucking into a turkey sandwich and, as Sam glanced at it, she offered him the other half. ‘Go on,’ she teased. ‘I’m only really eating it to help Mum out with the leftovers! We might be Muslim, but nothing stops us from celebrating the traditional Christmas way as far as food’s concerned!’

  ‘Thanks,’ Sam smiled back at her and took the sandwich. Breakfast in Cambridgeshire did seem an awfully long time ago, as did the lunchtime sandwich before he’d come to work. Of course, seeing Florence had helped, as the butterflies in his stomach had put paid to any hunger pangs, but now, with a long shift before him, he was glad of the sandwich. The long drive from his mother’s place had also taken a bit of a toll, so he hoped he’d have a little bit of time to relax before the inevitable calls came.

  As Haleh continued to chat about what sounded like a fabulous but hectic Christmas Day at home with her parents and brothers and sisters, Sam reflected on his own, somewhat more sedate affair. Even his three nephews had eventually conceded defeat and sprawled out in front of the TV, all of the family united in silent appreciation of the Doctor Who Christmas special. Sam had found his mind wandering back to Florence during the show, though, as she did bear more than a passing resemblance to the actress playing the current incarnation of the Doctor. Florence’s hair was a little longer, but she had the same gentle smile and slender frame.

  He gazed out of the windows that looked out across the airfield where the Norton Magna base was situated and started a bit to see that, even in the space of his conversation and sandwich with Haleh, the snow had started falling.

  ‘Oh wow!’ Haleh, following his line of sight, rushed to the window, where the sky was rapidly darkening, even though it was barely three thirty in the afternoon. ‘We’d better hope we don’t get any calls if that gets any heavier.’

  Sam stood up to stretch his legs and joined Haleh at the window. He didn’t like the look of the grey, heavy sky above. Ultimately, if the call came in, it would be his decision whether or not the team would respond to it. He’d have to check the weather reports carefully. Risking the lives of the crew was definitely not in his remit.

  As if echoing their thoughts, the phone rang. Neil, who was closest, picked it up.

  ‘Right. Right. Cheddar Gorge? Called in by a member of the public.’ He motioned to Sam, who’d crossed the room again and was quickly looking up the latest weather reports. Putting a hand over the receiver, he glanced at him. ‘It’s a hypothermia case,’ he began. ‘Passerby called it in, looks like a head injury, too. Young guy, thankfully no dog or anything. What do you think?’

  Sam looked up from the console. ‘The Gorge is about eight minutes from here. We’ve already got spots where we’ve landed before on both sides. Snow’s coming in, but if it’s a straightforward case we can do it as the weather stands.’

  ‘Sure?’

  Sam paused for a moment, weighing up the options; terrain, weather, the danger that things might change suddenly, and the context of the patient. There was a lot to consider, and he didn’t take a decision like this lightly. These processes were familiar to him, though, and he trusted himself and the team. He nodded. ‘Yes. I’m sure.’

  Neil confirmed the job and put the receiver back down.

  Haleh, Sam, Neil and Darren hurried down the steps from the crew room to the hangar, grabbing their helmets and a fresh foil blanket from the medical supply room on the way out. The helicopter was standing on the tarmac outside, and thankfully the snow hadn’t settled much as they headed out.

  ‘Brrrr!’ Darren rubbed his hands together as they got into the helicopter. ‘I wouldn’t fancy being out on the gorge in this. Some people have no sense, do they?’

  ‘The weather’s come in quickly, to be fair,’ Sam said. ‘He probably didn’t realise when he started how slippery it was going to be up there.’

  ‘Well, let’s get out there and bring him in as soon as we can,’ Neil said.

  As Sam began the pre-flight checks, with Neil calmly confirming by his side, he glanced at the weather updates. The snow was coming in fast. He didn’t like it, but it wasn’t bad enough to call off the flight. Looking at the projections, it wasn’t due to really close in until later that evening, so conditions were still acceptable to fly. The case seemed straightforward enough, providing the patient didn’t kick off. He hoped the guy would, if he was conscious, see sense and settle in for the flight.

  As the helicopter ascended, and the light began to deteriorate, Sam was glad that Cheddar Gorge wasn’t too far to go. It was one thing getting up into the air; it was quite another getting back down again. The gorge was relatively flat on top, but with the snow settling, he’d need to judge the landing carefully. A stray rock, covered with snow, could cause havoc.

  The minutes in the air between the two destinations ticked by as the crew prepared the equipment to treat the casualty.

  ‘Do we have road support?’ Sam asked as they neared the gorge.

  ‘Not this time,’ Neil replied. ‘If it’s a simple hypothermia case with a head injury, it’s best to get him in the air and across to Bristol’s Southmead Hospital rather than try to drag him down the Gorge. It’s the Jacob’s Ladder side and the team could easily lose their footing in conditions like this.’

  ‘Can we sedate him if we need to?’

  ‘Yup,’ Darren chipped in. ‘But hopefully that won’t be necessary.’

  Turning his mind away from the patient for the moment, Sam focused on the immediate challenge, which was going to be making a controlled landing on top of the gorge. It was at times like this that Sam r
ealised just how complex landing even a state-of-the art machine like the air ambulance could be, despite his hours of flying experience. He was used to landing in tricky conditions after years of flying Lynx helicopters onto flight decks of small ships, many of which ended up rolling, pitching or heaving in stormy conditions, but every landing needed his full attention, for the sake and safety of all on board. There was a good reason why the crew instigated a ‘no talking under two hundred feet’ rule when landing.

  Flying through the beginnings of the snowstorm, down at his minimum allowable height to ensure he maintained enough visual references on the ground, Sam was working hard and hoped that he was going to manage to set down safely.

  The crew were getting prepared to step out of the helicopter the moment it landed. Carrying with them the foil heat blanket, as well as their med kits, they were performing their final checks as Sam set down on the Jacob’s Ladder side of the gorge, about a hundred yards from the cliff edge. He was so finely tuned to the sensation of the helicopter landing, he even felt the crunch as the wheels impacted in the snow. Loose drifts scattered in flurries, caught by the breeze of the rotor.

  ‘OK, we’re good,’ Sam said as the rotor came to a standstill. He hoped that this would be a swift departure; he couldn’t guarantee a clean take-off if the wind kept picking up.

  Now the wait came. The temperature inside the cabin would cool quickly now everything had been shut down. Snow was crusting the windscreen already; he hoped they wouldn’t be stuck up here too long. He was in radio contact with the team, and as soon as they knew what the state of play was, they’d let him know. If the casualty was conscious and calm, so much the better.