Chapter 71
SEVENTY-ONE
Matt called around six. He sounded worried.
‘I’m at Waterloo – they’re cancelling all the trains. Apparently, there’s more snow coming.’
‘Could you get to Basingstoke and get a taxi?’
‘I doubt it, but even if I could, I’d never get back to London in the morning. And it’s the mediation session tomorrow. Will you be all right if I go to a hotel?’
‘Of course.’ She hated it when he wasn’t there at night, but it sounded like he had no choice. ‘We’ll be fine.’
She checked the local news. Sure enough, more bad weather was predicted to arrive later that evening. They were even talking about the possibility of thundersnow, a relatively rare phenomenon in the UK.
Already, high wind was making Trade Cottage sough and rock, like a ship straining against its anchor. She got the children to bed early with the promise of fresh snow and another school closure next day, then called Matt again.
He’d found a grotty hotel near Elephant and Castle. ‘Everywhere else was full. But it’s fine. I’ll make it back tomorrow night, I promise.’
‘Hope the mediation goes well.’ They chatted some more before they rang off, Kate already pulling open the fridge and reaching for the open bottle of wine she knew was in there.
Then she froze.
In the fridge door, between the white wine and the grapefruit juice, was a bottle of Pol Roger.