Chapter 23
She’d made it to the sofa and lifted her painful ankle so that it rested along its length. She wasn’t entirely sure how this was meant to help an injury, but she’d seen it happen on countless hospital dramas. Elevation was important. Besides, it felt comfier.
After some careful examination she’d concluded that it wasn’t broken – or at least she didn’t think so.
It throbbed, but the pain was easing. The room was slightly in shadow, despite the fact it was still quite early in the morning.
The dark clouds outside were refusing to budge and although the snow on the ground was fresh and white, the sun’s rays couldn’t make it through the clouds to illuminate it.
Harriet’s message had read Getting a taxi home. And she hadn’t been able to reply or ask whether it was just her sister or all of the family who’d been discharged, due to the fact that her phone was a mass of cracks.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi, I got your message. I just…’ She looked at her ankle. She could hardly tell Harriet that she’d fallen down the stairs and was trapped in a house without power, could she? It would only make her sister worry and there really wasn’t anything she could do. ‘I dropped my phone.’
‘Oh no, nightmare! Is it completely ruined?’
‘Yeah, afraid so.’ She tried to inject her words with an upbeat tone. ‘But, well, I’m still connected, as you can see.’
‘The wonders of technology.’
‘Exactly. Anyway, so you’re all OK? Dad too?’
‘Yeah. I think just a little shell-shocked. Mum’s got one of those support bandages on her wrist, but there’s nothing much wrong. We were lucky, apparently.’
Lucky. The word made Nicola shiver. The idea that her whole family had been in an accident that could have been a lot worse was terrifying.
Yes, it was the sort of thing that happened to people every day.
But not to her people, her family. It’s amazing any of us reach old age unscathed, she thought.
But we carry on anyway, because the alternative is just living in constant fear.
‘I am so, so glad.’
‘And I’m sorry about Christmas, I—’
‘Are you insane? Don’t be sorry. It doesn’t matter. Honestly. It really doesn’t. All that matters is that you guys are OK.’
‘You won’t say that when you’re forced to eat a Christmas dinner for four all by yourself.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I’ve always loved a challenge.’
They both laughed. The kind of humour that comes out after a shock. Relief and mild amusement blending together to make a funny quip into something altogether more hilarious. But when it faded away, Nicola felt tears well in her eyes again.
‘I feel so awful. You were coming to visit me.’
‘Well, that’s just stupid. We were still in Hatfield. Nowhere near France,’ her sister told her firmly.
‘I know, but… I made such a fuss about Christmas!’
‘Enough, sis. You invited us, is all. And we wanted to come. Hell, I’m disappointed, and I know Mum was looking forward to a white Christmas with you. All that snow angel making and snowball throwing…’
‘Thanks.’ But her word came out as more of a gulp.
‘Nic, you’re crying. It’s OK. We’re fine. And it wasn’t your fault. If anything, it’s Dad’s. He was meant to get the tyres checked and it turns out he didn’t. Don’t say anything to him, obviously, but…’
‘It’s not that. It’s just…’ She looked at her swollen ankle again, at the dark room devoid of electric light. At the battery icon on her laptop which now read 20 per cent. ‘It’s Steven,’ she said finally.
‘Steve? What’s he done?’
She told her sister about the phone call. About the fact that Steven wasn’t where he was meant to be. About the woman who’d answered the phone and become evasive.
‘You don’t think he’s having an affair?’
‘Well, what other explanation could there be?’
Harriet was briefly silent. ‘Well, I get it. Honestly. Because if this were a film or something he’d definitely be cheating. But this is Steven. He’s absolutely devoted to you. I don’t see it.’
‘I don’t know. Recently he’s just seemed so distant.’
‘That’s because you guys live like ten hours apart.’
‘I meant emotionally, obviously.’
‘I know you did. I wasn’t making a joke.
I mean, long-distance relationships are tough.
Everyone knows that. And it’s the longest you’ve been apart in forever.
It’s not surprising both of you are feeling the strain a bit.
But I don’t think it’s enough to have driven Steven to do something like that.
He’s not the type. Anyway, what sort of mistress would be stupid enough to answer the phone to his wife? And speak to her like that?’
She knew, really, that Harriet was right. But the call just kept going around in her head. Even if Steven wasn’t having an affair, he was definitely lying to her. And that was bad enough all on its own.
‘I know, but if he’s not doing anything wrong, then why has he been lying to me, Harriet? That’s not like him either. And he’s been so odd, so distant.’
‘Maybe he’s just really busy, really stressed.’
‘Yeah, maybe. But… I just don’t know, Harriet.
I really don’t.’ Her breath shuddered out as the enormity of what might be happening hit her.
Steven, the guy she’d loved for a decade, been married to for eight years.
Who was meant to love her for better or worse.
‘And I tried to come home – mainly for you guys of course. Mum and Dad and you. I wanted to… well, when someone you love is in an accident, you just want to be there. But also maybe to see Steven, to talk to him for myself. But I can’t get home.
Not till after Christmas at least. So I’m stuck here.
’ She glanced out of the window again to the snow-covered garden.
Cars were moving occasionally along the road, but slowly, carefully, their lights on full.
Santa and his reindeer were on, and prancing on the front lawn; it felt a little as if they were mocking her.
And the angel, who’d promised luck and love in her life, looked over it all.
If her ankle hadn’t been killing her, she may well have gone over and thrown it across the room.
‘Oh, Nic.’
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have laid all this on you now…’
‘Are you joking? Of course you should. Do you know how annoyed I’d be if I found out you’d kept something like this from me?’
Nicola tried not to look at her ankle, the dark room, the empty grate. To ignore the cold that was already creeping into her bones. ‘I suppose.’
‘OK, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to get in a taxi and go to Stu’s flat – Steven’s still staying there, right? And if he’s not there, I’ll go to the hospital. I’m going to find him and I’m going to find out exactly what’s going on, OK?’
She wanted to say no. That Harriet should rest, think of herself. But the desire to know what was going on with Steven overrode it all. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Damn right I’m sure. It’ll give me something to do to take my mind off… earlier.’
‘OK,’ she said. ‘But just… I don’t know. Be careful.’
‘Why do you think I’m taking a taxi? Which you’re paying for by the way.’
‘Of course.’
‘Right. Detective Harriet reporting for duty,’ her sister said.
Harriet always seemed to be able to wrestle an upbeat attitude even in the worst situations. And even in her current sorry state, Nicola found herself smiling, just a little.
Then the laptop cut out and she realised that until the power came back on, it didn’t matter what her sister discovered, she wouldn’t be able to report back to her at all.
She pulled a blanket off the back of the sofa and lay it over her.
Hopefully they’d sort the power out soon – she’d had one or two cut-outs in the past few months, but usually things were restored quite quickly.
It had something to do with the number of trees; their branches determined, it seemed, to fall on power lines at any given moment, apparently.
But they were well used to coming out and getting things up and running again. In a rural community, it was essential.
Gabi trotted into the room, skittering slightly on the floor as she passed a bauble that had fallen from the tree, as if it were a predator out to get her.
Nicola patted her lap. ‘Come here, Gabi. Good girl.’
But Gabi looked at her and seemed to think better of the idea. She trotted past, her nose in the air, and disappeared around the edge of the door.
‘Well, that’s just charming,’ Nicola called after her.
She was still cold. She looked at the basket where she usually stored the kindling. She’d earmarked today to fill it up, chop some wood, stack logs by the fireplace in readiness for a warm and cosy Christmas. But for now, it was completely empty.
Sitting around feeling sorry for herself for being alone, powerless and without power, probably wasn’t a good idea emotionally or physically.
If the power cut did endure, she’d be freezing soon.
She sat up and swung her legs to the floor, looking at her bad ankle uncertainly.
Then pulled herself to her feet. A tentative attempt to put weight on her dodgy joint confirmed that this was Not a Good Idea.
Pain shot through it and she nearly toppled over again.
But she could hop. She’d grab something to lean on from the barn. She just had to make it there, grab a bit of kindling, get some sort of fire going in the grate while she waited out the electricity board who’d hopefully come and turn everything back on.
She made it to the doorway; then, leaning heavily on the latch, pulled it open.
The snow was several inches deep and she wondered whether she’d be able to somehow hop and stagger through it or whether she’d end up face-planting her first snow angel.
‘It definitely isn’t like this in the movies,’ she said to herself.
Then, gathering her strength, she hopped her good foot into the icy mush on the ground.
Before she could do anything else, something little and black shot past her and Gabi rushed into the garden.
Spooked by the ultra-cold ground underfoot, she gave a kind of leap and for a moment looked like she was going to rush back into the house.
But instead, she shot off, as if trying to outrun the weather, disappearing into the trees at the back of the land.
‘Gabi!’ she called weakly after her pet, but the kitten was too far away to hear. And in any case, she would probably have ignored her even so.
There was nothing for it but to try to get to the barn, get a fire lit and hope the little kitten made her way home.