Snow Kills (3 page)

‘You in there Kay? It’s Donny. No mistaking your car, love,’ he said. Her heart missed a beat, but she sighed with relief. She opened the window a little, but the strong smell of whisky on his breath hit her. She could see a young lad behind him, who took a quick swig out of a bottle and grimaced before passing it back over Donny’s shoulder.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she said through clenched teeth.

‘Had to abandon the scooter in town,’ he said, shouting against the wind.

‘Yes, I saw it.’

‘Come with us, we’ll see you get home, won’t we mate?’ he added.

‘I’d rather stick pins in my eyes,’ she said quietly. ‘Go away.’

‘What did you say?’ he yelled, bending down closer.

‘I’ll chance my luck in my nice warm car, thank you,’ she smiled sweetly.

‘Whatever,’ he said, swaying in the wind. ‘Is that all men could say, whatever?’ she fumed, reaching to wind the window up. She heard what sounded like a man’s gruff warning bellow in the distance and Donny shrugged his shoulders at her. ‘Fuck off!’ he called over his shoulder. His friend scarpered.

‘Are you lonesome tonight...’ she heard Donny singing at the top of his voice as he wandered off into the night laughing like a hyena, oblivious to the cold in his drunken state.

The radio presenter reiterated the advice to motorists to stay in their cars. It was as though he was warning her personally, so isolated did she feel. Her fuel gauge was into the red and her phone beeped low battery for the final time. She fumbled with it in her lap, but the battery was dead. Mindful of her predicament, she steered her car into the side of the road and it slid sideways and jolted to a standstill, into the kerb. She turned off the ignition and sighed heavily.

Inside, the car was almost pitch-black. It was heavily blanketed by snow that was getting thicker by the minute. All was silent. Kayleigh flicked on the internal light and scrabbled in her handbag for something to eat, anything, she was starving. ‘Ginger Dunkers,’ she said, peeling off the wrapper frenziedly and biting into the grainy biscuit. ‘Thank you Mavis.’ As she watched the snow continue to build, a wave of sheer panic washed over her. Kayleigh opened the window and gulped a breath of fresh air. She rattled the door, trying to open it more than the few inches the snow would allow. She wanted to run, to escape, to be free from this nightmare. Her heart beat so rapidly she thought it would never again be steady. She closed the window to keep out the cold, closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. Time passed and she felt as if she was going to die, but then the panic began to subside. She looked again at her watch – she was alone, and now she was beginning to feel very frightened too.

Kayleigh tried to settle in her seat. . Leaning against the door, she turned the radio on low and closed her eyes. Surely sleep would come and blot out this night? Resting her head against the window, she could hear the slightest tapping, so soft that she turned the radio off and sat up. Holding her breath, she listened again, counting the seconds. There was no further sound, but she could sense a presence nearby. Kayleigh shook uncontrollably on seeing a shadowy figure through the snow mottled window. When would the guy take no for an answer? She swallowed hard, but to her horror the tapping increased to a knock, then, when she didn’t respond, it became more of a thud. She leant away from the door, listening, looking, her muscles tense, her wits alert. Her hands were in fists and her shoulders hunched. She was trapped, snared like an animal. Her mouth was dry as she gasped for breath. Her legs jumped. The knocking came in pulses, getting louder and louder. Scissors, scissors, where were her scissors? She knew it was only a matter of time before he smashed the window.

‘Like a cuppa? What about a biscuit, love? I bet you’re famished.’ Kayleigh heard a man’s voice against the billowing wind. She wound the car window down as far as it would go, but it still only gave her a post box sized view of the outside world. The Good Samaritan moved closer. ‘I saw the light in your car flicker, so I knew someone was inside,’ he said. Breathless, and with her hand to her chest, Kayleigh let her head drop back on the headrest. She closed her eyes as she tried to compose herself. She felt dizzy and nauseous. A dog barked and she looked out but couldn’t see it. Did she want a drink and a biscuit? Was the pope a Catholic? she thought to herself, happy to see anyone other than the drunken pair outside. The cold night air and snowflakes that blew in onto her face were welcome. The old man, eye sockets dark and hollow, held out a steaming white tin mug. He grinned, an almost toothless smile.

‘Sorry,’ she said, trying to open the door. ‘The window won’t open any further either...’ The interior light burst into life. The man bent down and leant into her car. She blinked as her eyes reacted to the unaccustomed brightness and she saw him reach into his pocket and retrieve a much coveted Kit Kat.

‘What a mess, I live in a cottage down the road, the one with the carriage lamp. See, down yonder? Can I get you anything?’

‘No thanks mister, I’ll be fine,’ Kayleigh said. ‘It’s very kind of you.’ Her hands were still shaking. ‘You don’t happen to know a Mavis Beanland though, do you?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Known her for years, she lives down there.’

‘Oh,’ she said, with a downcast look. ‘She’s a client, a friend of mine. If only she was home.’

‘Been watching the cars out here for hours in this horrible weather and thought if there was anyone in them they must be frozen by now.’

Kayleigh looked up. He was wearing a balaclava, which only showed a little of the front of his pinched, frail face, which was wet and weatherworn. His nose was red and cheeks were grey, he looked cold.

‘On your own?’

Kayleigh nodded.

‘Warm enough?’

She hesitated then, nodded again.

‘Sure?’ he said.

Kayleigh shuffled in her seat and pulled her little fur jacket around her tight. ‘I’ll be fine, thanks,’ she said, gulping down what remained of the tepid beverage. He took the empty mug from her. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘Think on. If you need anything, don’t stick fast,’ he said, ‘you’re welcome to come back to our house.’

‘That’s very kind of you, I’ll bear it in mind, but for the time being I think I’ll sit tight, thanks. Who knows with the snow ploughs and gritters out, I might get to my boyfriend’s after all,’ she said half-heartedly.

‘He’s a lucky lad,’ he said, as he left. ‘Tarra for now.’

Kayleigh locked the car door. Her seat was damp with the sleet that had sneaked in and the car felt dark and twice as lonely now her visitor had gone. She tore off the biscuit wrapper and peeled the thin tin foil from the two fingers. Kit Kats had been her Dad’s favourites. When she was little, they used to race to see who could eat the chocolate off first before eating the wafer underneath. She smiled at the thought as she nibbled at the now chocolate-free wafers. In among the tunes being played on the radio, the broadcaster continued praising people for doing just what the elderly man had done for her. ‘Local heroes,’ he was calling them. Then he asked, ‘Why do we only seem to help our fellow man in adversity, and at any other time we are too busy to even acknowledge each other?’ Kayleigh nodded in agreement. It was true. At least now she knew she had an alternative place to go if she felt the need. And he knew Mavis, it somehow eased her mind.

She was refreshed after the nourishment but felt tired and irritable. A friendly face and a warm house were becoming more appealing by the minute. Maybe she could just wait at their house until morning and then try to get home?

She leaned forward, screwed up her eyes and tried to see anything in the darkness outside. The wind had created snowdrifts like big sand dunes against her car. She switched the windscreen wipers on, but in seconds the windscreen was covered in snow again and again. The interior of her car was beginning to feel more and more like a tomb.

She picked up her mobile and growled at the black screen before flinging it onto the floor. ‘Thanks a bunch for nothing,’ she said. A suffocating feeling of panic rose within her. Swiftly she turned up the radio, ‘White Wednesday,’ the presenter was saying, and he promised to play music to ‘soothe the nerves’. She felt nauseous again, hot and anxious. She had to get out! She closed her eyes and controlled her breathing, and must have drifted off to sleep. When Kayleigh awoke, the radio was announcing the news at ten. Her hands felt wet and clammy, her mouth dry. She could just about see through one side window – the snow was still falling. She switched on the engine and turned on the wipers, but they were useless against the weight of snow that had built up upon the windscreen and just made a dragging, droning noise. She wound her window down slightly to peer out, and a portion of snow fell into her lap. Even in the darkness, she could see the snow had got considerably deeper. Her door wouldn’t open at all now and once again panic set in. She really had to get out. Sliding to the passenger seat enabled her to open the door, was it enough to squeeze out? There was no way was she going to be driving anywhere soon and she didn’t relish sitting in the car alone all night. Worried that she would be trapped if she stayed there any longer, Kayleigh grabbed her bag to flee. But getting out of the car was no mean feat; she clawed the snow with her bare hands and managed to open the car door wide enough to allow her to alight, albeit with great difficulty.

Stumbling out of the vehicle her legs felt like jelly, and climbing up on the snow drift to shut the door she fell awkwardly onto the top of the door. The pressure on her chest winded her. She turned with difficulty and locked the car door, rubbing her chest frantically. Darn it, no doubt she’d have a bruise there tomorrow. What on earth was she going to look like? The wind took her breath away. ‘You can do it, it’s not far,’ she said, gasping for breath. She put her head down and strode out as best she could. Her feet, that had dried enough to feel only slightly damp, were quickly sodden again as snow came over the top of her boots and melted against the warmth of her legs. Within a few yards the pain of the cold was fierce, but all she could think about was the promise of sanctuary.

Eventually, she saw a snow laden roof and central chimney-stack that billowed smoke. She reached the gate, looked over the snow packed thorn hedge and slid the bolt. A carriage lamp was lit on the outside wall next to the lattice window of the porch. The path had been cleared and grit had been spread on the flagstones. She walked up to the door and saw icicles hung from the gutter. Keyleigh rapped on the door. She turned, rubbed her hands together, blew on them to warm them and looked about her, but she was surrounded by flake-filled air, which didn’t allow her to see beyond a few feet back into the garden. Beyond the house she barely made out a building, a garage or a shed perhaps. She waited, but there was no answer. She tried the handle. The porch door was open so she let herself in. She knocked on the interior door, but still no one answered. She tried the handle and again it was open.

‘Hello,’ she called. ‘Hello, is there anyone there?’

She could hear a shuffling noise from within. The hallway was lit by a shadeless bulb hanging from the ceiling. Unaccustomed to the brightness, Kayleigh screwed up her eyes. She could hear a dog woofing and after a few seconds she saw an old lady with irons on her legs making her way down the darkened corridor towards her. ‘Tess,’ she said, ‘for goodness sake gal, give it a rest won’t you? Come on lass, in from the cold,’ she said, wiping her very red nose with a handkerchief and stuffing it in her apron pocket. Kayleigh stepped over the threshold into the warmth of the stranger’s home.

‘I am so sorry to bother you. I think I might have the wrong house. A man came to my car with a warm drink and said to come up here if I needed anything. I thought this might be his...’

‘That’d have been Norris. Come in, I’m pleased to see you,’ she said in a rasping voice, as though she had been suffering with a heavy cold. She coughed and Kayleigh had to smother a laugh as the old lady caught her false teeth in her hanky before pushing them back into place in her mouth. She ushered her visitor inside, and as she did so Kayleigh took stock of the bland looking woman with a curious waxy pallor and bright red rosy cheeks who had a hole in her slipper where her big toe peeped through. Deep furrows ran from her nose to the angles of her mouth and an ill-fitting wig was cocked to one side of her head. Crossing the hall, the woman opened the door and walked in to a room, beckoning Kayleigh to follow.

Kayleigh’s first impression was of warmth and shadows. Tess greeted her with a wagging tail and eager old eyes.

‘Down.’ the old lady commanded in a tone which made Kayleigh jump and the dog drop instantly to the wooden floor with a thump. Kayleigh bent to stroke the animal. ‘Oh, no, don’t, she’s fine,’ she said. ‘Bless her. I bet she, nor you, expected visitors at this time of night.’

‘I’m always glad of visitors. Come on in front of the fire and warm youself,’ she said. ‘I’ll get you a towel.’

‘The man, Norris, said my friend Mavis Beanland lived near. Maybe you know her?’ Kayleigh called after her, but her words had fallen on deaf ears.

Well at least there was one thing – now she had made the decision to find shelter, she wasn’t going to be a victim to the weather any more.

The humidity in the lounge reminded Kayleigh of walking into a sauna at her gym when someone had just thrown water over the coals. She perched precariously on the corner of the settee and loosened her clothing. Cushions, books and a pipe lay about and the place seemed absent of any feminine fuss. The musty smell of the cottage made her think of a recent visit to Sibden Hall, with the aroma of medical ointment. Kayleigh stood and stared into dancing flames of the roaring wood fire, mesmerised. The deep, penetrating heat and crackling roar soothed her and on feeling her face burning she sat back down and sank into the velvet cushion of the suite. She drew in her legs to sit up straight. The whole room told of a man’s world and as she turned to the shelf next to her she read the titles of books of culture and travel. It reminded her of her grandparent’s ‘best room’, dated and worn but homely. Tess was now contentedly stretched out in front of the tiled hearth. Kayleigh wondered where Norris was, as he must have just knocked his pipe out on the hearth, the red ash had fallen and was still smouldering there. Looking down at the dog in the firelight, she could see her coat was matted and patchy and as she yawned Kayleigh saw signs of ageing in her almost toothless mouth; reminding her of the dog’s owner. Kayleigh regarded her surroundings, lit only by the fire and an old standard lamp in the back corner near the dresser and heard a faint ring as if a phone had just been put on a receiver.