Brady turned away.
‘Sorry, did I say something wrong?’
‘No, no problem, I’m just cold. Come on, let's make a move before this gets any worse. The hotel is only a few minutes up the High Street’
Jane stood up and moved towards the door zipping up her anorak and putting on her gloves.
‘Hey, you two, what about the old lady. Do you know her?’
The landlord was walking across the pub towards them.
‘What am I supposed to do with her?’ he whined.
Brady stared him down.
‘Can't you arrange to get her home or put her up for a few hours till the snow stops?
The landlord looked blankly at Brady and then to Jane.
‘I would normally,’ whispered the landlord, ‘but she’s dead’.
Brady and Jane looked at each other, turned for the door and walked out into the snow.
Day 2 – Grantham, Lincolnshire -12 Noon
Mike Norman started his engine.
‘Strap in tightly, lad, we’re in for quite a ride I reckon.’
Mike put the engine into low gear and turned left toward the slip road. The wagon went into a slight skid and then straightened as he moved onto the snowy tarmac surface.
He looked to his right, then ahead and shouted with relief,
‘It's clear to the turn off. Hang on, lad.’
Mike set off up the road at about twenty miles per hour and reached the less snowy surface of the slip road with no problem. The power of his wagon was more than a match for the snow. He glanced ahead and saw traffic in both lanes ahead – stopped dead. However, the vehicles were on the carriageway and either side there was a narrow verge of tarmac that was definitely clear. He selected the inside lane, drove up onto the verge and steered past the waiting vehicles. Some were already empty and some had occupants, who started sounding their horns.
‘Forget them, lad, we’re going on, not sitting here waiting to freeze.’ Mike was really up for this now!
He reached the roundabout and just kept on going – around the corner to the left and up the slope towards Grantham. As he came abeam the service station, he spotted the first problem. A car was parked on the verge – doors open, lights off. He slowed to a stop and peered at the vehicle. Just to be certain, he jumped down from his cab, ran up to the car, looked inside, ran back to the cab, and climbed in.
‘Hold on, lad.’
He edged the cab forward until his bumper touched the car and slowly forced it off the verge and into the ditch.
The car horns now really started blaring.
He ignored them all and kept driving.
‘In for a sheep as a lamb,’ he muttered under his breath.
Mike soon reached the next roundabout. He looked up the hill and quickly assessed that he could not remain on the verge. It petered out after the roundabout so he would need an alternative. He stared ahead and reckoned that there was enough room between the two static lanes of traffic for his cab to squeeze through. He changed into lower gear, moved out into the centre of the road and moved slowly up the steep gradient.
The horns started again.
‘What's their problem?’ he shouted at no one in particular and kept going.
After a couple of tight squeezes and actually grating up against a transit van, he made it to the top of the hill.
‘It’ll be plain sailing now, lad.’ Mike was enjoying himself.
Chris was silent and wide-eyed – either with fear or with excitement – Mike didn’t know which.
They kept going. The road was wider now and steering into the space between traffic became easier. Most drivers seemed to move over to the left when they pulled up, thus leaving a nice gap for his cab. He continued towards Grantham for another mile – through the small village of Gonerby Hill Foot and down the hill.
They both looked down at the town and realised that this snowstorm was severe. A blizzard was blowing furiously across the valley, and nothing appeared to be moving. Visibility was poor, but it was clear that traffic had come to a complete stop. Many of the vehicles they had passed had been abandoned and the occupants had probably struck out for home or other convenient shelter. Mike wondered how far they would get. His answer soon came as the cab was suddenly confronted with a large furniture van lying across the road on its side.
Mike reacted quickly and slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The wagon slid the last ten metres and smacked into the roof of the van.
Luckily they were only going about ten miles per hour, so both he and Chris were unharmed, but their joy-ride in the wagon was over.
‘Well, that’ll be that,’ said Mike.
‘What shall we do now? I know, we can walk the rest – it's only a few hundred metres to my gran’s house. We can make it, easy,’ Chris pleaded.
‘Not easy, lad, but we can certainly give it a damned good go.’
The pair ensured that they were wrapped up warm and after Mike had checked Chris was ready, they had a last swig of the hot chocolate. Mike stuffed the flask into his coat and they jumped down into the snowy maelstrom.
The weather was truly dreadful. The wind was whipping up the snow viciously and conditions were the worst either of them had ever experienced. They could see no one, and they suspected that they were invisible to anyone else. It was clearly every man for himself.
Mike grabbed Chris by the hand and pulled him towards Grantham. Mike had checked his SatNav and he reckoned that they had about eight hundred metres to cover until they reached the house they were heading for. Chris had described it as being just past the Kings Hotel. They could probably make it with a bit of luck and determination.
They plodded on slowly for about thirty minutes without seeing anyone. Verbal communication was all but impossible; however the wind was at their backs – so that helped a bit – but it was still hard going. Mike clung on to Chris’s hand for grim death. He was determined to escort the boy to safety.
Then suddenly, out of the murk, came the lights of the hotel. Not far now. They were looking for house No.124, so Mike trudged towards the first building in the terrace and saw that it was No.156. He calculated that there were sixteen houses to pass, so they had about one hundred and fifty metres still to cover.
He was all but dragging the boy by now. It was freezing and he would need to get Chris into shelter very soon. They passed No.130 and Mike looked ahead and gratefully glimpsed No.124 emerge from the whiteout. There was no front drive or porch, so Mike pounded on the door whilst drawing Chris close.
No reply. He knocked again and looked for a buzzer, which he found and pressed.
No reply.
‘Shit,’ he grunted.
He pounded as hard as he could for about two minutes – but nobody responded. He looked down as Chris, who was fading fast. He needed to get the boy inside PDQ. He was wasting his time here. Mike would have to keep knocking at houses until someone answered and let them in.
He went next door and tried again. Still no joy.
He tried the next house and the next – and the next – but nobody was responding. Was anybody in anywhere?
‘Where the hell is everyone?’ he shouted at nobody in particular.
He turned towards the next house and crashed into a large snow covered object and they both fell to the ground. A woman knelt down and grabbed hold of Chris –
‘Let's get them inside - quickly!’ ordered a man’s voice.
Day 2 – Junction 60, A1(M), near Hartlepool – 12 Noon
Keith Lomax stood at the window of the vehicle lying in the ditch. He and the rest of his crew had been called out at 7.45am from their fire station near Sedgefield. The snow was causing chaos and dozens of small accidents had been called in, so most of the stations in the county were stretched to breaking point. Keith’s frozen crew had been one of the first to be called out and were now inescapably wedged in stationary traffic about a mile from the Junction 60 turn off.
He looked through the window of the ov
erturned Volvo and at the woman lying within. She was clearly dead so he moved onto the next car. They had already managed to free twenty-seven people this morning, but that in itself was now causing a problem. The weather conditions were abysmal and the rescue crew had nowhere to keep the victims warm and dry. They were now crammed into the two ambulances and three fire engines spaced at intervals down the hard shoulder of the motorway. There was no more room, and the fire fighters themselves were starting to show signs of severe fatigue and exposure.
He approached the next car which was skewed off the road and had its nose in the ditch. He looked inside and saw that the vehicle was empty. Keith was tired and hungry and cold – very cold – so he took the opportunity to shelter for a few minutes. He forced the snow aside, managed to open the car door and jumped in. There was no ignition key so he couldn’t start the engine and get some heat going. So he just sat and took solace in the fact that he was out of the wind and snow for the first time in three or four hours.
He was shivering violently and it took about ten minutes before he started to feel a bit better. He thought that he’d better get back to his tender but thought again when he looked through the windscreen. A genuine blizzard was raging outside. Just a few minutes more, he thought and closed his eyes.
Keith never re-opened his eyes. No one ever came to find him. No one even missed him – his colleagues were all in the same boat – trying to survive in dreadful conditions. Keith, like many thousands of motorists that day, just perished sitting in a stranded vehicle.
Day 2 – Walthamstow, East London – 12 Noon
Naomi Old had been teaching for about two years and had really settled into her job as a nursery teacher. She loved her group of five year-olds and was really settled and happy. Perhaps that’s why she set off to work that morning – even though the weather was very poor. She had dressed warmly and had even dug out a pair of her sister’s snow boots from under the stairs. Naomi walked to school as she always did, and it took about twenty-five minutes as opposed to the usual fifteen.
When she arrived, she found that only a handful of staff were at the school. The head teacher met her in the vestibule and spoke firmly.
‘Naomi, what are you doing here? The school is closed and all the teachers are being sent home. We have re-called the parents of those children already dropped off and once they have gone I’ll be closing the doors. Didn’t you see the news this morning?’
Naomi stared at him and then at the four young children waiting behind him. Two were crying. Naomi took off her gloves and hat.
‘What about the children? Who’s looking after them till their parents come back? It's freezing in here – what's happened to the heating?’
The Head glanced at the children.
‘It's alright, I can look after them – you just get off.’
Naomi was having none of it.
‘I don't think so! I’ll get these four somewhere warmer whilst you sort out the heating. You cannot just leave them to fend for themselves.’
‘Their parents will be here in a jiffy,’ retorted the Head with irritation growing in his tone. However Naomi was becoming impatient with her boss.
‘Have you seen the weather outside? It could be ages before they get back – even if they know to come back at all!’ she insisted.
‘Ok, Ok, you take them away and I’ll try to sort this heating out. The rest of the staff are going home except for Arthur, the caretaker. He’s outside turning people away and keeping the entrance clear.’
Naomi gathered up the children and led them down the corridor to the staffroom. It was just as cold in there so she turned round and walked into the nurse’s office. It was smaller and slightly warmer, and there was a stock of blankets lying on the examination platform. Naomi lifted each child onto the bed, wrapped a blanket around each one and encouraged them to huddle together. They were already dressed in hats, scarves and coats so the blankets would be an added extra in their struggle to keep warm.
Naomi searched round the office and found a small electric fan heater. She quickly plugged it in, turned it onto high, and directed it at the children by placing it on the nurse’s desk. She slid the desk towards the children so that the full effect of the small heater was being directed at the shivering infants.
‘Come on, children, mummy will soon be here. Cuddle up together and you’ll keep warmer’.
Naomi jumped up onto the bed and placed two children either side of her and pulled them close. She then waited.
She hoped that their parents would arrive soon and get the children home safely. She also hoped that the Head could get the heating working. The small fan heater was helping, but not much. It was getting colder and as she looked out of the window, the snow seemed to be falling more heavily.
She tried to cheer up the children by telling them stories and singing the odd song, but they were plainly distressed and were too young to react positively. She couldn’t believe that their parents had abandoned them at the school in such poor weather.
Naomi contemplated leaving the children to check on the Headmasters’ progress. After an hour she made to move away from the children. Although two were asleep, the other two objected violently and Naomi was forced to stay put.
Another thirty minutes passed and then the lights went out, and with that, the heater stopped running.
‘Damn’ she mouthed. Now she would have to go and find the head. However, she got the same desperate reaction from the children.
What should she do?
She decided that she would have to take them with her. She gathered them up one by one and placed them on the floor. She made them hold hands, grabbed the lead child by the arm, and opened the nurses’ door.
She was certainly not prepared for what she found. A fire had broken out and flames were licking along the corridor.
She screamed – ‘Headmaster, help, is there anyone there?’
There was nothing but silence and the crackling of flames.
Again she cried out, ‘Help, help, it's Naomi and four children in the nurse’s room. Help! Is there anybody there?’
But nobody responded and the flames crept closer.
She turned around and pulled the children back into the nurse’s room. There was no other escape – it was at the end of a cul-de-sac. She slammed the door shut, grabbed a blanket and stuffed it on the floor at the base of the door to prevent smoke seeping in.
She rushed to the window and tried to open it. Unfortunately, anti-burglary locks prevented that course of action. She didn’t have a key or have a clue where it might be.
The children were now bawling with terror.
She had to save them.
She moved the infants to the back of the room, pulled the desk in front of them and got them to huddle down behind it.
There wasn’t much time now. She had to smash an escape route through the window.
She grabbed hold of the nurses’ sturdy wooden chair, lifted it above her head, and hurled it against the window.
However, one of the problems with modern Britain is that excessive crime means that excessive security measures have to be taken, especially in schools. Not only did the window have security locks but was also reinforced with wire.
The chair bounced off the window, barely scratching it, and hit Naomi on the rebound, squarely in the face.
She dropped like a stone, unconscious.
Mercifully, the smoke suffocated the children and Naomi before the flames reached them.
Day 2 – Exeter, Devon – 12 Noon
There wouldn’t be any football tonight – that was for sure. So why was the bloody manager insisting that everyone still go into the ground. The weather was dreadful and there was no chance of even organising a decent training session.
Stuart Thomson played in goal for Exeter City and he was in the middle of a lucrative move up the leagues to Premier League side Burnley. Stuart had been progressing well, and had gone from obscurity in non-league football to the Premi
ership in less than two years. Many of the bigger Premier League scouts had been watching him, but he had been assessed as ‘not quite ready’ for the really big time. Therefore, he was happy to join the Clarets on a two year deal at £10,000 per week, which was a small fortune to him. Burnley were well up the league and if they reached Europe he could expect an even bigger payday. Furthermore, he would be on display to the bugger Premier league clubs every week. Happy days lay ahead for Stuart.
However, he was unhappy about having to drag himself into the club on a day like this. He really didn’t think that his little Mercedes sports car could even make the trip. Stuart lived with his partner in a small village eight miles from the ground and he would need to negotiate some dodgy back roads if he was to get to Exeter in one piece.
Snow! The Series [Books 1-4] Page 11