by Janet Rogers
They stood gazing at the lake for a few more minutes, the icy wind slowly penetrating the outer layers of their clothing. The lake revealed nothing, and finally Amelia turned to Nick and said. ‘Time to go. I’ve said my goodbyes.’
They were both quiet on the way back. Even the driver seemed to sense the sombre mood in the car and he made no small talk.
Amelia was the one who broke the silence. ‘Your mother was right. Remember how you told me she acknowledged that people have at times indulged their worst instincts here in Russia?’
Nick glanced at her, but said nothing.
‘But that she also believed passionately in the goodness, or the potential for goodness, to be found here?’
‘You’re thinking about Sudakov.’
Amelia nodded. ‘I am. But mainly I’m thinking about you.’
Nick flushed and started shaking his head, but she continued before he could stop her.
‘You’ve chosen to do something good for someone. Despite the difficulties it must have caused you and the fact that you had no obligations to me, you chose to help me.’ Amelia hesitated. ‘She would have been so proud of you.’
‘Nick shook his head again.
‘And I am very grateful.’
Nick remained silent and only the visible emotions playing across his face told her that her words had meant something to him.
They drove in silence for a long while before he spoke. ‘What will you do now? Go back to England? Do you think you’ll continue living there or will you move back to Canada?’
‘I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll do a little bit of both. Maybe do some travelling. The importance of creating new memories and all that,’ Amelia replied, realising that she hadn’t given the future much thought. ‘And you?’
‘I think I’ll go home for a while, spend Christmas with my dad. After the last week or two it’s probably a good idea to keep my head down for a while. I’m due for a decent break, anyway.’
‘You certainly are.’
He smiled at her and hesitated for a long moment before he spoke again. ‘Have you ever been to Colorado?’
She shook her head. For a while he said nothing, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.
When he spoke again, his voice was different, somehow deeper, and she could feel his eyes on her. ‘It’s very beautiful, you know.’
Amelia glanced at him quickly before dropping her gaze again, the unspoken invitation hanging between them.
‘So I hear,’ she said, unable to say more.
He turned to look out at the snowy landscape, choosing to add nothing more.
Amelia looked at him and eventually found her own question. ‘Have you ever been to the Canadian Rockies? The mountains, the lakes, the trees. It’s quite different from what you see in the US.’ She smiled when he turned to face her. ‘And it’s also very beautiful. Worth seeing.’
Nick returned her smile. It was gentle and happy and reached beyond his tired eyes. It was a smile she hadn’t seen before.
‘It sounds good,’ he said slowly. ‘It sounds very good.’
The smile remained on his face as he continued looking at her. ‘Shake on it?’
Amelia looked at the hand he was holding out to her. She took it carefully.
He pressed her hand, shook it slowly, gently and didn’t let go of it for the rest of the journey.
Author’s note
I am grateful to the many who, whether knowingly or not, contributed to the way this story unfolded, but the following people deserve special mention: Gina and Jimmy Weir-Smith for their unwavering support, encouragement and a promise to buy the book; Delene Morgendaal for being a friend, adviser and first reader; Aaron Rosenstein for giving me new direction and valuable advice, and the people of Russia for allowing me to see a few of the many faces of their fascinating country.
All spouses of aspiring, hopeful, doubt-ridden, occasionally unbalanced writers deserve special medals for what they do (and don’t do). My husband Tom is no exception. Thank you for believing in me when I didn’t.
ABOUT THE
AUTHOR
Janet Rogers grew up in South Africa. Her early career was in teaching, followed by research for the management consulting industry. She has lived with her adventurous American husband in Canada, Russia and currently Portugal. She has no idea where home is anymore and probably never will, but she is delighted that her base at present is in a sunny, wine-producing country.
For more on the author, visit janetrogersblog.wordpress.com