Season's Meetings

by Amy Dunne

  There was an edge of growing hysteria to Holly’s tone. Catherine reached out and took hold of her hands, giving them a fierce squeeze. “We’re in this t-together. You and me.” Startled, Holly held her gaze. “We have to b-be strong for one another. No one is g-going to rescue us. No one knows where we are and w-we can’t tell them. We’re going to have to r-rescue ourselves. Okay?” Catherine watched as a few tears leaked from Holly’s eyes and her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. “H-Holly, okay?”

  Holly gave a weak nod.

  Adrenaline coursed through Catherine’s veins. She ground her teeth and fought against the throbbing pain from her forehead. “G-go on.” Holly turned the key. The engine choked and the lights flickered as the power wavered.

  Acid scorched the back of Catherine’s throat causing another wave of nausea. Was she wrong? Should they stay put? If the engine died and they lost power there would be no chance of survival.

  Holly tried again and this time the lights and power cut out completely. Plunged into darkness yet again, Catherine could only make out Holly’s shape but no distinguishing features. Desperate terror radiated off her.

  With only a few seconds without the heat, the temperature in the car had already dropped significantly. In a matter of minutes they would be at risk of the bitter cold seeping into the car. The prospect of freezing to death seemed horrendously possible. What had she done?

  Holly turned the key again, but only a weak wheezing sounded from the engine.

  “Come on, you bastard!” Holly said, her voice hoarse and full of frustration. Her hands pummelled the steering wheel and the car rocked slightly as she jumped up and down in her chair.

  “Holly—” Catherine said, but was interrupted as Holly twisted the key again, this time rewarded with a heartier chug of the engine.

  “Come on, baby. Come on,” Holly said. She bowed her head as if almost in prayer. “Please.”

  The engine stuttered for a few milliseconds and then came to life with a tremendous revving. A stream of warm air began to circulate again, taking the edge off the chill. The windscreen wipers at the front and back of the car began swiping at the heavy snow. It took a while, but eventually, the snow started to clear and what lay on the other side became visible.

  At first Catherine questioned if it was night because of the darkness, but glancing back at the rearview window showed the world outside remained greyish white. A few seconds later, the last of the compacted snow was swept away from Catherine’s side and the cause of the darkness made sense. A large tree had stopped their descent.

  “R-reverse,” Catherine said. She clicked in the buckle to her seat belt and braced herself for whatever would happen next.

  Holly moved the gearstick and applied pressure to the accelerator until she found the biting point. Turning to look over her shoulder, she released the handbrake. The car began to slowly reverse. An awful metallic screeching filled the air as the bonnet tried to rip itself from the bark of the tree. Holly accelerated, and the back of the car began to climb higher. They reversed maybe a foot up the slope before their progress came to a halt. Holly applied a little more power, but they moved nowhere.

  “Come on!” Holly said. Her expression showed steely determination as she flatfooted the pedal. The revving and screech of the wheels was almost deafening, but the car remained static, apart from a bit of bobbing up and down and sliding slightly to the left.

  Holly gradually took her foot off the accelerator and applied the handbrake. Once again, the brake lost out to snow and gravity. The car slid back down and bumped the tree again with an audible thud.

  Something was blocking their ascent. There was no choice. Catherine would have to go investigate. She unbuckled herself, removed her trainers, and started the wearisome task of forcing her overlarge feet into the small wellies.

  “You can’t go out in the middle of a blizzard, Catherine,” Holly said. She looked genuinely horrified by the idea.

  “N-need to c-check wheels.” Catherine made stabbing gestures as she pointed downward, trying to distract attention away from her stutter. A potent mixture of humiliation and frustration warmed her cheeks. The last thing she needed on top of all of this was not being able to speak properly. It made communication difficult and affected her self-confidence. Most likely, it made Holly feel the same.

  “I’ll go instead—”

  “N-no.” Catherine cut her off with an aggressive shaking of her head and thumbed her chest. Holly shrank back a little in her seat. She looked like she wanted to argue, but bit down on her bottom lip instead.

  Catherine’s feet felt like they’d been painfully bound, and she emitted a fleeting sympathetic thought for the poor Chinese women who had endured a permanent version of this torture. She pulled on her coat, followed by her new hat, and then fumbled for a little while inserting batteries into the new torch. Testing it proved it worked fine.

  Holly silently presented Catherine with her own thick purple scarf. Catherine nodded her appreciation and wrapped it around her neck, mouth, and nose. It smelled of Holly—earthy with a hint of spicy sweetness. Glad the scarf hid the flush creeping up her neck, she zipped up her coat, pulled the hood over her hat-covered head, and tugged the drawstrings so only a slit for her glasses remained. Finally, she pulled on her new gloves, grateful they were thick and warm. With her torch in hand, she prepared herself for venturing outside.

  “Wait a minute,” Holly said urgently. She rummaged behind her seat and produced a roll of gold glittery ribbon. “Just in case you get disorientated or lose your way, we’ll wrap this around one of your wrists and then you’ll be able to follow it and find your way back to the car.”

  Catherine held out her left arm, and Holly found the loose end of the festive ribbon and began wrapping it around her wrist. Although her coat was thick and the gloves were big, she eventually began to feel a light restriction from the ribbon, enough to let her know it was there. After a few more loops, Holly tied a knot and unravelled a few meters in preparation.

  “Be careful,” Holly said. With a sniffle, she lunged forward, pulling Catherine into a tight embrace.

  Padded by so many heavy layers, Catherine resented not being able to feel the press of Holly’s body against hers. It seemed wholly unfair. Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep up the pretence of bravery. In reality she was crapping herself.

  Her cowardice—she was under no illusions about what it was—had always been masked by her declaration of being overcautious. She’d never been moved to do anything overtly brave or truly altruistic, believing it wasn’t in her nature and finding it best to leave it to others more capable than herself. Did that make her selfish? Yes, but it had also kept her relatively safe until now.

  She’d also never taken a real interest in the big outdoors, preferring to be inside with her nose stuck between the dusty pages of one book or another. At school she’d always had an excuse ready so she could skive off PE, especially when it came to orienteering or cross-county running. While her peers had trundled through thick mud, usually while it was wet and cold, she’d happily taken herself off to the library.

  There was a reassuring safety that accompanied books. They allowed her to explore an infinite number of places and possibilities without ever having to put herself in danger. And if things ever got a little too scary or wildly adventurous she could skip some pages or leave the book unfinished. It was a shame she’d never taken a keener interest in survival stories. And yet at this precise moment in time, an overwhelming desire to do everything in her power to keep Holly safe took precedence over everything else. Risking her own life wasn’t exactly appealing, but it was a sacrifice she’d make without a second thought to protect Holly or die trying.

  Spurred on, she pulled the handle and pushed the door. Nothing happened. Edging closer to the door, she pulled the handle again, and this time shoved with the full weight of her body. She met resistance. As a painful twinge stabbed her neck, a loud creaking came from the door before it
gave way and flung open.

  Bitter cold unlike anything she had ever known engulfed her. Fog clouding her lenses rendered her immediately blind. Stumbling forward in nearly knee-deep snow, she clambered out of the car and tried to mostly close the door for Holly’s sake, leaving it slightly open to prevent the ribbon from getting trapped.

  With limited dexterity from her gloved hands, she tried to clear the lenses of her glasses. Icy stings and talons descended, pricking the bare and lightly covered flesh on her face. An unrelenting coldness seeped into her body as if she were naked, despite the layers of clothing. Freezing breath caught in the back of her throat, and when she managed to draw another breath, it burned her chest and caused a coughing fit.

  The strength of the storm’s gale shoved her against the car; the snowflakes were so dense and remorseless, she feared she might suffocate. Turning away from the elements, she made out the tyre on her side. A large groove of ice cupped the tyre like a bowl. She trudged forward as the snow and wind battered her and found the back tyre was in the same state.

  There was no way the car was going to make it back up the slope because the condensed snow had turned to thick ice, which wouldn’t allow for grip of traction. They were completely and utterly stuck.

  Shielding the right side of her face with her hand, she tried to look up and gauge how far from the road they’d travelled. Only managing to make out two feet in front of her gave no clues other than more of a slope and plenty more snow.

  Unable to stand another second of the cold, she made her way back to the door by feeling along the side of the car. On her third attempt, the wind dropped off enough for her to pry the door open. She dove inside, and the door slammed behind her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  She would never be warm again.

  The cold had buried deep into her core, crystallising the marrow of her bones. After half an hour of trying to defrost inside the car, she was too far gone to even recall a memory of heat. Her body shivered uncontrollably, while her teeth rattled in her skull. On inspection, her hands were red raw and the tips of her fingers tinted with blue. She returned them to the protection of her insulated gloves and tucked them under her armpits.

  On her request, Holly had raided her suitcase and Catherine was now wearing every item of clothing she’d packed, including the previously worn socks from the day before. She had never worn so many layers before, and yet if she had access to more clothes she would have donned those, too. Holly’s suitcase was trapped in the car’s boot but she claimed she was warm enough. Catherine didn’t believe her and was keeping a close eye on her.

  Since her return to the car, Holly had been nursing her. She’d helped pull off the wellies, retrieved the clothes, turned away when Catherine had needed privacy, and helped untangle some of the clothing that had gotten bunched up around her shoulders. She’d made a snowpack using a plastic bag and a large handful of snow and insisted Catherine keep it pressed against the lump on her forehead.

  Secretly, Catherine thoroughly enjoyed having the attention showered upon her. Through disjointed sentences caused partly by her chattering teeth but also by her stutter, she finally managed to relay the disturbing news that they were going nowhere. They were stranded in the snowstorm from hell. But they had shelter and heat while in the car and two-thirds of the tank of petrol left. Holly had switched off the wipers to conserve energy.

  They had to be careful they didn’t get snowed in. Catherine was going to have to brave the elements for a couple of minutes every hour or so to clear her doorway, a prospect she loathed.

  As for provisions, they had the water she’d purchased at the petrol station and, as Holly pointed out, an endless supply of snow should they run out. They briefly skirted around the uncomfortable subject of keeping hydrated while not overdoing it. Having to relieve oneself outside during a blizzard was a little too distressing to ponder. The lack of food was a concern as the large pack of crisps, sweets, and half pack of breath mints wouldn’t keep their hunger at bay for long. But the biggest worry was the prospect of subzero temperatures they’d have to face during the night. For the time being, Catherine kept this fear to herself.

  “I could eat a s-scabby horse,” Catherine said. She wondered if hunger pains would eventually take over from all the other complaints sounding from her body.

  “I’m so stupid,” Holly said. She climbed into the back passenger compartment. After a lot of rustling she offered out a brown cardboard box.

  Catherine dropped the dripping snowpack into the door’s empty side compartment before taking hold of the box and studying the top. An elegant purple rectangle with the single word Indulgence printed across the centre in silver ink. Before she could open it up, Holly passed her another two boxes: one the same size as the first and another smaller in size but heavier in weight. Balancing the tower of boxes in her lap, she used both hands to try to prevent them falling. She’d no choice but to wait for Holly to return before she could peruse the contents of the boxes. The smells drifting up made her stomach growl.

  “This is the last one,” Holly said. She placed another box on top of the previous three.

  Unable to see behind her, Catherine had to make do with listening to and trying to discern what Holly was up to now. Huffed, oddly sexual sounding groans stood out over familiar rustling and zipping noises, zapping Catherine with a wholly inappropriate twinge of arousal.

  “Mustn’t forget these,” Holly said. She leant into the front compartment and dropped a bundle of what looked like knitted wool on her seat. For the next few minutes, she continued to rustle in the back stopping only to drop a few more items on her seat.

  Hitting her head, Holly swore as she clambered back into the front of the car. She narrowly avoided knocking the boxes out of Catherine’s hands while grabbing the items off her seat. Full arms made her movements cumbersome in the small space. Her backside honked the horn five times before she finally sat down.

  “We need to put more layers on, and these will be perfect.” Holly held up a thick green knitted woollen jumper large enough to quite possibly fit them both inside. “This one is for you.” She grinned.

  Catherine was too cold to bother thinking about a potential fashion faux pas. The jumper looked warm. It was only when Holly turned the jumper around that Catherine realised she’d been shown the plain back. Staring at her now with unblinking eyes was the cartoonish head of a huge knitted reindeer. Rudolph, if the bulbous red nose was anything to go by.

  Before she could speak, Holly showed off the next knitted woollen jumper in her collection. This one was red and had a Christmas pudding on the front. The next one was blue with a lopsided Christmas tree and a large wonky star. But the last one was the worst of the bunch. The mustard-coloured jumper had an evil-looking snowman on the front.

  Catherine folded her arms. “N-no way.”

  Holly’s grin faltered and her eyebrows knitted together. “It’s freezing and these are warm. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “They’re horrendous,” Catherine said without a hint of a stutter. Apparently, her subconscious agreed enough to not interrupt her. Holly’s mouth formed a thin line and two pink spots coloured her cheeks.

  “I’ll have you know, I knitted these jumpers myself. They’re not amazing by some people’s standards, but I invested a lot of time and an awful lot of effort into knitting them.”

  Catherine was rendered speechless. The jumpers were truly awful, and wearing one would be embarrassing, but to relieve the hurt expression on Holly’s face, she’d do just about anything. Keeping the boxes balanced in her lap without the aid of her hands, she reached out for the Rudolph jumper.

  Holly’s face lit up. “There are two each. Which other one do you want?”

  Not daring to risk causing more offence, Catherine pointed unenthusiastically at the red jumper with the Christmas pudding on the front.

  A little while later she sat shrouded by both jumpers, feeling warmer. Holly pulled both of her jumpers on, too, choosing
to hide the mustard one beneath the blue. In Catherine’s opinion, she looked cute.

  “I’ve found some painkillers. They might help with your head.” Holly tossed the plastic strip over. “I also found a lighter and some crayons in case we end up without light.”

  Catherine swallowed two of the tablets, narrowly avoided choking. The lighter might be useful, but what were the crayons for? Writing a last will and testament on the dashboard? Drawing in the dark?

  “I read somewhere a crayon can burn up to an hour, and these are jumbo so they’ll probably last a bit longer.” With the lighter resting on top of the pack, Holly placed them in the central compartment. “I’m sure Florence won’t begrudge us using them.”

  Catherine felt suitably berated and a little in awe of Holly’s resourcefulness. First the ribbon, then the jumpers, and now the crayons. Above anything, she was eager to discover the contents of the boxes. “Can we open the b-boxes?”

  “Of course.” Holly smiled shyly. “You do the honours. I’m afraid none of the contents are particularly healthy, though.”

  Catherine all but ripped the first lid open. Her gaze fell over an array of foil-lined individual pies. Some had a pastry apple on the top, while the others had a star.

  “Apple and mince pies,” Holly said.

  Catherine passed her the box, and Holly replaced the lid before resting it in her lap.

  The second box contained a large iced Christmas cake, decorated with festive ribbon, a little Santa, and a tree figurine. A strong smell of brandy pleasantly tickled Catherine’s nose.

  Catherine handed the second box to Holly so she could focus on the unopened ones. The next box had the most incredible looking and smelling brownies.

  “Triple chocolate,” Holly said. “I know they’re not a festive staple, but they’re too delicious to miss out.”