Weathering the Storm: Secrets in the Snow, # 6

by Roz Marshall

  "Oh, man!" Spock stared in horror at the devastation that used to be his camera, then dived forwards and scrabbled amongst its remains. He felt empty inside; the purpose and anticipation that usually buoyed him up had disappeared, and instead, he felt a terrible void where his heart used to be.

  Lately, everything that could possibly have gone wrong seemed to have gone wrong. His camera was shattered beyond repair; the telephoto lens, which had cost him about a month's summer salary — probably the whole of his winter earnings — was in pieces; his project to document the ospreys raising their young was stalled before it even started; he'd suffered false accusations at work, and he'd no money left to go and meet EvenStar at LegendCon. He gazed up at the nearby mountains. Even the snow had started to desert him.

  He pulled his folding stool out of the hide and sat down. He felt tired; tired like he'd had a hard day riding the back corries in deep powder, but without the associated adrenaline buzz to pump the blood round his veins. He just wanted to go home, bury himself in his duvet, and forget that today had ever happened.

  Across the clearing, one of the ospreys was perched restively in a distant tree; the other wheeled in circles, flying high above the forest canopy. He sighed. "Dudes, we should leave, let the birds back to their nest."

  Jude straightened, a collection of camera pieces in her hands. "You're probably right. We should find the police and tell them what's happened. I'm sure they'll be able to catch those two."

  "Aha!" Callum's freckled face broke into a wide smile, and he held a tiny piece of black plastic aloft. "The memory card."

  The memory card! His photos weren't lost then. Something to be thankful for, Spock supposed.

  Callum looked thoughtfully at the card. "The police might want to see this as evidence?"

  Spock nodded. "Yep." He jerked his head in the direction the two men had run. "Got some photos when those dudes were at the nest."

  "You did?" Jude's eyes went unfocussed for a moment. "And I've just remembered where I saw the tall one before." She smiled triumphantly. "Let's go find the police and get those lowlifes sorted out once and for all."

  Chapter 16

  Monday 20th March

  JUDE STOOD BEHIND the podium and looked out at the assembled villagers. Some of the faces were openly hostile, others looked curious, still others resigned. I have to try and win them over, if my life in the village is to be worth living.

  "G—good evening, everybody." She swallowed, trying to find some moisture for her dry throat. "Betty has asked me to update you all on the events of yesterday evening.

  "Perhaps you heard police cars in the village at around six last night? Well, they were there to arrest a couple of men who we at first thought were stealing wild bird eggs — osprey eggs — from the forest behind Cairn Street." There were gasps and mutterings from those in the assembly who understood the significance of that.

  "But I recognised one of them as a man I'd seen at the last meeting, standing with Tyrone Palmer of Haywoods, and the police have determined that the men were actually trying to poison or disturb the ospreys, to stop them nesting in the woods."

  "Because of the hotel?" someone shouted from the back of the room.

  Betty stepped forward, and Jude stepped to the side to let her have the microphone. "Yes. The presence of protected species like ospreys is enough to put a bar on any development in the immediate vicinity. So we can use that as grounds to oppose Haywoods' planning application."

  In the front row, Allan's face turned thunderous. Without Haywoods, there would be no big payout for the ski school land. Jude clenched her jaw to stop the smile that was threatening to break out on her face.

  Another voice raised in the middle of the room. "What if they just go and kill the ospreys another night? We need to stop them."

  Betty nodded. "Very true. Let me pass you over to Simon, from Winters' Ski School, and he'll explain what's happening." She made eye contact with Simon and briefly inclined her head towards the lectern, then turned back to the villagers. "It was Simon who found the birds and who stopped the men from killing them. So we have a lot to thank him for."

  Simon shuffled into the centre of the stage, his head stooped as if trying to make himself appear less tall. He tapped the mic, then spoke into it. "Dudes." There was a zing of feedback, and he took an involuntary step backwards, then tried again, more quietly. "Um, the RSPB have made a hide near the nest and volunteers will watch the nest twenty-four-seven. Like an 'Osprey Watch'. But they need volunteers, if any of you dudes want to help?" He stepped back again and glanced at Betty, who took centre-stage once more.

  "What Simon forgot to say," Betty opened an arm in the direction of the snowboard instructor, "was that it was his photos of the miscreants which gave the police the evidence they needed to convict them. But in the process, the Haywoods men smashed his camera and a very expensive lens."

  At the side of the stage, Simon grimaced.

  "So I propose, since we have this young man to thank for saving the village from the developers, that we use some of the fighting fund that we collected last time to replace his camera and lens."

  Simon looked up, his mouth falling open, then started to speak. "Man—"

  Betty held up a hand imperiously, silencing Simon. "We'll have a vote on it." She turned to Jude. "Can you please help me count again?" Jude nodded, and Betty raised an arm. "Can I have a show of hands for everyone who is in agreement that we should use some of our fighting fund to replace Simon's photography equipment?"

  Drumming his fingers on the edge of the keyboard, Spock waited impatiently for the spinning icon on his laptop to disappear. At last, the sandstone walls of the castle came into focus, and he anxiously scanned the room. But she wasn't there.

  That's two days now she's missed our rendezvous. Could she be sick? Then Spock's stomach sank. Maybe she's mad I'm not going to the convention. But what could he do about it? He'd no money left that wasn't already accounted for.

  Opening his inventory, he furnished his avatar with weapons and practised a few moves. But after a couple of minutes, he realised that his heart wasn't in it. He enjoyed the game more when she was there. Even his onscreen character looked dejected; shoulders slumped as the sword and shield hung listlessly from the knight's hands.

  Spock clicked the quit button. Tomorrow. He'd see her tomorrow. Wouldn't he? Stay positive. He flipped the laptop shut. Stay positive.

  Chapter 17

  Tuesday 21st March

  YAWNING AND RUBBING his eyes, Spock loped off the forest path and turned onto Cairn Street, his mind on the osprey nest and the progress the birds had made since his last visit. As he latched the gate, a rumbling noise from his tummy made him check the time. There's almost time to grab breakfast, if I hurry.

  Most of the houses he passed were traditional Scottish one-and-a-half-storey buildings, with dormer windows set in pitched slate roofs and practical porches designed to keep the biting Scottish wind from blowing straight inside. One of the larger houses on the street had a little cottage butted against it, and as Spock passed, the door flew open and a petite lady wearing a voluminous wool coat stumbled out. She set a small suitcase on the ground beside her while she locked the door, then un-latched the gate and stepped onto the pavement.

  Spock nodded at her, and stood aside to let her precede him, but she'd only taken a couple of steps when she stopped with a gasp, doubling up so that he could only see her back.

  "Um, are you okay?" Spock asked, stopping beside her.

  "Yeh," she grunted, without looking at him, streaky blonde hair falling across her cheeks. "It'll pass in a minute."

  Spock waited till she straightened up. "You sure you're okay?"

  "I will be. I just need to get to the phone box."

  "Don't you have a mobile phone?"

  She shook her head and started walking towards the main street. "Mine doesn't work here, and I haven't had a chance to get a UK one since I arrived."

  Falling into step b
eside her, Spock wondered whether he should offer to loan her his phone. Would that seem overly familiar? Then he realised that she was still breathing quite heavily, and held out his hand to take her suitcase. "Let me take that?"

  She glanced up at him as she handed it over, and he noticed that her eyelashes were light brown and unusually long, framing almond-shaped blue eyes. "Thanks."

  Spock could listen to that melodious voice forever. "Where are you from?"

  "New Zealand."

  He wracked his brain for another question. "Have you been here long?"

  "Just ten days. I came with my boyfriend."

  They walked in silence for a moment as Spock digested this. Before he'd thought of another conversation topic, they'd turned onto the main street and the red phone box was in sight, opposite the empty ski shop, which inspired him. "For the skiing?"

  "Eh? Oh, yeh. He's an instructor." She stopped in front of the wrought-iron phone box and nodded at her suitcase. "Thanks for helping."

  "Laters," Spock said, passing her the case then raising a hand in farewell as he rotated slowly on one heel and carried on along the main street. When he passed the bus stop his tummy rumbled again and he glanced at his watch. It was nearly time for the bus. I'll have to grab breakfast up the hill after all. Again. He really needed to set a timer or something so his osprey-watch sessions didn't over-run. He nodded to himself. He'd do that tomorrow.

  Clutching his coffee beaker, Mike frowned as he spotted the small throng of people standing outside the ski school hut. He negotiated the last few parked cars, and called over to Callum. "What's up?"

  "Allan's no' here yet. And Debbie had a spare key but…" The boy shrugged and grimaced. Allan had taken the key off Debbie when he stopped her working at the reception desk.

  Mike took a sip from his cup, for want of anything better to do. "She'll be right," he said, for want of anything better to say.

  Across the car park, the ski bus pulled in and a couple of red and blue uniforms spilled down the steps. "There's Simon and Zoë," said Callum, nodding towards the bus. "Allan must be really late." Callum's lip curled. "What was it he was telling us the other day about professionals always arriving early?"

  "Yeah." Mike stamped his feet and tucked his free hand into his pocket.

  As the bus pulled away, Spock turned for the café and Zoë started across the slippery car park towards the ski school. But before she reached them, a grey estate car churned down the slushy track and turned into the parking slot beside the ski school.

  "Here he is!" said Callum.

  "Finally," muttered Mike, wondering if, just for a change, Allan would have him teaching beginners again this morning? But the car door opened and he got a surprise — a pleasant surprise — when Jude stepped out.

  "Jude!" Callum said. "You're back?"

  She twisted her mouth. "Allan asked me to cover for him today. He got called away on urgent business."

  Urgent business? Mike shook his head imperceptibly. But with Allan out of the way, perhaps he'd finally get a chance to talk to Jude about what he'd seen in New Zealand. He'd have to get some time alone with her; with Allan back at the ski school it'd been impossible, but today he'd make it a priority, and this time he wouldn't let anything — or anyone — stand in his way.

  Jude shivered as a gust of wind grabbed at her jacket and flipped it open. She turned towards the door. "It's too cold to be standing out here. Let's get inside and get organised."

  Footsteps clattered on the wooden floor of the hut and breath misted in the cold air as the instructors piled inside. Jude hurried across to the Calor heater, fiddling with the ignition until it caught light and a meagre heat started radiating into the room. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. "Mike, could you please organise the daily classes as quickly as you can? I'll check the book for any extras."

  While she was checking the diary, the door swung open again and Simon came in, the aroma of bacon roll preceding him. Her tummy rumbled. I'll need to get some breakfast when it quietens down.

  "Hey man!" Simon raised his hand in greeting towards Mike. "Guess who I met earlier?"

  Mike stopped writing on the whiteboard and gave Simon a questioning look.

  "Your girlfriend."

  His girlfriend? He has a girlfriend? Jude's insides turned icy, like the air in the room. Mike had a girlfriend? How had she never realised that before? Could it be that awful Monique woman from Valentine's Day? Had she ensnared him after all, or had he met someone else since then?

  "My girlfriend?" Mike's eyebrows shot up under his fringe, and he looked mildly amused. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

  Simon sat down on the bench and gestured with his half-eaten roll. "She said she was from New Zealand and she was here with her boyfriend who was a ski instructor."

  Mike's face blanched and he glanced briefly at Jude before focussing on Simon again. "Eh, not me, mate." There was the briefest of pauses as the muscles of his throat tightened. "Probably someone from Ski-Easy or one of the other ski schools. Plenty people work down there in your summer."

  Jude's spirits lightened for one brief moment. It's not him. Then her heart froze again as she realised another plausible scenario. Was it possible? She glanced between Mike and Simon. Could it be true? Head spinning, everything around her went into slow motion. Would he do that to her? And how could Mike know and not tell me? Tears pricked her eyes, and she turned her head so that they wouldn't see. Keep a lid on it. Get the lessons started, and then you can have it out with Mike.

  "Mike," she called across the room. "Can you leave yourself free first slot? I want your view on— erm, a new training plan."

  As the last instructor headed across the car park like a pied piper followed by his crowd of children, Mike turned towards the ski school hut. His feet felt like lead as he ascended the steps. Now that it had come to it, he didn't know how he was going to tell Jude. But he'd need to; if that blonde he'd seen with Allan was actually over in Scotland, like Spock had said, then Jude was bound to find out sometime soon. Better to come from a friend, wasn't it?

  Inside the hut was deathly quiet. Jude had moved from her customary desk at the entrance, to the staff table in the centre of the hut, where she sat glacially still, hands clasped on the wooden surface.

  "Coffee?" Mike asked, switching the kettle on.

  She shook her head.

  He switched the kettle off again and carried his rapidly cooling takeaway coffee beaker over to the table. "Jude," he sat down opposite her, "before we discuss the training, there's something I need to talk to you about."

  "It's Allan, isn't it?" Her voice was ominously low.

  "Well, yeah, but—"

  "It's his girlfriend that Simon saw, isn't it?"

  Mike rocked back in his seat as if from a physical blow. "Well, yeah, probably—"

  "And you knew about her, didn't you?"

  This isn't going well. "Well, yeah, but I haven't—"

  "So why didn't you tell me?" With each question her voice had got louder, and this last enquiry came out almost like a wail of anguish.

  "I tried to bloody tell you," he shouted back, "but we were never alone. There's not been two minutes where there's not been someone here to overhear us ever since I got back."

  She was cringing in her seat at his sudden outburst, and his cheeks flushed. I must sound just as loud and overbearing as her husband. "Sorry," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to shout at you. But it's been really frustrating. If it's not been Sandy or Debbie hanging around, it's been Allan himself. And then he came and took things over, and he's been trying to force me out—"

  "Force you out?" Her eyes widened.

  "Yeah, he's been giving me beginners or minis every day, trying to sicken me. He doesn't realise—"

  "—that you like teaching beginners," she finished for him.

  He couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. But the man's a drongo. I only stuck it out because of you." He glanced across at her and cleared h
is throat. "Because I needed to tell you what I saw in New Zealand."

  "Allan with the girl Simon saw?" Her voice had dropped a decibel again.

  He shrugged. "I don't know for sure that it's her, but… It's quite a coincidence."

  "So he was with a girl in New Zealand? You went to check him out after all?"

  "Yeah. I saw them together at a pub in Queenstown."

  She bit her lip.

  "Sorry. But I thought you should know."

  She gave a tiny nod. "I— I'd rather know. Now I need to decide what to do about it."

  He took a deep breath, and she looked up at him.

  "What is it?"

  "There's more."

  Her eyes widened again, and she went so still that for a moment he thought she'd stopped breathing. "More?" she whispered.

  He nodded. "She— there's not an easy way to say this."

  "Say what?"

  "She— I'm sorry Jude, but— the girl I saw was pregnant."

  Chapter 18

  "LOOK! LOOK AT those snowboarders!" The boy's high-pitched voice cut through the bluster of snow at the top of the Sneachda Deàrrsach, and the whole class turned to look at Spock and his group of snowboarders as, one at a time, they performed tricks and jumps off a ramp of snow at the side of the piste.

  Behind his goggles, Callum's eyes hardened. William. Causing trouble again. Spock had warned him about the boy's bullying and posturing; and he'd been right. The boy was always in the middle of some drama or other. "Boys!" He made his voice sharp to catch their attention. "Let's get down the hill and out of this weather. Parallels. In a line, behind me." He pointed at the first boy, indicated that he should follow, then set off down the slope.

  After his first turn, he looked back to check the group, and skidded to a halt. He was two skiers short. But he didn't even need to ask where they'd gone — at the side of the run, a navy jacket followed a grey one as they shot towards the snowboarders' jump. Too fast!