A Season in the Snow

by Isla Gordon

  ‘Mind if I open the curtains?’ Kemi asked, carefully.

  ‘Of course,’ Alice replied, keeping her eyes on the mugs in her hand. ‘It just keeps the flat cooler for Bear if the curtains are closed, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, sure,’ Kemi said, but Alice caught her glance at Bahira.

  ‘I can’t believe you all came over here. It’s Saturday. Don’t you take Zara swimming on a Saturday, Bahira? And Kem, you’re training for that half marathon next weekend, aren’t you?’

  ‘You remembered!’ grinned Kemi.

  ‘Sorry I don’t reply much in the group WhatsApp. I do lurk there, though, and keep up with the conversation.’

  ‘I can run tomorrow.’ Kemi waved her hand, dismissing both her training, but also Alice’s embarrassment at dropping out of touch. ‘Now, let’s have a cuppa.’

  ‘Ooh, I’d love a cuppa,’ said Theresa, who was snuggling into Bear, much to his delight.

  Alice glanced at the clock. ‘Did you guys want lunch or anything?’

  ‘Sure,’ replied Bahira. ‘What do you have?’

  Alice walked them all to her boxy little kitchen, Bear scrambling to be first, and she ran her fingers through his fur like a comfort blanket. ‘I have crisps, fish fingers, some frozen pizzas, potato waffles . . . All the beige food you could want,’ she joked.

  ‘Pizza sounds good to me,’ Theresa said. ‘We brought a load of goodies as well.’ She opened one of the plastic bags they were carrying and dumped a load of fruit and vegetables on to the side. What an odd gift to bring over. ‘I’ll make a side salad.’

  ‘How long can you stay for?’ Alice asked.

  Bahira faced her. ‘The rest of the day. Your mum didn’t think you’d have any plans, and we never see you any more.’

  ‘You spoke to my mum?’

  ‘Who do you think suggested we bring vegetables?’ Bahira picked up a red pepper and waved it in the air.

  ‘Okay,’ Alice said, feeling a little helpless in her own home. ‘I’m just going to get changed. Back in a minute.’

  She left the three of them in her kitchen and raced to her bedroom. Bear loyally followed her in and she shut the door behind them both, holding back the tears that were forming, though she didn’t know why. Was she happy they were there? Worried about what they’d say? Sad to be having to put on a show? Or just a little overwhelmed?

  Alice walked back out of her room, deflated. She hadn’t changed, she didn’t have the strength to put a mask on. Bear stayed close by her side.

  Theresa looked up from the salad, and Bahira and Kemi turned. Alice opened her mouth but no words came out.

  Bahira stepped forward first and wrapped her arms around Alice, closely followed by Kemi and Theresa.

  ‘I’m just having a bad day,’ Alice whispered.

  ‘We know,’ said Bahira.

  ‘Do you ever, since it happened, just feel like you’ll never be back to you ever again?’

  They all agreed, every one of them, and then they stood like that for a long while, until Bear pushed his nose in between their legs.

  Theresa laughed, betraying a sniffle. ‘You’re doing a good job raising this big handsome man. Jill would be really happy.’

  ‘Please look after yourself, though,’ Bahira said softly into Alice’s ear. ‘You’re a shadow at the moment.’

  ‘I’m not good company. I don’t have the energy,’ Alice replied. She didn’t mean it unkindly, she just couldn’t bring herself to subtext her feelings.

  ‘If there was one thing Jill was famous for, it was being someone who stayed checked in with all her friends, especially you. So if you won’t let us be here for you, we’ll be here for her.’

  Alice nodded and let Kemi lead her into the living room and the two of them silently cleaned up bottles and wrappers. Bahira and Theresa walked in shortly afterwards with salad and pizzas and when Alice went to retreat to the sofa, Theresa steered her to eat at the table. Bear couldn’t believe his eyes and didn’t quite know what to do with himself with them all sitting with their plates so far away from him.

  ‘How’s it been training Bear? Is he a handful?’ Theresa asked, bending her hand down to stroke him again.

  ‘Yes,’ Alice answered. ‘We’ve been going to puppy training classes, though.’

  ‘That’s good, good for you!’ exclaimed Kemi, as though Alice had just told her she was partaking in nightly speed dating.

  ‘Thanks. He’s definitely learning to be a bit better behaved. He’s quite needy and gets a bit anxious if I have to be away from him, so I’m pretty much with him twenty-four-seven. I guess I should leave him more, but well, I don’t want to.’ Alice shrugged.

  Kemi chomped on a piece of pizza. ‘Do what you want. As long as he’s happy and you’re happy, you know, relatively speaking, you can choose to raise him however you like.’

  The rest of the visit went by more easily than Alice expected, with conversation kept light and small-talky, but Alice kept thinking about what Kemi had said. As long as she was happy and as long as Bear was happy . . .

  ‘Don’t become a stranger, okay?’ Bahira said when the three of them were leaving Alice’s flat a while after lunch. ‘And call if you need anything.’

  ‘I will. And the same to you. Thanks for coming,’ Alice said, meaning it. ‘And thanks for the vegetables.’

  ‘Our pleasure.’

  When she closed the door she faced Bear, thoughtfully. So if neither of them fitted that criteria, about being happy, maybe it was time she did something about it?

  Chapter 15

  Alice watched Bear a lot over the next couple of days. She watched him stare out of the window, lie down only to get up and move somewhere else a short while later, walk up to her with hope in his eyes and an endless stream of toys he wanted her to play with, bump into her furniture and curl himself awkwardly around doorways.

  ‘We’re like birds trapped in a cage, you and me,’ she told him on the Tuesday afternoon before his last puppy training class. ‘Only we’re not two budgies, we’re two bloomin’ great barn owls.’

  Bear signed with resignation.

  ‘I’m just sad all the time, and you didn’t sign up for that, did you? You should have a big, happy home and lots of space and light and freedom to grow into those silly great paws. Because you’re still growing, you’re going to get bigger and bigger and it’s not fair to keep you here. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

  She was tired, and didn’t have any fight left in her. Bear climbed up next to her on the sofa, uninvited, and nudged his strong nose under her arm until it lifted over him. He pushed his face super-close to hers and licked her face, which was gross but also a little bit comforting.

  ‘Are you being a therapy dog now?’ she choked, a small laugh escaping. ‘That’s nice of you but I’m a lost cause. I don’t want to have to be strong any more.’

  She’d once been a big fan of change and adventure. If she could find that spirit again, surely that would be better than giving up?

  ‘I think I need to leave London.’

  ‘Leave?’ Alice’s mum looked up from gazing proudly at Bear’s dog school graduation certificate that he’d been given the night before.

  ‘We don’t fit here any more,’ Alice explained, pouring them both a cup of tea.

  Liz, who was visiting for the night, put down the certificate. ‘Do you think you’ll be happier somewhere else?’

  Alice shrugged. ‘I think I need to try.’

  ‘I think moving is a very good idea, but I’m worried you’ll feel the same just . . . somewhere else. I wish you’d find some help, just to talk things through.’

  Alice sat down with her tea and tried to formulate her words. ‘Even if I do go to see a counsellor or someone, at some point, I need something to change, for me and for this puppy. I’m not taking care of either of us properly.’

  ‘A therapist could help you with that.’

  ‘But moving is what I want to do now. Bear is getting way too big for this fla
t, it’s not fair on him, and what’s the point in spending loads of money trying to get something bigger in London? I’m hardly living the London life any more. Besides, being here everything leads back to . . . everything just hurts, all the time.’

  Liz sipped her tea and stretched her arm out to squeeze Alice’s shoulder. ‘We certainly don’t want that. Where would you like to move to?’

  ‘Now, that I haven’t figured out yet. Somewhere very different to here.’ Alice paused for a while, wanting to elaborate, but not even sure what she meant herself. Eventually she opened up. ‘I can’t not think about the concert. I can’t stand the heat, or the noise, or the crowds. And I know it’s October now and the heatwave has gone but I just feel so boxed in, everywhere, outside or inside and the thought of so many people and cars and crowds just make me . . . I can’t breathe any more. I feel like I was wearing rose-tinted glasses and they’ve been smashed to smithereens. And I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to want to hide away.’

  ‘You’re definitely not yourself. We miss the old Alice.’

  ‘I don’t feel anything close to the girl I was three months ago. I just feel like I need to change something, and I don’t think I can change anything while I’m in this environment.’

  ‘Tell me your dream environment,’ Liz prompted. ‘Somewhere quiet?’

  Alice thought. ‘Quiet, light, lots of space for Bear. Somewhere cold.’

  ‘Maybe you should start by taking a trip?’ Liz brightened. ‘A break might do you good. We can look after this big Bear for a week or two.’

  ‘I can’t leave him,’ Alice said automatically. ‘What if he thinks he’s been . . . abandoned again?’

  ‘You can leave him,’ her mum said with care. ‘But it’s up to you. Maybe take a trip with him, that could be fun!’

  ‘Where do you want to go, Bear? I bet you’d appreciate going somewhere chilly. He’s so glad it’s autumn,’ Alice told her mum.

  ‘I bet he is, he’s a winter Bear.’

  Inspiration struck Alice, a sparkle in the back of her mind that lit like an optical fibre flickering to life inside her, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought about this before.

  Alice turned to Bear who was sitting on the floor patiently, happy that these two were chatting above him, everyone staying where he could see them. His mouth hung open in a smile, big eyes trailing from Alice to her mum, pleased to be close by and included. ‘How about I take you to Switzerland, to the Bernese Oberland and up a mountain?’

  ‘Ooh, now that sounds like a tonic,’ said Liz.

  ‘Shall we take you back to Switzerland and leave you there?’ Alice joked, running her fingers through the thick fuzz of his chest. Bear lifted and paw and plonked it heavily across her arm. ‘I mean . . . you would probably quite like a visit to your home country. You could visit all your relations.’

  ‘Switzerland wouldn’t be too hard to drive to,’ Liz nudged.

  ‘I know,’ Alice answered. ‘It was going to be the last stop on Jill and my trip.’

  ‘And it won’t be too cold yet – your dad and I went there around this time of year when we were first married.’

  ‘I have a friend who lives in Switzerland – Vanessa. We were going to visit her while we were out there, and she was fine having a dog to stay in her house.’ Alice was thinking out loud, still playing with Bear’s fur.

  ‘Why don’t you call her?’

  ‘I think I’ll email. I don’t want to put her on the spot.’ Alice reached for her laptop. ‘I’ll just check what the rules are about driving through the Chunnel with pets . . . I know you can do it, but it was Jill who looked into all that before. Hey, look.’ She had already distracted herself googling Bernese Mountain Dogs in Switzerland and her screen had filled with images of happy pups twinning with her own, standing tummy-deep in the snow, or proudly atop hills. ‘Imagine if it snowed while we were out there. Bear, you would love the snow, it’ll be like a big cold blanket for you.’

  As Alice chattered away to the dog, lost in the happy distraction of research, her mother made an excuse to leave the room. Something about grabbing a jumper from the bedroom. As she left, Alice shot her big smile – it was nice having her mum around.

  A few minutes later, Bear walked out after her, stopping in the corridor and looking between the bedroom and back at Alice on the sofa. ‘I know, Bear, the herd has separated,’ said Alice, getting up to go and find her mum. She wanted to tell her the good news: that not only could dogs travel in your car through the Eurotunnel, but that it only took thirty-five minutes, and that there was an exercise area in the departure terminal with free poop bags!

  She followed Bear into the corridor and stopped when she heard her mum on the phone in the bedroom, speaking in hushed tones.

  ‘She’s making plans, Ed,’ she was whispering, pride and pleasure in her tone. ‘ . . . Yes, plans for things to do . . . A holiday first, and also moving house at some point, but something for her to dig her teeth into, beyond the upcoming week.’ Alice listened to her mother breathe more lightly, a sunbeam in her voice. ‘It’s fantastic, like seeing a bit of her old self back again.’

  There was no turning back now.

  Chapter 16

  Alice scuttled back to her laptop to email Vanessa and ask about visiting before her mum caught her listening.

  Hi Vanessa, how are you? Sorry to contact you again out of nowhere, and thanks for your kind message about Jill. I miss her a lot, and I know she would have loved to have visited you in Switzerland.

  If the offer is still open, I wondered if I could still come after all, with the dog, who I’ve adopted? We’re thinking of getting out of London for a week or two, and climbing up a mountain might be just what we need.

  A reply came back almost instantly.

  Yes yes yes! the email said. Only I have an idea to share with you. Can you give me a phone this evening?

  ‘Hi, Vanessa?’

  ‘Alice! How are you doing?’ cried the voice on the end of the line, a voice Alice hadn’t heard for close to ten years, but which still had the bounce she was familiar with, the melodic accent when Vanessa spoke in English. ‘I am so sorry to hear about what happened, I can’t believe you were involved in such a horrible thing, and Jill . . . oh Jill . . . I want to hug you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Alice said. ‘Hopefully we can do that soon. How are you?’

  ‘I’m okay, but listen, I really think you need to come to Switzerland because we will look after you and your doggie. I think you should come longer than a couple of weeks. Your email sounded so sad.’

  ‘Sorry . . . ’

  ‘Don’t apologise, you’re so British, lovely Alice. You are allowed to be sad. But if you’re sad in Switzerland we can make you better. Mountain air, lots of cheese, sexy snowboarders . . . eh? Come on!’

  Alice laughed. ‘It does sound good, but we can’t impose on you more than a couple of weeks. This dog is getting bigger by the day.’

  ‘I love him already! But here’s the thing, I actually have a . . . what would you call it . . . an ulterior motive. See, I really want to see you and spend loads of time with you and your hunky dog, but I’m like, two weeks away from starting a new job – I’m going to be travelling around the country leading chocolate and cheese tours for tourists. I’ll be on the road really the whole of the winter season.’

  Alice’s heart sunk a little. ‘Oh that’s okay, maybe another time?’

  ‘No, you don’t understand. I still think you should come. You could have my house while I’m away. Stay for the whole winter – your Bear will love it, there will be so much snow for him. I’d be popping back every couple of weeks for a few days, so we can have lots of mini get-togethers instead. What do you think?’

  What did she think? A million things, to be honest, all at once. She couldn’t just move abroad for a whole season. Certainly not to Switzerland; she didn’t even speak the language. What language did they even speak where Vanessa lived now? She remembered that
Vanessa spoke Swiss German, but did everyone else in her . . . village? No, no, she couldn’t leave her parents, or her friends, or her work.

  But throughout all these thoughts there was a ripple of excitement building in her, because actually, she could leave, that’s what she wanted, she’d even said so out loud to her mum. And she could move abroad – plenty of people did – and she would have done it in a heartbeat before all of this happened.

  Could she do this now?

  ‘Helloooooo, are you still there Alice?’ Vanessa sang out.

  Alice laughed. ‘Sorry, I was lost in thought. I don’t know . . . my job . . . ’

  ‘You are not freelance any more?’

  ‘Yes, sort of, I mean yes . . . I just don’t think I can.’

  ‘You can escape how you feel at the moment. You can escape.’

  Those three words. They shifted something in Alice and she looked over at Bear, snoozing, squished into the space between her sofa and her coffee table. He needed more than this. He needed fresh air, space, something different to look at.

  ‘You’re sure you wouldn’t mind us living in your house? You don’t mind dog fur everywhere?’

  ‘Why would I call you up and offer this if I minded, you silly Brit?’ Vanessa laughed. ‘You would be doing me a favour. And you two will love my house and my neighbours and you will make a lot of friends and eat a lot of food and have a lot of adventures, okay? Okay. Settled, yes?’

  Alice had two options. She stayed put, hiding from the world, or she escaped into it. She chose safe but sad, or she chose happy. She knew what Jill would have wanted her to do, and before she let herself consider it any further she said, ‘Yes.’

  The next two weeks were a blur. Alice poured all her energies into preparing for their big trip. Visits to the vet, pet passport application, packing lists, calls to Vanessa, numerous online shopping orders for snow wear, and giving notice on her flat seemed only the tip of the iceberg. It was during her first attempt at boxing up her belongings that she intended to store at her parents, and tidying parts of her apartment, that Alice noticed just how slack she’d become with cleaning.