At that point the lights suddenly came on – went off – and then came back on again. Brady heard his landline answerphone reset and immediately handed Chris the handset.
‘OK, you two. Make your calls. I’m going to take a trip up to Chris’s grans and check out the situation. What number did you say it was, Chris?’
‘It's number 124, and please try to find them if you can. By the way, gran keeps a key at the back under a large red pot. You can get into the back garden by the side passage.’
Brady nodded encouragingly and went downstairs to get appropriately dressed for the weather. He heard Chris dialling and then hanging up after leaving a message on an answer phone. When he was fully kitted out ‘a la German Snow Survival School’, he yelled up to Jane and Chris that he was leaving and would be back in an hour – no later than 4.30pm. Finally, he shouted up a warning -
‘For God’s sake – don’t go out. If I don’t come back, stick it out here as best you can. Bye. I shouldn’t be long.’
Brady opened the front door and braced himself for the storm. As it happened, it wasn’t as bad as earlier and he had no real trouble turning the lock. He made a mental note for the future to have a Yale lock fitted so that he could slam the door shut without the necessity to use a key every time. Anyway, he turned and walked slowly and carefully up the road. He knew No. 124 and realised that it would take about five minutes in this snow to reach the old lady’s house. There were a few other people on the pathway braving the storm, as the wind had dropped slightly and he passed two men pulling a child on a sled. He ignored them and continued up the road.
He was then profoundly shaken by the next sight.
Lying, covered in snow, in the porch of a terraced house was a body. Left to lie where he or she fell. He now knew that the situation was really bad – perhaps beyond immediate salvation. If the authorities could not cope with this level of chaos, then, if it didn’t stop snowing soon, the country was probably doomed.
In that moment, he made a critical decision. He wasn’t going to capitulate that easily. He’d fight the snow to the very end. Moreover, that meant getting away from Grantham. However, his next move would have to wait – firstly he had to get to the house up ahead.
Brady could barely make out the house numbers but managed to find No.124 without further incident. He knocked and rang the bell. No answer. He tried again, pounding as hard as he could on the front door, but there came no reply. Then he remembered Chris’s advice about the back door key. He glanced left and right and saw the side passage. He quickly stepped into the welcome shelter it provided and made his way to the back gate. Snow was drifting up against it, so it was tricky to push open. He gave a great shove and it opened about a foot. He kicked at the door a bit more and created a gap wide enough to slip through. The red pot was covered in snow but the key was safe and sound underneath. He turned the key in the back door and let himself in. It was warm and the lights were on.’
‘Hello, hello, anybody in?’ Brady yelled. He was technically trespassing, so he needed to be cautious. If the old woman was in, he might scare the living daylights out of her!
However, there was only silence.
He repeated his call. Nothing.
So he wandered through the kitchen into the front room.
He called again, this time much louder. Nothing.
He climbed upstairs and repeated his greeting as he searched the house. There was no one home. Brady went back downstairs to have a good look around. The kettle was cold and there was no sign of anyone about. Then he saw the note - under a cup on the kitchen table. He picked it up and read the scribbled contents.
‘David, I’m going into Grantham to get a bus out to Frieston. Chris’s mum is stuck there in her car, and has just phoned to say that Chris is on his way here. I’m going to find Mary. Chris knows where the key is. I’ll see you later. Susan xx.’
‘Oh, hell,’ Brady mouthed. There was no point staying here any longer. Chris’s mum and gran were in deep, deep trouble and there was nothing to be done for them in the immediate future. He turned round, opened the back entrance and left. Brady momentarily considered ransacking the larder, but thought better of it. He could always return if the situation became more desperate. So he closed and locked the door and replaced the key under the pot. The trudge back to his own house was straightforward enough, but he couldn’t help but stare at the frozen body still lying in the doorway.
‘Lucky bastard. At least you're out of it,’ he thought – a tad cynically.
The wind had picked up again as Brady reached his front door and entered. He removed his outer clothing and carefully hung it up over radiators to dry it through. He was surprised and pleased that the power was still on. Hopefully, Jane and Chris would have completed their phone calls – and put their mobile phones back on charge.
When he entered the sitting room, Jane was sitting on the sofa, sobbing.
‘Her mum and dad are dead,’ blurted out Chris.
‘Oh, dear God. Jane, I'm so sorry. What happened? The snow I presume?’
‘You presume right, Mr Wing Commander! They were in a car crash fifty metres from where they live. A lorry jack-knifed. They didn’t know what hit them. My brother just told me. He’s stuck at work and can't get home. The police called him there early this morning. I think that they are still in the wreckage. The bloody ambulance can't get there because of this FUCKING SNOW!’ Jane was clearly inconsolable.
She started crying again as Brady sat down and put his arms around her. There was little he could do to comfort her, and for a few brief seconds he let go of his emotions and allowed a few tears to trickle down his cheeks, as he mourned his own family so recently lost in this storm.
He’d almost forgotten Chris who looked despondently at the forlorn couple on the settee.
‘Was my gran at home?’ he asked hopefully.
Brady released Jane and turned to face Chris. He took a deep breath and decided that the boy would have to grow up quickly.
‘She wasn’t there, Chris. She left a note. Here it is. Your gran went out to the Caythorpe area to find your mum after she rang about you. Chris, you have to face the possibility that they are both gone. It's not certain, but it's probable.’
It was a difficult thing to say to a boy of twelve, but even harder for a boy of twelve to take in and accept.
‘No, you're wrong, she’s not dead! She’s NOT!’
And with that, he stormed out of the room.
Day 2 – The Royal Family – 6:00pm
Snow does not differentiate between victims.
The Royal Family had, mostly, repaired to Sandringham in Norfolk - for two reasons. Primarily, to informally pre-celebrate the wedding anniversary of the Queen and Prince Phillip and then to enjoy the traditional Royal family Christmas.
The basic idea was to assemble the majority of the family before Christmas, as the Queen was flying to Fiji on a State Visit in January, and would miss the opportunity of celebrating her anniversary on the exact date.
Therefore, members of the Royal family were trickling into Sandringham over the weekend of 13/15th December, anticipating a function sometime in midweek.
Of course, this triggered a huge logistic operation and there were many extra staff required for the Royal shindig. Royal Protection Officers (RPOs) were everywhere and helicopters flitted in and out like cabbage white butterflies.
Just about every major Royal and their children was ensconced in the country retreat by Saturday night and security was tight. Casual staff used for these occasions were on duty for an informal dinner on the Saturday, but by Sunday evening, many had left for their own homes and families in the local villages, on the estate and nearby towns.
The RPOs were still in attendance and only regular staff who maintained the kitchens, monitored security, completed routine maintenance and troubleshooting remained.
It started snowing at 6pm on Sunday evening and nobody took much notice until Monday morning, when four inches
of snow covered the grounds of Sandringham. The steady snowfall had by now turned into a full-blown blizzard, and any attempt to evacuate the Royal Party was a definite no-go. Helicopters could not possibly fly in this weather and motor vehicles were having severe difficulties manoeuvring up to the house. Surrounding roads were fast becoming impassable and many casual day staff had not been able to report for work.
Consequently, the night staff had to cope with breakfast and although they didn’t mind, of course, they too, wanted to return home to their families.
The Royal Protection Officers certainly had their work cut out. They were doubling up as household staff – as, not unnaturally, the senior police officer had decided that external security was not really required – the weather was clearly too bad.
In fact, the weather here in Norfolk mirrored that across the country. Her Majesty and the other Royals were following events closely on television and when HM received a phone call from the new PM at around 12.45pm, she was shocked to learn of the terrible state that the country was in.
She and the others, including the police officers watched the Prime Ministerial broadcast at 2pm with mounting horror. The police at Sandringham quickly realised that they were now responsible for the welfare and future of the Monarchy. The Queen, Charles, William, George, Charlotte, Louis, Harry, The Duke of York and most of the others in direct line to the throne were at Sandringham and as things stood – there was no way out. Surface and aerial transport were impossible and the blizzard outside showed no sign of stalling. In fact, the weathermen were predicting at least a week of snowstorms. As a consequence, a planning and briefing conference was quickly organised and the senior police officers were obliged to give the Royal Party the bad news.
Many of them refused to accept the facts staring them in the face. They seemed to think that the weather would clear sooner rather than later, and that the usual top priority rescue would take place - PDQ. (Pretty Damned Quickly).
It required a very forceful Prince Charles to stand and underline the police point of view to his relatives. The simple truth was that no one was coming to rescue them. For a start, there was nowhere to be evacuated to! The whole country was facing a survival situation and the Royal Family would – for once – have to cope on their own. The staff still on duty were informed and persuaded (ordered) to stay put. Indeed, they could not have withdrawn from the house and have expected to survive. Of course, a couple did try to sneak out, but were back inside ten minutes, half-frozen to death and apologising guiltily.
After a while, the truth of the situation kicked in and HM handed over responsibility for their survival to the RPOs – lock, stock and barrel, with Charles as a linkman.
There were forty-six members of the Royal Family and twenty-seven staff (from across the three household branches) plus fifty-eight police officers. One hundred and thirty one souls in all - and in common with every other soul in the Kingdom, they were up against it.
To be fair, the Royals mucked in and did more or less what they were told. The D of E was his usual cantankerous self, but his good sense of humour kept everyone amused and distracted the majority from their plight. The RPOs doubled up the sleeping arrangements as much as possible. They moved children in with parents and forced everyone to congregate in the same ante-room. Of course, the house had back-up generators and stocks of food and fuel to last about a month – so if they were careful, they should get out of this alive.
This was the hope of the PPO, or Principal Protection Officer, as he set his survival plan in motion. He only hoped that there were no hidden surprises. He also hoped that the supplies of fuel and food were in place. Without them, there could be a disaster of terrible proportions. He would have to handle the household staff very carefully, as their co-operation would be vital to everyone’s survival. There was a very senior Royal Household manager in situ – so he would be co-ordinating staff issues. The police officer’s job was to maintain discipline and get the Royal Family to co-operate when and if the going got tough.
And it certainly would present challenges never faced before.
Day 2 – Belfast, Northern Ireland – 3:00pm
The MacDougals, Stephen and Olivia, had their two grandchildren staying with them and were looking forward to spending a family Christmas together for the first time in several years. The children’s parents worked abroad and the previous three Christmasses had been a disappointment. However, this year the family was together and everyone was looking forward to the festivities.
The snow didn’t reach Northern Ireland until nearly a day later than the rest of the UK. The low-pressure over the Atlantic was the final piece of the fatal jigsaw to fall into place.
Consequently, they had watched the news of terrible snowstorms on the mainland with a degree of relief – and were almost convinced that bad weather would never reach Northern Ireland at all. Belfast was cloudy but clear on the Monday morning, so the MacDougals decided to carry on with their plans for the children. Today involved a trip to the cinema Multiplex on the city outskirts, followed by a pizza and some late shopping. With no snow falling at all, they saw no reason to be cautious.
The family of four left in the grandparent’s car and arrived at the cinema around midday. The film was a new children’s feature called ‘Toy Story 6,’ and they were all looking forward to watching it. What Olivia didn’t notice was the flake of snow which settled on her shoulder and quickly melted as she entered the Multiplex.
All were comfortably seated with popcorn, chocolates and drinks by 12.30pm, ready for the film to start. It was an amusing film and the MacDougals spent a couple of pleasant hours enjoying the family entertainment.
When the feature finished they rose from their seats and made for the exit at the rear of the cinema. However, an usher was guarding the door, keeping it closed, and was directing the audience to the main exits. So, they all trooped out of the screening room and along the internal corridor back to the foyer.
Shock and dismay overcame the grandparents as they surveyed the scene. The foyer was packed with people of all ages – all staring out of the windows at the front entrance.
Outside, a snowstorm of horrendous proportions was in progress. The wind was drifting against the doors making it almost impossible to exit. Consequently, most people were just milling around, wondering what to do next. The majority were dressed in light winter anoraks or coats. Many had no hat, gloves or scarf.
Stephen MacDougal looked out of the window and realised that if they wanted to get home today, they should make a move as soon as possible. He advised Olivia to call their son at his home to let him know that they would be delayed somewhat. He then dressed as warmly as he could, borrowing a scarf from his wife, and prepared to go outside.
‘I’m going to get the car. I’ll clear it of snow, drive around to the front entrance and pick you up. I’ve seen several vehicles doing the same. I shouldn’t be long – about fifteen minutes I reckon. Get yourselves near to the front entrance and be ready. I don’t want to hang around too long,’ he warned.
After saying his farewells to the children – who were quite excited by the snow – Stephen walked to the front doors and squeezed out into the blizzard. Visibility was poor. Less than ten metres he reckoned, and because of the wind, he had to keep his head down. He kept as close to the cinema wall as possible to maximise shelter from the weather.
A few other hardy souls had also decided to risk the storm and make their escape, so he tucked himself behind a large heavily coated man just ahead of him. He didn’t think the man was even aware of his presence as the snowfall was so thick. So Stephen kept his head down trying to sense the man’s path, rather than watch it too closely. They followed the wall around the cinema building and down some steps towards the car park. Stephen had a rough idea of where his car was and was quite confident that he could locate it quickly. It was in a central position fairly close to the Multiplex. He had his car keys firmly in his right hand, which was deep in his anorak pock
et. He didn’t want to have to waste time fumbling and searching for the keys at the car. He would doubtless have to get inside quickly to try to warm up a bit.
As he reached the end of the Multiplex wall he had to manoeuvre down some steps which he did successfully and was quietly congratulating himself when – Bang! – Stephen smacked headlong into a lamp-post.
His head, being bent forward against the wind, took the full brunt of the collision and he dropped into the snow like a stone. He didn’t even have time to get his hands out of his pockets to parry the fall. However, he had fallen into about three inches of snow, so the impact was not too bad. He hit the floor and rolled to the side of the path. Automatic reactions caused him to grab his head to check for damage. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad. He sat up and took a deep breath. Although his head throbbed, he wasn’t dizzy at all and soon realised that he had been relatively lucky. As he sat in the snow recovering his senses several people walked past – and didn’t even see him – either that or they were ignoring his plight. Anyway, he knew that he must get up as quickly as possible –with or without assistance - and struggle to the car as Olivia and the children would be waiting anxiously.
Snow! The Series [Books 1-4] Page 18