Cold

  "This cut isn't too large. Not bleeding much now. I've seen worse on a hockey pitch; bloody Bunty Adams caught me on the ear in 1958 - never been the same since." She chuckled at her own joke and left the two women alone for a moment while she rifled through a drawer. She brought a bottle of antiseptic and couple of clean towels over to them and pressed one on the wound, which had all but stopped bleeding. "How did she do this?" she asked as she poured a drop of antiseptic on the towel and pressed it to the wound.

  Again Rocky winced when she saw her lover's face contort with the pain. "I think she must have hit the car window when we collided with the snow bank."

  "What make of car was it?" Joss peered at the wound, giving Jo a brief smile as she changed the dirty towel for a clean one.

  "Um, Mercedes." Rocky was now undoing Jo's soaking footwear, pulling them off along with the socks.

  "No wonder. Bloody German car. Wouldn't have happened in a Jag." She bent to see into Jo's face. "You hear me, girl? British car next time."

  Jo nodded mutely, wondering who this person was and where in the hell they were.

  "Rocky?" She reached out a hand, relieved to feel it enfolded by her lover's smaller ones.

  "Rocky?" Joss repeated. "Good grief, girl. Who on earth gave you a name like that?"

  "It's a nickname," said Rocky, vigorously rubbing Jo's frozen feet. "My name is Michelle."

  "Ah, much more civilised."

  The dog started barking, jumping up at the door.

  "Jasper, stop that!" Joss walked across the kitchen, peering through the drawn curtains to see outside. "Looks like we've got another visitor." She turned back to them. "Good job I put the kettle on."

  Rocky got up stiffly from her place at Jo's feet. "There's someone out there?"

  "Looks like it, dear." She stood aside and let Rocky peer out into the night.

  The full moon highlighted everything beyond the farmyard, even giving the figure struggling along the same tracks they had made only twenty minutes or so before a long shadow. And there was no mistaking the figure.

  Rocky's chin slumped to her chest, and she turned away from the window. Then she rushed across to Jo, kneeling at her feet. "I have to pop back to the car," she said cupping a still-chilled cheek. "I want you to stay here and keep warm." She leaned forward, her hand going behind Jo's head and tangling in dark hair. Her lips found her lover's and she kissed her long and softly. "I love you, Jo."

  Jo looked confused, and her mouth opened and shut without any words forming.

  "You shouldn't be going out there, dear," said Joss, suddenly realising the nature of the two girls' relationship.

  "Joss, please listen to me. That man is coming here to get me. But I'm scared of what he'll do to her." She looked across at Jo, who was trying focus on them. "So I'm going to try to get out there and lead him away. I've got a cell phone here." She took the phone from her jacket pocket. "I think Jo's got a charger in the car. Hopefully I can get a message out."

  Joss was about to protest but Rocky had already opened the door, closing it quickly after her.

  The cold hit her hard as she stepped into the farmyard. The night was so still she could already hear his laboured breathing as he struggled through the snow. She knew he'd see her immediately in the moonlight, so she ducked down behind a long wall. There was about fifty yards between her and a small clump of trees, and she decided she would make for them.

  As she broke clear of the wall, she saw his head turn in her direction. It was hard pushing through the snow, but she fixed her attention on the trees and only half heard the sound of her uncle as he changed direction and attempted to cut her off.

  "Michelle!" he called, falling headlong into the snow.

  She kept going, glancing back to see him pick himself up and continue towards her. Her chest was hurting, dragging in the frigid air which then plumed into the still night as she exhaled. She fell, her bare hands sinking into the snow, her knees hitting something hard buried beneath the whiteness. She ignored the pain in her legs and dragged herself to her feet again.

  He was close behind her now. She passed the first tree, and was inside the small wooded area. The snow wasn't so thick on the ground here, and she managed to pick up speed. The trees were closely bunched together, and she ran blindly, hearing him curse as his wider frame had more difficulty negotiating his way.

  She suddenly felt something slam into her back just as she cleared the trees. There was a sharp slope and they both tumbled down it, sliding through the snow and onto a relatively hard surface. He had landed a few feet beyond her, and she lay for a moment, staring up at the clear sky, breathing hard. She looked to her left to see him sitting very still, looking at her.

  "Why did you run from me, Michelle?"

  She sat up then stood on shaky legs. "I can't go back with you, Ron. You need to leave me alone."

  "I don't understand." He stood and started to walk towards her, but was stopped by a loud cracking sound.

  They had fallen onto a frozen lake. He was a good fifteen feet further out than Rocky, and had immediately realised their predicament.

  "I can't let you go, Michelle." He said, sliding his foot carefully across the ice.

  "Go back home, Ron. Please. Go back; you have a home and a wife waiting for you."

  "I couldn't make Susan understand," he said, sliding another foot nearer. "She wouldn't listen."

  Rocky backed away, reaching the bank and safety. "Is she alright?"

  "She wouldn't listen, Michelle. I tried to make her understand; she couldn't see what we mean to each other. But it's alright now. She won't come between us again."

  Rocky felt sick, her chest tightened, and she felt the sting of tears. She turned and started to scrabble back up the bank.

  She heard the crack and a splash, and turned to see a hole in the ice where Ron had been. There was no sign of him.

  The suddenly he appeared, just his head and shoulders. He clawed feebly at the ice, trying to get a grip, but being pulled back down into the icy depths by his sodden overcoat.

  "Help me," he gasped.

  Rocky was trembling as she watched the man fight for his life. She took a step back.

  "Please!" he cried, hanging onto the edge of the ice.

  She looked around for anything that she could throw to him. Some rope, or a long branch. There was nothing that she could see.

  She took off the jacket, feeling the cold assault her bare arms, having only a tee shirt on beneath.

  She held onto one jacket sleeve and threw the other towards him. He grasped for it, but it didn't reach him. She edged onto the ice, crawling on it, feeling it through her jeans and against the palms of her hands.

  It gave way, and she found herself up to her thighs in freezing water. Again she threw the jacket towards him, and this time he managed to get a grip on it. She wound the leather sleeve around her hand and pulled back, watching as the man she hated pulled himself from the ice.

  He got his knee onto the edge and was pulling himself up when it collapsed under him once more. He went backwards; the force of his weight disappearing beneath the ice again pulled the sleeve from Rocky's frozen hands.

  She waited for him to reappear.

  He didn't.

  Rocky managed to turn and pull herself out of the water. Then she looked back at the hole in the ice, black and still in the moonlight.

  She started to shake, and suddenly was aware of the awful pain in her legs and hands. She knew she was freezing, and she knew she had to get back to the farmhouse. But her body betrayed her. She crawled on hands and knees up the small slope, collapsing at the top.

  She looked around, trying to get her bearings, but nothing looked familiar. She was tired now, and wanted nothing more than to just sit for a while and get her breath. The adrenaline rush had gone, and there was nothing but exhaustion left in its wake.

  She curled into a ball, and her last thoughts as she drifted off were of her lover.

  Part 22

&n
bsp; Jo watched the fuzzy figure approach. She tried and failed to focus on the person, and the voice when it came was not the one she wanted to hear.

  "Here, drink this tea, dear. You need something warm in you." Joss watched carefully as the younger woman took the mug from her in shaking hands. "Can you manage?"

  "Yes, thanks." Jo took a sip of the warm sweet tea, then looked around through bleary eyes. "Where's Rocky?"

  "She went back to the car." Joss sat in a large, plump chair next to the stove, picking her mug of tea up from the hearth where she'd put it moments before.

  "She what?!" The mug fell to the floor as Jo lurched to her feet.

  For a woman who has seen the top of the hill and is on the way down the other side, as she often put it, Joss managed to move quickly. "Now you sit back down, girl. Your marbles haven't settled yet."

  Jo found herself back in the chair. "It's freezing out there." She cast her blurred vision across the floor, looking for her shoes.

  "Well, she'd seen someone out there, so whoever it was is probably helping her." Joss turned away from Jo and started picking the remains of the mug up from the cold, hard, stone floor.

  "Someone out there?" Jo put the heel of her hand to her forehead, trying to lessen the thumping headache she'd had ever since entering the warm kitchen.

  "Yes, dear," Joss said from the floor. "Said he was coming for her, and something about you. Didn't make much sense." She walked across to a small bin and threw the shards of china into it. "Shall I make you another?" she asked.

  "Joss." Jo struggled to her feet, steadying herself against the table when the floor beneath her apparently shifted. "We need to go out and find her; I think she may be in trouble."

  "We're not going anywhere, dear. We'll wait for her to come back." She tried to push back against the dark-haired woman, but found herself pinned by blue but slightly out of focus eyes.

  "If the man is who I think it is, he raped her when she was fifteen, two weeks after her parents had been killed. Do you really want to wait here while he takes her back with him?" Jo gripped the older woman's shoulders, steadying herself as fear and her injury threatened to take her to the floor.

  "Good grief," said Joss, paling. "She said she didn't know what he'd do to you."

  Jo closed her eyes. "I think he threatened me. He thinks I'd come between them."

  "And you love her very much?"

  Jo's throat tightened, and she could only nod her answer.

  "I'll get you some wellies," said Joss, matter-of-factly.

  She brought Jo a thick pair of socks and a pair of wellington boots. Then she found her a coat and a woollen hat. "Probably not what you're used to, dear, but it'll keep the cold out." She opened a cupboard and pulled out a double-barrelled shotgun. Reaching into a drawer she took a couple of shells from a box. "Haven't used this in a while, but it's been kept clean." She looked up at Jo, who appeared to be shaking her head slightly, trying to clear her vision. "You ever used one?"

  Jo nodded, recognising the sound of a shotgun being loaded. "My parents have pheasant shoots on their estate."

  Joss's head snapped up. "Estate?"

  "Not now, Joss," she said, shrugging into the coat.

  The woman, her curiosity now seriously piqued, called for the small dog, which had been curled up in a basket beside the Aga. "Come on, Jasper," she said, bending and attaching the leash to his collar.

  The animal pulled her towards the door, not caring that the conditions probably would not be comfortable for a midnight walk.

  The door opened, and they were both pleased to find that the wind hadn't picked up and the night was still and calm, the blanket of snow thick and even.

  Jo took a hold of the other woman's coat and followed her out into the darkness.

  Joss didn't make for the field that they had crossed to get to the farmhouse, instead she made her way towards the barn. "Damned if I'm going to be trekking through the bloody snow. We'll get Bessie out."

  Jo was too tired and in too much pain to argue, so she followed where the woman dragged her. The moonlight was enough to see by, and she hauled open the door of the barn.

  Inside, about half a dozen cows regarded them then went back to munching on the feed that was in a long trough along one wall. In the corner a large lump was covered with a tarpaulin. Joss pulled back the tarp to reveal an ancient piece of machinery.

  "This is Bessie," said Joss with a certain amount of pride in her voice. "She'll go through anything."

  Bessie was a twenty-year old Land Rover. She sat for most of the year in the barn, but Joss went out every couple of weeks just to turn the engine over. And a young man came up from the village every six months to check it over.

  "The hunt goes across my land in the summer, and I like to go out and take a look. Haven't been able to participate for a few years now - bloody hip gave out in 1998."

  She loaded Jo into the passenger seat, and Jasper jumped up onto the younger woman's lap.

  Joss started the engine, and switched on the lights, startling some of the cows. "Good girl," said Joss, tapping the steering wheel. Then she drove out of the barn and across the snow-covered courtyard.

  Jo peered out, relieved that her vision appeared to be clearing. "Where do we start?" asked Jo.

  "Well, it's a good clear night, we'll try to find their tracks." She slowed to a halt and leaned across and opened the door beside Jo. "Go on Jasper," she said, and the small dog leaped out of the car, almost disappearing in the deep snow.

  "Is that a good idea?" asked Jo, watching as the dog disappeared and then reappeared a few feet away.

  "He loves the snow. If there's anything out there out of the ordinary, he'll find it."

  They watched the dog for a moment, easily making out his dark form in the moonlight. He found the tracks that they'd made earlier, and then veered off, following another set of tracks.

  "He's off!" she said, and spun the steering wheel to follow the dog. The wheels of the old vehicle spun in the snow for a moment but then caught, and Jo had to hang on as the Land Rover bounced across the rutted field.

  Even over the top of the ancient engine, they could hear the excited barking of Jasper. "He's found something. Looks like it's in the copse - we won't get Bessie through there."

  Jo was out of the Land Rover before it had stopped and was following the sound of excited barking. She heard the Land Rover move away, but ignored it and made her way through the small stand of trees.

  "Rocky!" she called, stopping for a moment to listen, but she heard only the excited barking of the dog. "Where are you, you bloody beast?"

  The dog was suddenly in front of her, barking maniacally. "What?" she asked it, feeling ridiculous. She saw the lights of the Land Rover through the trees, and followed as Jasper took off again, darting between the tree trunks.

  She cleared the trees and saw nothing. To her right, Joss was getting out of the Land Rover and walking towards her, torch in hand.

  "Find anything?" she asked, coming to stand next to the tall woman.

  Jo shook her head, and looked down towards where Jasper was excitedly dancing around what looked to be a tree branch half way down the slope. That was all she could see, a dark outline on the snow.

  "What is it, boy?" Joss trained her torch on the dog, and both women were frozen by the sight that greeted them. The dark shape they could see was Rocky's jeans, her white tee-shirt and pale arms blending into the whiteness on which she lay.

  "Oh my God," was all Jo managed and she slid down the slope, coming to rest beside her still lover and the dog, who was licking Rocky's unresponsive face. "Rocky," she breathed, and turned the blonde over. Damp hair fell across the blonde's face, her head lolling limply towards Jo. The dark-haired woman brushed the hair away, her fingers trembling as they encountered cold, marble-like skin. She cupped the pale face in her hands, the moonlight making her lover look even paler, her eyes and cheeks almost sunken, giving her the appearance of a corpse.

  Jo gathere
d the small body into her arms. "Oh Jesus, Rocky," she sobbed, rocking the limp body, praying she would feel just the tiniest response from the woman. "Come on now, wake up," she breathed, looking down into the face of the blonde. "Don't you do this to me. What were you thinking?" She crushed her to her own body once more.

  She looked up towards Joss, who was picking her way cautiously towards them. "She's frozen. I don't know if she's breathing." The moonlight reflected off the tears that streaked her face, and she tore her coat off. She gathered the limp form into her arms and tried her best to cover the frighteningly cold body with the heavy coat. "We need to get her inside," said Jo, and she tried to pick her up. But the limp body merely slipped through her hands and back onto the snow again. "I can't..." Jo said, trying again, her frustration getting the better of her. She sobbed at her own helplessness.

  Joss gently pushed her aside. "Jo, calm down." She looked down at the girl, who looked small and frail. "Hold this." She handed Jo the coat and reached down for Rocky's arms. "It's all in the technique," she said as she pulled on the blonde's arms and then bent her shoulder into Rocky's stomach so that she fell across Joss's back. "There, " she said, straightening, and looking at Jo, who was staring open-mouthed at her. "Well, come on, girl, we don't have all night." She turned, and Jo followed, her eyes never leaving the sight of her lover's limp body across the shoulder of her new and very dear friend.

  "Get in," said Joss as they reached the Land Rover.

  Jo silently did as she was told, and Rocky's freezing body was deposited in her lap. Then the coat was thrown over them both.

  Joss ran around the front of the vehicle and gunned the engine, taking a moment to negotiate the slope, not wanting them to end up in the lake.

  "I can't believe you did that," said Jo, pulling Rocky close and burying her face in damp, blonde hair.

  "What, dear?" Joss was peering out into the night, being careful not to run over her excitable pet who was feeling very pleased with himself.