Snow Kills (4 page)

It was a while before her host returned. ‘Too hot for you?’ the old lady said, handing her a threadbare, large old discoloured towel that smelt of mildew. Kayleigh shook her head and smiled into the firelight. ‘No, it’s lovely, thank you.’

 ‘Brandy, it’ll warm you,’ the old woman said, thrusting a rose coloured plastic tumbler into her hand. Kayleigh sipped from it, screwing up her nose as she did so. ‘Whoa,’ she said, coughing fitfully. If age told the strength of the liquor, then this was as old as the lady offering it. Unspeaking, the woman pointed to Kayleigh’s boots and she stood and watched Kayleigh slip them off her feet. She wished she had a change of footwear and once again Mavis’s words of wisdom came back to haunt her. She lifted her head and caught the old lady giving her a hard stare.

‘You know my friend, Mavis Beanland?’ Kayleigh asked.

‘Yes, I do,’ she said.

‘Maybe you could get word to her I’m here? She might have got to her sister’s, but she might not.’

‘Not tonight my girl, it’s far too late. Tomorrow?’ she said more kindly.

Kayleigh nodded and stared at the fire before looking back up at the old woman. ‘Do you have a telephone that I could use please? So that I can let my mum and Matt know I’m okay,’ she asked. ‘They’ll be worried,’ she added as a way of explanation to the blank response as she rubbed her feet with the towel.

‘I thought the same but the lines are down, I’ve just checked,’ the woman said, rolling her eyes before turning unsteadily in her leg irons and disappearing out of the room with Kayleigh’s boots. ‘I’ll get these dried by the Aga in the kitchen,’ she called in her wake.

The house was quiet and still except for the occasional log crackling on the fire. Kayleigh couldn’t hear a radio or see a television. Time passed and there was no sign of the old woman or Norris. All there was to do was gaze into the fire. She felt sleepy. Just as she was about to lay her head on the arm of the sofa and close her eyes, the old man who had come to her aid hobbled into the room carrying a plate in his hand and a bottle under his arm. He wore a big baggy jumper with thick cord trousers. Kayleigh smiled and stood to greet him.

‘Now then lass. You must be famished,’ he said, cheerily.

‘Norris! That’s very kind of you,’ she said. ‘I really don’t want to be nuisance. I’m just so grateful to you and your...,’ said Kayleigh.

‘Nelly,’ Norris said, pushing the plate towards her. The firelight caught his perspiring brow and as he bent down Kayleigh could see that he too was wearing a wig – and not a very good one at that. ‘Do you want some cake?,’ he said, with a smile. ‘It’s homemade’ He pointed to Kayleigh’s glass. She held it out and he filled it to the brim. ‘I’ll get you a blanket, then you best settle down for the night.’

Kayleigh stared at him with gritty eyes. ‘That’s very kind,’ she said eventually, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the predicament she found herself in and the peculiar couple she had unwittingly come across.

Kayleigh hadn’t realised just hungry she was until she looked down at the thick slab of the Yorkshire gingerbread. She picked it up with both hands and took a huge bite. ‘Urgh!’ she said, choking. ‘What on earth?’ she said spitting the contents of her mouth out onto her hand. It tasted of nothing but fat and salt and there was a whole egg baked in the middle. She picked up her glass and drank quickly in an attempt to wash away the flavour. The drink was sharp, strong and hit the back of her throat. It reminded her of the first time Matt had introduced her to tequila shots. He told her to lick the salt from the back of her hand and throw the drink to the back of her throat. She had been very quickly wasted that night and he had to carry her home. No time to reminisce, she told herself, shaking her head to clear the fog inside. She looked around. The dog lifted its head. Should she give the rest of it to her or throw it on the back of the fire?

The food hissed and sizzled. The old man hobbled back into the room and put a brown blanket at her side before going directly to the fire and poking it aimlessly. ‘That’ll help burn it,’ he said.

‘Oh no,’ she groaned. He turned to look at her and she felt her face flush crimson. She grimaced. Whether he noticed the burning food or not he didn’t say, but he threw a large log on the fire that caused smoke to billow back into the room.

‘That should keep you warm. A log of cedar will burn ’til the morning. Happen the weather will have ’baited by then. Is there anything else I can get you before I turn in?’

‘Perhaps I could use your bathroom?’ she said, tentatively.

‘Follow me,’ he said. ‘It’s down the hallway,’ Kayleigh followed him down the dimly lit narrow hallway in the direction he pointed, running her hand on the embossed wallpaper. Feeling disorientated. she had to swerve to miss the old fashioned phone that featured on the wall and in doing so grabbed the lead that dangled aimlessly to the floor. Guess there was no point in it being plugged in if it wasn’t working, she thought.

‘It’s to your right,’ the old man said. Luckily, there was a handrail along the wall. Gratefully, she held it as she passed the old man. Shyly she looked down at the floor and at the hole in his slipper where his toe peeped through. She couldn’t help but smile to herself.

‘You’ll find your way back?’ he said.

She nodded. ‘Night,’ she said, ‘and ... and thanks for everything.’

Norris grunted.

Stepping into the toilet, she closed the door behind her. The room was so cold she looked around for a gap in the wall to the outside. There was no lock. She could hear creaking floorboards outside. Was he still there? No, she had watched too many films with Matt, that was her trouble.

The room was so small that she was able to sit on the toilet and place her foot against the door. The door was made up of large random width vertical planks, she noted. Flushing the toilet, the cistern made enough noise to disturb the dead. ‘Damn it,’ she said as her sleeve caught on the head-high chain. She yanked her arm free. Opening the door to the dimly lit corridor and seeing the coast was clear, she tiptoed back to the lounge and closed the door behind her, before taking her place again on the sofa in front of the fire. Finishing the drink she had been given, she sighed. ‘Waste not, want not,’ she said, raising her glass to Tess, and pulled the blanket up under her armpits. If the brandy made her sleep, then sooner it would be morning and she could be on her way. Her eyes were heavy in minutes and she snuggled up, turned and looked into the flames of the fire that were faintly soothing. Funny how other people lived, wasn’t it?

Kayleigh lay soundless and as her limbs relaxed, her eyes began to close and she felt her shoulders droop. She heard Tess get to her feet and walk towards her, and Kayleigh looked directly into her wide, dark eyes. Tess paused for a few moments as if waiting for permission before jumping up to sit upright in Kayleigh’s curves. The touch of the dog’s tongue on her hand was comforting and she stroked the animal’s head and rubbed the back of her ears, whispering soothingly. Tess circled and pawed the blanket before moaning and lying as close to Kayleigh as she could get, setting down eventually with a big sigh. Kayleigh placed an arm around her and gave her a fleeting hug and in turn the dog put up her muzzle and licked under her chin, groaning again. Suddenly, the dog’s ears flew up and her head was erect and alert. There was an almighty thud. Kayleigh sat bolt upright.

‘What the hell was that?’ she said out loud. Tess growled, then flew off the sofa and under the table whimpering loudly.

‘Hello, who’s there?’ she called, pulling the blanket up tightly to her face. Was it the wind? No, the motive force was human.

 At the opening of the door, Kayleigh let rip a piercing scream.

The snow continued to fall from dense, heavy clouds, quite unlike any snow Harrowfield had seen in years. Telephone wires were torn down by the weight of the ice and snow fall. Pipes were frozen and public transport was at a standstill. The weather forecasters were warning of more severe weather before there was a thaw. Children and grown-ups alike spent dawn ’til dusk sledding down the snow covered steep hills Yorkshire is known for, and within days normality started to resume. The main routes were the first to be passable with care. The majority of white snow, on the main roads, turned hour by hour to a dirty black slush. The gritters’ work wasn’t done, as they continued to spread sand and rock salt to keep the ice at bay at night and remove the heaps of solid snow with their ploughs during the day.

Marlene had been trying to contact Kayleigh all morning via her mobile phone and in frustration rang the landline at her home. The shop had been closed long enough. The phone was answered immediately. ‘Hello,’ said a hesitant voice.

‘Kim, its Marlene, how are you? ’ she said brightly.

‘Oh, I’m alright. Better than the weather. Worst we’ve had for twenty years, or so they’re saying on the news.’

‘Yeah, and the Council still doesn’t deal with it any better, do they? There has been as much disruption now as there was back then, if my memory serves me right. The reason why I’m ringing is to let Kayleigh know that I’m opening the salon tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll be just as glad to get back to work as me.’

‘Well, I’ll tell her when I speak to her, but to be honest you’re the first person to get through on this line for a week. I’d almost forgotten what the sound of the phone ringing was like; it’s been as dead as a doornail since the afternoon of the heavy snowfall and I haven’t heard a peep from our Kayleigh since she left a message on the answering machine to say she was heading to Matt’s. I’ll try and get hold of her now and pass your message on.’

‘Her mobile’s dead, that’s why I rang you,’ replied Marlene.

‘Oh dear, her battery is probably flat by now. Matt hasn’t a landline, I haven’t a mobile. What’re we like?’ Kim paused for a moment and stroked her chin, deep in thought. ‘I’ll see if I can find Matt’s number and give him a ring,’ she said.

Putting the phone on its cradle, Kim Harwood headed up the stairs to Kayleigh’s bedroom and set about searching for her address book. Eventually, after fumbling under the sweet papers, fashion magazines and used post it notes, she found it in her bedside cabinet. There was no reference to his phone number under ‘M’ for Matt or ‘P’ for Prentice, so sitting down on her daughter’s bed she started at the beginning and patiently fingered through the book systematically. ‘B for boyfriend,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I should have known that of our Kayleigh.’

It took a few rings before the phone was answered. Matt’s voice caught in his throat and the words that came out were a croak. ‘Hell ... o?’

‘Matt, is that you?’ said Kim. ‘You sound terrible. Don’t bother speaking, just put our Kayleigh on, will you?’

‘Sor ...ry? Kay ... leigh’s not here. I haven’t seen or heard from her since last Wednesday.’ Matt said before he sneezed loudly.

Kim’s heart leapt into her mouth. She sat down on the nearest chair and cleared her throat. ‘You haven’t heard from her?’ Kim felt her stomach clench. ‘Where is she then?’ she faltered. ‘I thought she was with you,’ she said, her voice rising.

‘I thought she was at home,’ he said, straining his voice.

‘Last time she texted me, she said she was stuck on the Manchester Road,’ Matt said.

‘Oh my God, I’m calling the police. What’s happened to her? We need to find her. I’ll come pick you up. We’ll go to Manchester Road,’ said Kim, slamming the phone down before he could answer.

Kim Harwood made a 999 call in a fever of impatience. She gazed around the room at the pictures of Kayleigh and, snatching a photograph off the sideboard, she held it tight. Unchecked tears rolled down her cheeks and she found it hard to talk when the telephone was answered at the other end. ‘It’s Kayleigh, my daughter,’ she said. ‘She’s missing.’

 The person taking the details asked her what seemed to Kim to be pointless questions. ‘Just find her. You’ve got to find her,’ she said hysterically.

‘Mrs Harwood,’ said the operator with an air of impatience. ‘Please try and calm yourself. If you could cooperate by getting your daughter’s relevant motor documents for us and ring back on the non-emergency number 0845 6060606 when you are in possession of them, that would be very useful. This line is for emergencies only.’

‘But, this is an emergency. Wait there, I’ll go get them.’

‘No please, ring back on the number I gave you when you have them to hand,’ said the woman firmly, before abruptly ending their conversation.

Kim listened to the dialling tone in astonishment. She took a deep breath as she felt panic surge within her. Her legs shook as she stumbled up the steps, and with fumbling hands she rummaged through her daughter’s drawer once more. Once the details were in her grasp, she picked up the phone and with trembling fingers dialled the number she had been given.

‘How many pink Kas can there be?’ she screamed at the operator.

‘The car’s registration number please, Mrs Harwood?’ the police civilian staff member said calmly.

‘S241 AWW. Can you just get someone to check Manchester Road please? That was the last place we believe she was.’

This time the person at the other end of the phone was more sympathetic and tried to reassure her that Police 4x4 vehicles had patrolled the area, especially the main routes along with the AA, to ensure people were not stranded in their cars for excessive periods. ‘It highly unlikely that your daughter is still in the car, but in a place of safety,’ he said. ‘Many shelters are still open. I’ll send out a message now to all patrol cars to check in the vicinity of Manchester Road for you and locate her vehicle if it’s there. Try not to worry.’

Kim shuddered as goose bumps rose all over her body.

‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come into the police station, Mrs Harwood, to file a missing person report for your daughter. It would be really helpful if you could bring along an up-to-date photograph of Kayleigh too.’

Kim silently nodded as she searched the face of her daughter on her driving licence. ‘Where are you?’ she whispered.