Winter's Shadow

by M. J. Hearle

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Jasmine said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the queue.

  ‘Hey! You can’t do that!’ an overweight, grouchy-looking guy in a black T-shirt several sizes too small yelled from behind them.

  Jasmine whipped her head around and snapped, ‘Deal with it!’

  Winter glanced up and down the line for Blake. Her heart sank when she couldn’t see him. Jasmine smirked at her. ‘Looking for someone?’

  Winter tried to shrug innocently, but it was clear by her friend’s reaction that her feelings were written all over her face. Jasmine linked arms with her as the line began to move forward. ‘C’mon, he might already be inside.’

  The event organisers had set up a makeshift stage at the front of the surf club, and turned the small kiosk at the back into a bar. There was a huge rectangular fixture hanging over the stage with half a dozen spotlights attached to it, all trained on the area where the band would play. The structure looked as if it would have been at home in an indoor stadium and seemed wildly out of place, not to mention dangerous, in the modest dimensions of the surf club. Aiding these overhead fluorescents was a netting of blue Christmas bulbs strung along the walls. Their glow hid the bulletin board and trophy case behind them, which would have broken the illusion that the venue wasn’t solely a temple of rock’n’roll worship.

  Sam spotted the bar. ‘Right, can I get you lovely ladies a drink?’

  Winter shook her head and reached for her purse. ‘No, it’s fine. I can get my own.’

  ‘Let him get you a drink, Win.’ Jasmine turned to Sam and smiled appreciatively. ‘Thank you, sweetie, a couple of Cokes would be great. And could you see if they’ve got any chips? Barbecue.’

  ‘I’ll be right back.’ He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  Jasmine sighed wistfully as she watched him disappear into the blue miasma.

  ‘You’ve got yourself a good one there, Jas,’ Winter said, neglecting to comment on how many other ‘good ones’ Jasmine had known this year alone.

  First there had been Eric, captain of the swim team, a blond, lanky boy with an almost perfect inverted isosceles-triangle-shaped midsection. He hadn’t lasted more than two weeks, which was a week longer than Kevin Mulhoney, an aspiring painter who started seeing Jasmine after he asked her to pose for him for the yearly Hagan’s Bluff Portrait Competition. Kevin had barely finished sketching Jasmine’s legs when she dumped him – apparently he was making her look fat – and started dating Chris Baker, who had hair almost as long as Winter’s and a habit of misquoting poetry.

  There were others, of course, but these were the first three that popped into Winter’s head. Based on how short-lived these romances had been, Winter couldn’t help but wonder when poor Sam’s use-by date would be up. Although, considering the starry-eyed look in Jasmine’s eyes, there was a chance he might last longer than the rest.

  ‘I know. I keep trying to find a fault with him but so far I’m coming up empty. He might just be perfect.’

  Winter mimicked her friend’s wistful expression. ‘Jasmine Hu: hopeless romantic.’

  Jasmine ignored her, and pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘We would make beautiful babies . . .’

  Winter couldn’t disagree with that. With Jasmine’s exquisite golden skin and Sam’s blond perfection, their children would definitely be genetically blessed. She was about to comment on this when she noticed a slow smile spread across Jasmine’s face.

  Winter turned to follow Jasmine’s gaze and felt the ground lurch beneath her, like she was standing on the bow of a ship which had suddenly hit a wave.

  Blake had arrived.

  Chapter 32

  Dressed in a fitted suit and collared shirt open at the neck – in marked contrast to the torn jeans and T-shirts of the other concertgoers – Blake stood at the entrance of the surf club, appearing ill at ease amid the flowing tide of grungy teenagers. Gorgeous as he was, Blake looked a little like somebody’s older brother who had wandered into the venue to keep an eye on things.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Winter said, surprised she was still capable of speech. Seeing Blake was a much bigger shock than she’d expected.

  Jasmine put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze. ‘Steady, girl. Just remember to breathe.’

  ‘He came!’

  ‘Of course he did. You invited him. Now, go talk to him.’

  She gently nudged Winter towards Blake. He was squinting into the gloom of the surf club, as though searching for somebody. Looking for her.

  ‘Maybe I’ll wait here a bit longer.’

  Jasmine pushed her again. Winter glanced desperately at Jasmine, but saw there was no point arguing with her.

  ‘Go on!’ Jasmine ordered.

  Winter took a deep breath and walked nervously through the crowd to where Blake was standing. Backlit by the blue neon, he seemed impossibly beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that it made her even more hesitant to approach him. She didn’t feel she had the right to enter Blake’s orbit. The way his thick black curls framed his face, those high cheekbones and sculpted jawline – he just looked so . . . perfect. Her heart skipped a beat as his eyes met hers, and she felt a little weak at the knees.

  ‘Decided to brave the crowd, did you?’ she said, finally reaching him. Winter was impressed by how relaxed her voice sounded in opposition to the almost debilitating excitement and anxiety she felt crackling through her body.

  ‘Well, I thought to myself, “how bad could it be?”’ he replied, struggling to raise his voice over the hum of the crowd. A boy wearing his cap backwards bumped roughly into Blake as he angled towards the bar. He didn’t bother apologising, just continued on obliviously. Blake laughed off the rudeness. ‘I might have made a mistake.’

  ‘I’m glad you came.’ And that was all Winter could think of to say. His appearance had thrown her to the point where she seemed incapable of coming up with anything to contribute to the conversation. She was just starting to panic that she would spend the rest of the evening suffering this speech paralysis, when Jasmine sashayed out of the gloom to rescue her.

  ‘Hi, I’m Jasmine. Winter’s best friend.’ Jasmine stuck out her hand, unable to restrain herself from adopting her most sultry tone of voice.

  Blake shook her hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Jasmine.’

  Winter couldn’t be positive in the dim light, but it looked as though Jasmine actually blushed when Blake touched her. Winter had never seen a guy make Jasmine blush before.

  ‘I’m sure Winnie’s told you all about me?’ Jasmine continued hopefully.

  ‘Not really,’ Blake said with a shrug, and Winter felt guilty at the secret delight she took in the way Jasmine’s eyes widened slightly in shock. She was used to being the centre of every male’s attention. Luckily, Sam arrived at that moment to offer Jasmine’s ego the boost it required.

  ‘Two Cokes. There weren’t any —’ Seeing Blake, Sam paused mid-sentence and Winter was intrigued to see his cheerful disposition fade. He handed Jasmine the two drinks and stepped territorially in front of her.

  ‘Blake, is it?’ Sam said, smiling politely but keeping his gaze fixed on Blake in an entirely unfriendly manner. ‘I’m Sam.’

  Blake nodded, but made no effort to put Sam at ease. Instead, he reacted to Sam’s presence with similar hostility, his smile tightening, becoming a grimace. The two shook hands, both reluctant to be the one to break their grip first. They appeared to be testing each other’s strength.

  Winter didn’t know why Blake and Sam were acting so aggressively towards each other, but she thought she should try to put a stop to it.

  ‘Maybe we should move closer to the stage? I think they’re about to start.’

  As if on cue, the speakers at the front of the stage whined with feedback as a roadie switched the mics on. Jasmine had been staring at Blake so intensely that she’d been oblivious to her date’s obvious insecurity. Now she noted Sam’s reaction, and quickly tried to defuse the situation.

&nbs
p; ‘Good idea, I want to be able to see the band.’ She grabbed Sam by his arm and tugged him towards the stage.

  Sam allowed himself to be led away, but not before shooting Blake one last look, as though warning him to keep his distance. Blake seemed to relax once Sam was gone. He gestured towards the stage where a sizeable crowd of teenagers was gathering in preparation for the band’s arrival. ‘After you.’

  Winter nodded, wishing she had the courage to take Blake by the hand as Jasmine had taken Sam. Instead, she walked ahead of him, taking some small comfort in how closely he trailed in her wake as she pushed through the crowd. A few times he lightly bumped up against her, the brief contact giving her goosebumps of pleasure.

  Once they’d reached the spot Jasmine and Sam had found near the front, Winter was careful to put herself between the two guys. Jasmine must have been thinking the same thing, as she’d made sure Sam was standing on the outside of their quartet. Her arm was securely around Sam’s waist in an effort to put him at ease.

  It didn’t seem to be working.

  Winter could see Sam’s expression in the neon glow and he didn’t seem at all happy. It never failed to surprise her how competitive guys could be, not just in sport, but in all areas of life. Thinking about Sam’s reaction, Winter wondered if a guy would ever feel that protective towards her.

  She stole a glance at Blake who was looking around distractedly as though worried somebody might recognise him. It was a minor emotional blow to catch him looking so uncomfortable. She understood that this wasn’t exactly his crowd, but he might at least mask his uneasiness a little for her benefit! If only he would look at her and smile, or do something that showed he felt a ghost of the excitement she was feeling, or, failing that, just acknowledge her. Instead, Blake’s gaze seemed to take in everything around him except Winter.

  A loud cheer issued from the crowd as the Urban Ninjas took the stage, and Winter tried to will herself out of the anxious funk she was slipping into. Maybe Blake would loosen up once the music started. The lead singer, Alfie Jameson, strutted up to the microphone, his Fender guitar slung low on his hip. He looked older than he had in the video clips Winter had caught previously on television – closer to thirty than twenty. ‘Good evening, Hagan’s Bluff,’ he purred to the audience. ‘Hope you have a good time tonight – I know we will.’ And they leapt straight into their signature hit, ‘What Dreams May Come’.

  The crowd around Winter jumped and swayed to the driving rhythm of the music. She looked over at Jasmine and saw her pumping her fist and shaking her hips, singing along to the lyrics of the chorus. Even Sam moved to the music, but he didn’t seem to be enjoying the performance as much as Jasmine. He kept sneaking glances at Blake, as though checking to make sure he was maintaining his distance. Only Blake didn’t seem to be caught up in the vibe of the room. Winter kept spotting him through the strobing lightshow and every time she did, Blake seemed more distracted. If he heard the music he certainly wasn’t reacting to it. Standing stock still, a faint crease lining his forehead, Blake was a million miles away.

  What was his problem?

  Towards the end of the song, Blake caught Winter looking at him and smiled guiltily, as though embarrassed by his own preoccupied behaviour.

  Winter shouted to him over the music, ‘Are you okay?’

  Blake frowned as her words were lost in a deafening distortion coming through the speakers.

  ‘Are you —’ Winter began to repeat herself, but was interrupted by a strange creaking sound coming from above them. Even as she dismissed it as feedback or some other speaker effect, Blake seemed to hear it too and looked up at the heavy bank of spotlights. Following his worried gaze, Winter flashed upon her experience in the church just before the roof had come down.

  One of the lights overhead seemed to be trembling.

  Suddenly there was a horrible ripping sound of metal being torn asunder, and the light winked out. Rooted to the spot in numb shock, Winter watched it extend for a second from its dangling lead, before tearing loose. It fell through the flickering darkness towards her.

  There was no time for fear, just detached fascination as she studied the tumbling object’s descent. Winter was barely aware of Blake lifting her off the ground as he swung her away from the light, an instant before it crashed into the ground. He held her in his arms, shielding her with his own body from the spray of shrapnel.

  The music was cut off in an ear-piercing wail of feedback as the Urban Ninjas squinted into the audience. Though the crashing light had been barely audible over their music, the commotion it caused in the crowd had been enough to draw their attention.

  Cradled to Blake’s chest, Winter could feel his heart pounding beneath her cheek. She shakily withdrew herself from his embrace to see what had happened. The wreckage of the spotlight lay scattered around the place where she’d just been standing. Jasmine was standing on the other side of the fallen light, looking pale and frightened. The spotlight had barely missed her as well.

  ‘What’s going on out there?’ Alfie Jameson called into the audience. ‘Is somebody hurt?’

  Winter looked from the wreckage to Blake’s grim expression. He knew! Despite its irrationality, the certainty of this thought pierced through her shock. Somehow Blake had known the light was going to fall.

  Chapter 33

  The Urban Ninjas refused to continue after the accident, much to the frustration of the crowd, who began stamping their feet and booing as soon as they left the stage. No one had been hurt, after all – what was stopping the band from finishing the set? After five minutes passed without the band returning, the foot-stamping and jeers dwindled to subdued grumbling, and the audience began to disperse.

  As soon as the crowd had thinned enough for them to move, Blake gently guided Winter towards the exit, protecting her as best he could from the angry teenagers buffeting them on all sides. Still feeling shocked, Winter tried to dismiss the strange certainty that Blake had known about the accident before it happened. How could he have? It was impossible, of course, but that didn’t stop her feeling it was true. She tried to keep sight of Jasmine and Sam, but soon lost them in the sea of faces. They’d have to find each other once they were outside.

  Buoyed by the flow, Winter and Blake spilled out into the parking lot and drifted to the pavement. Disgruntled concertgoers stood in small clusters nearby, moaning to each other about the truncated performance, or complaining into their phones. A group of boys had started playing the Urban Ninjas loudly on their phones and were jumping up and down, refusing to have their good time ruined.

  Winter was barely aware of them. She kept playing the image of the light hurtling towards her, over and over in her mind. Sometimes the image morphed and she was back in Pilgrim’s Lament and it wasn’t a light but the wooden beam that was falling. It had been so close. If Blake hadn’t . . .

  ‘You’re not hurt, are you?’ Blake was studying her with concern.

  ‘No. Apart from my brain, which I think might be damaged.’ She laughed weakly. ‘I’m having some crazy thoughts.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like I’m cursed or something. There’s only so many times you can nearly be squashed in a week before you start getting paranoid.’ Winter tried to keep her tone light, yet her voice sounded fragile, as though it might break at any moment.

  ‘You’re not paranoid. Just unlucky.’ Blake took her hand, squeezing it gently. ‘Don’t be afraid. Everything’s going to be fine.’

  Winter smiled hopefully. ‘Promise?’

  Blake hesitated a second, before answering. ‘Promise. Look, there’s Jasmine.’

  She followed his gaze and saw Jasmine stumble out of the milling crowd, looking perplexed. Winter stood on tiptoe and waved her over. She could tell that Jasmine was still a little rattled.

  ‘Have you seen Sam?’ Jasmine asked distractedly. ‘We got separated in the crowd. I can’t find him.’

  Winter shook her head. ‘Have you tried calling him?’


  ‘Yeah – but his phone’s turned off.’

  ‘Do you want us to help you look for him?’ Blake asked.

  ‘No, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.’ Jasmine scanned the parking lot again. ‘How are you two doing? Got out in one piece? That was a pretty crazy scene in there.’

  ‘All fingers and toes accounted for.’

  ‘You’re lucky your guy there has some good reflexes.’

  ‘I know,’ Winter replied, glancing sideways at Blake, who seemed uncomfortable with the attention.

  ‘Well, if you see Sam, tell him to call me. It was nice to finally meet you, Blake,’ Jasmine said, offering him her hand.

  Blake shook it politely. ‘You too, Jasmine.’

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Win.’ Jasmine’s eyes conveyed as clearly as a wordless gaze could: don’t mess this up!

  Once Jasmine had left, Winter let out a long shaky breath. Things definitely hadn’t gone as well as they could have, but perhaps she could salvage the night. ‘So, how do hamburgers and fries sound? There’s a cafe just round the corner. It should still be open.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I better be getting home.’

  ‘Do you have to?’ Winter tried to hide her disappointed tone, but failed. She cringed a little at the neediness in her voice. She sounded like a little kid.

  ‘Yeah. Another time, though.’

  Winter could see that he was genuinely sorry, which made her feel a little less deflated, but why couldn’t he spare her another hour or two?

  She needed comforting, damn it! Perhaps he needed to feed the cats. Cats . . . Winter hoped Lucy’s efforts with the garden hose had been successful. After the drama in the surf club, she couldn’t bear the thought of another sleepless night.

  ‘Okay, I’ll walk you to your car.’

  Blake seemed a little amused by her inversion of the classic chivalrous gesture, but didn’t protest. He’d done enough for her tonight, the least she could do was walk him to his car. As they walked in silence towards the end of the parking lot where Blake’s truck stood, Winter tried to figure out a way to ask him for his phone number. Determined not to let this opportunity go to waste, she was finding it difficult to settle on the best phrasing. It seemed incredibly important not to mess up this particular question.