Baby It's Cold Outside

‘I wonder if they’ll bring the snowplough up here,’ I said, mostly to myself. Douglas shrugged.

‘They should do,’ he said. ‘Bet they’re busy though.’

We trudged on in silence. I sneaked a few glances at Douglas as we walked. He was tall and thin and seemed to be taking great pleasure from our surroundings. He was breathing deeply and looking at the scenery in satisfaction. As we rounded a bend, there was a break in the trees and Claddach spread out beneath us. To our right the mountain – Ben Claddach – loomed above the road, its pine trees covered in snow and its tip wrapped in a cloud. At the bottom of the road was the town itself, barely visible because every roof was covered in snow, and the loch. Its water was normally inky black but today it was like the surface of a mirror. It was silvery grey and reflected the jagged, snowy tips of the hills close by.

It was hard work just keeping upright on the walk down the hill and I was soon out of breath, even though I was in pretty good shape. Douglas, I noticed, was barely breathing heavily. As we reached the foot of the hill I paused to loosen my scarf – the walk had left me feeling warm – and Douglas turned to look at me.

‘Oh god,’ I thought. ‘Please don’t tell me how much you love my mum.’

‘I really love your mother,’ Douglas said. I grimaced but he carried on regardless. ‘I don’t much care whether you like me or not, but I know us getting on would make Tess happy.’

I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t expected that. Douglas’s slightly fierce expression softened. ‘I also know how you’re feeling,’ he said. ‘My dad left before I was born so it was just Mum, my brother and me for a long time. Mum remarried when I was sixteen. I wasn’t exactly welcoming towards her husband.’

He grinned at me suddenly, looking much younger.

‘We get along great now,’ he said. ‘It’s only taken fifty years to iron out our differences.’

I gave him a cautious smile.

‘There’s a lot happening,’ I said. I didn’t want to say that he was the least of my worries, but that’s what I meant. ‘I’ll try.’

It was the most I could manage and I knew it wasn’t good enough, but Douglas seemed pleased. He gave me a brisk nod and we carried on into town. I loved Claddach anyway, but in the snow it was like something out of a fairytale. There was hardly traffic, so it was quiet and the thick snow muffled what little noise there was.

The single set of traffic lights on the road to the main town square changed silently from red to green and back again. The shops were open though – it would take more than a blizzard to shut Claddach – and there were people milling about. A band of riotous teenagers were ducking in and around the town hall steps where they normally all sat smoking sulkily, glaring at passers-by. They were chucking snowballs at each other and laughing uproariously. A group of women were clearing the area outside the shops, the shovels scraping on the pavement.

‘This is me,’ said Douglas. We were outside the funeral parlour. It had been here for years but I’d never paid much attention to it before. It had a large window of smoked glass, with floor-length vertical blinds. There was a discreet floral display in the window, being arranged by a woman about my own age. She had brown hair pulled back into a neat bun, and she was wearing a smart black suit and sensible court shoes.

‘That’s Kirsty, my niece,’ Douglas said. ‘Would you like to come in and meet her? I think you’ll get on.’

I looked at Kirsty, bustling through to the back of the shop in her bank manager outfit and thought I doubted that.

‘I’d love to,’ I said. I gestured vaguely behind myself. ‘But I have to go and do… stuff. Bye.’

I felt Douglas’s eyes on my back as I trudged through the snow across the square, towards Leona’s wedding dress shop. Snow started falling again, lightly, and I pulled my scarf round my neck once more. Leona’s shop was up a wee side street and for a moment I thought she wasn’t open. The snow outside the door was fresh and untouched. I stopped, biting my lip in concern, and then Leona came out from a narrow passageway, carrying two shovels and wearing an enormous furry hat.

‘Esme,’ she said with a wide grin as she saw me. She leaned the shovels up against the wall and gave me an awkward hug because both of us were wrapped in so many layers that it was like we were wearing fat suits.

‘I’ve just been clearing the car park,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a very special delivery coming this afternoon…’ she gave me a violent nudge, ‘… I don’t want the van not to make it.’

‘It’s dreadful isn’t it?’ I said, looking round at the thick snow. ‘But it’s going to look gorgeous in our photos.’

Leona sighed with happiness. ‘Let’s have a cup of tea,’ she said. ‘And you can tell me all about your plans.’

It seemed that despite providing dresses for every Claddach bride for the last twenty-five years, Leona never got bored of weddings. I peeled off my layers and we sat snugly in the shop, drinking tea as I filled Leona in on every tiny detail of the wedding from the favours to the ribbons round the chairs.

While I talked, Leona, who was a stylish woman in her fifties with a weakness for gossip and biscuits, went through her emails on her small, pink laptop.

‘Ah ha,’ she said, turning it round so I could see the screen. ‘This is the customs check – your dress has arrived at Aberdeen. It’s being loaded on to the van now and I should get it this afternoon.’

I felt a rush of excitement. This was really happening.

‘I hope the snow doesn’t hold things up,’ I said, getting up and walking to the window. It was snowing heavily again. Thick flakes dropping softly from the leaden sky.

‘Ach, it’ll be fine,’ Leona said. ‘They’ll have the snowploughs out. I’ve gritted the car park and I know the Housewives’ Guild were galvanising people to start shovelling in the town square. The snow is no match for Millicent Fry.’

I grinned. Millicent was one of Claddach’s characters. She and I hadn’t always seen eye to eye and I’d badly misjudged her when we’d first met. But now I recognised her for what she was – a force of nature who organised, cajoled, and bustled everyone and everything into willing submission. Leona was right. The snow didn’t stand a chance.

‘So I was thinking,’ Leona said. ‘Obviously I’m shut tomorrow as it’s Sunday, but as it’s you – how about we meet here in the afternoon and you can try on your dress?’

I squealed in delight and gave Leona a hug. Then I looked at my watch. It was nearly lunchtime, surely Jamie and Tansy had talked enough for one day? I wanted to get home and snuggle up with my lovely fiancé to go through any last-minute plans.

Chapter 6 (#ulink_bd9dd712-fb2e-56d2-a26c-47987b4132a0)

I said my goodbyes to Leona, layered up again, and trudged back out into the snow. I decided to go up to the main road straightaway, instead of through the square as it would be clearer – I thought – and easier to walk on. It meant a slightly longer walk, as first I had to leave town in the opposite direction to our house. Claddach nestled in between the main road on one side and the banks of the loch on the other. In one direction the main road led to the A9 and civilisation, and in the other it sloped up past our house and on up into the mountains. There were two roads in and out of the town itself – one on the side of Claddach closest to our house and one at the other side of town. Both of them came out on to the main road. Doug and I had walked into town the quicker way, using the ‘top’ road. But now I couldn’t face stomping through the snow in town and as Leona’s shop was closer to the main road the other way, that’s where I headed.

The road had been ploughed, though it was already covered in snow again, and like I’d hoped, it was slightly easier to walk on. I could look down on town from here and it was so beautiful – like an Alpine village with all the snowy roofs – that I pulled my phone out to take a photo of the town to show Jamie – and that’s when it happened. I heard it before I saw it, and looking back I felt it before I heard it. A deep rumble, that vibrated in my chest like the bass thump at a nightclub. I turned to look behind me, along the road. I could see a man and a woman – dressed similarly to me – tramping along, walking in the road as I was because the pavements hadn’t been cleared. And one car, a big 4x4, driving towards the town. I saw those things, and then suddenly I couldn’t see them any more. There was a roar, like rushing water, but louder and deeper, and the very ground beneath my feet shook. I shrieked as everything went white and snow flew all around me. I covered my ears and shielded my eyes and half ran, half staggered back the way I’d come. I’d barely gone two lurching steps though, when – disorientated and unable to see – I slipped and fell. It was like being in the middle of a blizzard. There was snow flying all around me, piling up over my legs. I tried to stand, but I couldn’t. All I could hear was my breathing and the roaring, crunching of the snow. I’d never realised something so soft could be so loud. Terrified, and completely confused about what was happening, I started to cry. And then, as suddenly as it had started, the roaring stopped. The snow began to settle around me and the air cleared.

I wiped my face with my gloved fingers, and looked round me. The scenery had changed completely. It was like the mountain had slid down on top of the road, but that was impossible, surely? My heart was thumping. Dazed, I staggered to my feet and looked back at the town, trying to get my bearings. Yes, the houses were to my left and the loch looked as it always looked. The mountain still stood to my right, but a huge swathe of snow had slid off it down on to the road, as though a giant hand had pushed it downwards. Where five minutes ago there had been the road and the two cars and the walkers, now there was a huge bank of snow. An avalanche, I guessed, though I’d only ever seen one in films before now.

‘Oh shit,’ I said, as I realised what had happened. ‘Oh shit, shit, shit, shit.’

Frantically I felt in my pocket for my phone but it wasn’t there. I’d been holding it in my hand when the avalanche started and now it was gone. I had to get help. I tried to get to my feet, but I fell forwards on to my knees.

‘Oof,’ I said. I was soaking wet, freezing cold and absolutely scared out of my wits. But I kept trying to stand, heart pounding and tears pouring down my cheeks. I was so shaky and battered that I couldn’t stay upright, I just kept slipping over. But I knew I had to try to stand up – the last thing I wanted was to stay slumped in the snow. After what seemed like forever but probably wasn’t long, I heard voices, and to my utter relief a hand reached out and pulled me upright.

‘It’s okay, sweetheart,’ my rescuer said. ‘It’s okay now.’

I was half sobbing, half laughing as I looked at him. He was part of the Mountain Rescue Team, wearing a thick fluorescent orange jacket and a hard hat.

‘She’s okay,’ he shouted to his colleagues, who were spilling out of a truck with big caterpillar tracks on its wheels, further along the road away from the snow slip, towards Mum’s house. ‘There’s an ambulance on its way. They can check you out.’ He draped a blanket round my shoulders and I gripped it in gratitude.

‘I’m fine,’ I said, shivering violently. ‘I’m not hurt. I’m just a bit battered and a bit cold.’ The other mountain rescuers reached us – about five or six in all – and they all stood silently to one side and looked at where the mountain had slid down on to the road.

‘It’s not stable,’ one of them said. ‘We need to clear the area and seal it off until we can assess what’s happening up there.’

They started talking about sending up the helicopter and suddenly my mind cleared and I remembered what I’d seen just before the avalanche.

‘There are people in there,’ I said. No one heard me. I stumbled over to the group, waving my arms under the blanket.

‘There are people,’ I yelled. ‘Under there. Two walkers and a car with passengers in it. We need to get them out.’

‘Woah,’ said my rescuer, who had the name Willie on his jacket. He was a bit older than most of the team and seemed to be in charge.

‘Slow down. We need more equipment, and until we get the dogs up here we can’t possibly know where the people are under that lot.’ He nodded at the huge mound of snow then looked straight at me. ‘I think this is going to be a recovery operation now,’ he said in a gentle tone. ‘Not rescue.’

‘No,’ I said hoarsely. ‘No. I know where they are.’

The mountain rescuers all looked at me blankly.