‘If it’s bad tomorrow I won’t be opening up,’ Marlene said, crossing the salon floor with the till drawer in her arms. She headed to the staff room to count and deposit the day’s takings in the safe.
Kayleigh didn’t need telling twice. Within five minutes she had her little white fur jacket on and was heading for the door. ‘Bye,’ she called out to her boss without a backward glance. She negotiated her first few steps on the compacted snow by holding onto the walls of the building, then slid across the iced pathway and hung onto a lamp post. The surface of the pavement was uneven and she could see parts of it were like a sheet of glass. With a lot of respect, she watched those brave enough to walk on it although they looked as if they were unwitting contestants from a TV show – falling and slipping around in an undignified manner. She negotiated her route via a telegraph pole and a signpost – anything that would help her make it to her car unscathed. Looking back at the salon through the blizzard, she could see a couple of people who looked to be helping Marlene down the steps. She tutted, and Mavis said her boots weren’t suitable! She obviously hadn’t clapped eyes on Marlene’s stilettos.
Walking like an octogenarian, Kayleigh became fascinated by the puzzle of the ice. In the near white-out conditions threatening to paralyse the town, she saw the outline of her car – and as her footsteps eventually cut tracks into the virgin snow around it, she was thankful to spot the orange, rotary, safety light mounted high on the roof of a snow plough coming her way. She looked up at the driver, whose face held no expression, but to her surprise she saw Mavis sat alongside him, chattering away. Mavis was highly delighted to see her, and waved as the gritter came to a standstill.
As Kayleigh waited for the line of traffic to move, the window of the gritter wagon opened, ‘Hey Blondie!’ the driver shouted. ‘You’re going up towards the Manchester Road in that little pink monster, Mave here tells me.’
‘I’m gonna try,’ she shouted back.
‘I’m going your way after I’ve dropped her off at the train station,’ he said. ‘Follow me and I’ll show you the world and anything else you want.’ She could hear Mavis chuckling and could only guess at her retort.
It must be dead boring gritting the roads, Kayleigh thought, but if she hurried he was right, she might have more chance of getting home following in his tracks. Looking down at the driver’s side door of her car, her hopes were soon dashed. She leaned against the car and moaned; all she had to do now was clear the snow that her knight in shining armour, had pushed against it. Her feet were wet and her toes were numb.
Downhearted, she trudged around the car, scraping off the snow with her bare hands. She looked down at her new boots with despair, for they were surely ruined. Mavis, bless her, was right and she would tell her so when she next saw her. In future, she vowed to keep a pair of wellingtons on hand for days like these. Parked behind her car was a scooter, no doubt Donny Longbottom’s. Where was her tormenter when she needed him? Probably at home if he had any sense. He might have a screw or two loose, but even he wouldn’t risk riding his bike in these conditions.
Red hands that had been numb began to feel painful at the knuckles as she attempted to rub life back into them. Kayleigh sat for a moment, cold and tired with the exertion. She picked up her mobile phone. ‘Can I come to yours Matt?’ she texted.
‘It’s Wednesday. I’m at me mate’s but you’ve got a key,’ her boyfriend texted back.
‘Damn,’ she said wiping away a tear that ran down her face.
Kayleigh rang her mum, but the phone went straight onto the answer machine. ‘I’m heading for Matt’s, mum,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about me, love you.’
Sighing deeply, Kayleigh threw her phone onto the passenger seat. Surprisingly the little car’s engine roared into action and as she waited for the windows to clear she turned on the radio to hear the next weather alert. She set the heater to blow warm air down onto her feet, and wiped the inside of the car windows with a leatherette. Kayleigh hadn’t been driving for long and had never driven in snow, but she adored driving her bright pink Ka and she was looking forward to the challenge now she felt a little warmer.
The roads were congested. The daylight was beginning to disappear rapidly and the night was drawing in sooner than expected, due to the grey, low snow clouds. Kayleigh sat patiently in the queue at the start of the Manchester Road. Her windscreen wipers were going ten to the dozen just to clear the driving snow but at least she was heading in the right direction. One minute she was sat in the queue and the next her car slid into the curb as she attempted a corner on a slight incline. ‘Flaming hell,’ she said out loud, feeling a thread of fear run through her veins. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, pursing her lips together tightly as if trying to whistle, and blew out slowly. ‘Thank God it’s only six more miles to Matt’s.’
Traffic was at a snail’s pace. Impatiently she leaned to her right to try to see around the vehicle in front, but all she could spot were brake lights illuminating against the snow-filled backdrop. Moments later the traffic came to a standstill, but Kayleigh wasn’t too worried, she kept telling herself that at least she was warm and safe. She shuffled in her seat, in an attempt to make herself comfortable. She sang along to the radio and tapped the steering wheel rhythmically with her finger tips, but the snow didn’t abate and after a while she could feel panic starting to rise in her throat. Ironically, she now willed the broadcast to give her the next weather update. Ahead, she could now see, were red lights which reminded her of an airport runway. She looked at her watch. Fifteen minutes went by. The snow continued to fall.
‘Beep,’ went the radio, followed by an announcement. ‘The police report that a wagon has jack-knifed on Manchester Road, causing a collision with a bus. Emergency services are at the scene and ask for your patience,’ said the presenter. ‘The advice being given out by the police to all motorists is to travel only if it is absolutely crucial. If you’re already out on the road, please drive with the utmost care and don’t abandon your vehicle unless it is safe to do so – the gritters and snow ploughs need to get through.’
Kayleigh groaned. ‘That’s all I need,’ she said. But the fact that the gritters were out in force gave her hope.
An hour passed and still there was no movement. Kayleigh looked at her watch again. Cars around her were being abandoned. More and more people appeared to be parking up and risking finishing their journey on foot. According to the radio, community centres and churches were being opened to accommodate those in trouble. But that was only for old people, she told herself. ‘I’m stuck on Manchester Road, listening to the radio updates,’ she texted Matt. Her phone bleeped. The battery was low.
‘I’m at Dave’s.’
‘Great,’ she sighed. ‘I might as well try and get home if you’re not going to be there,’ she texted.
‘Whatever,’ he texted back.
Tears welled up in her eyes. Wasn’t she more important than his stupid friend and the childish computer games she knew they would be enjoying, sat in a nice warm flat?
The snow was relentless. Her mind was set, she would stay put, even if that meant sleeping in her car. She watched another stream of people walk past after abandoning their vehicles. As time went by, the amount of people passing dwindled and it was only the occasional lonely, snowman-like figure that she saw. She felt alone and began to question her earlier decision. Maybe she should have tagged along with the crowd? The stretch of road she was on had no street lighting and the snow made the night feel eerie as evening quickly turned to dark. There were no houses nearby, but she had passed a couple of cottages set back from the road, close to where she had once dropped Mavis Beanland off. All but one had been in darkness and she assumed that the occupants of the others were stranded elsewhere. Maybe the house with the light on was Mavis’s home and she had decided to not attempt the train journey to her sister’s after all and the gritter man had dropped her off at home? Kayleigh’s spirits rose for a moment, but a sudden bang on
the passenger door made her jump. She could see a face squashed up against the window and she quickly hit the button to lock the doors. She grabbed her phone and turned the radio down. She could hear a man’s voice laughing, shouting and singing.
‘You in there Kay? It’s Donny. No mistaking your car, love,’ he said. Her heart missed a beat, but she sighed with relief. She opened the window a little, but the strong smell of whisky on his breath hit her. She could see a young lad behind him, who took a quick swig out of a bottle and grimaced before passing it back over Donny’s shoulder.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she said through clenched teeth.
‘Had to abandon the scooter in town,’ he said, shouting against the wind.
‘Yes, I saw it.’
‘Come with us, we’ll see you get home, won’t we mate?’ he added.
‘I’d rather stick pins in my eyes,’ she said quietly. ‘Go away.’
‘What did you say?’ he yelled, bending down closer.
‘I’ll chance my luck in my nice warm car, thank you,’ she smiled sweetly.
‘Whatever,’ he said, swaying in the wind. ‘Is that all men could say, whatever?’ she fumed, reaching to wind the window up. She heard what sounded like a man’s gruff warning bellow in the distance and Donny shrugged his shoulders at her. ‘Fuck off!’ he called over his shoulder. His friend scarpered.
‘Are you lonesome tonight...’ she heard Donny singing at the top of his voice as he wandered off into the night laughing like a hyena, oblivious to the cold in his drunken state.
The radio presenter reiterated the advice to motorists to stay in their cars. It was as though he was warning her personally, so isolated did she feel. Her fuel gauge was into the red and her phone beeped low battery for the final time. She fumbled with it in her lap, but the battery was dead. Mindful of her predicament, she steered her car into the side of the road and it slid sideways and jolted to a standstill, into the kerb. She turned off the ignition and sighed heavily.
Inside, the car was almost pitch-black. It was heavily blanketed by snow that was getting thicker by the minute. All was silent. Kayleigh flicked on the internal light and scrabbled in her handbag for something to eat, anything, she was starving. ‘Ginger Dunkers,’ she said, peeling off the wrapper frenziedly and biting into the grainy biscuit. ‘Thank you Mavis.’ As she watched the snow continue to build, a wave of sheer panic washed over her. Kayleigh opened the window and gulped a breath of fresh air. She rattled the door, trying to open it more than the few inches the snow would allow. She wanted to run, to escape, to be free from this nightmare. Her heart beat so rapidly she thought it would never again be steady. She closed the window to keep out the cold, closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. Time passed and she felt as if she was going to die, but then the panic began to subside. She looked again at her watch – she was alone, and now she was beginning to feel very frightened too.
Kayleigh tried to settle in her seat. . Leaning against the door, she turned the radio on low and closed her eyes. Surely sleep would come and blot out this night? Resting her head against the window, she could hear the slightest tapping, so soft that she turned the radio off and sat up. Holding her breath, she listened again, counting the seconds. There was no further sound, but she could sense a presence nearby. Kayleigh shook uncontrollably on seeing a shadowy figure through the snow mottled window. When would the guy take no for an answer? She swallowed hard, but to her horror the tapping increased to a knock, then, when she didn’t respond, it became more of a thud. She leant away from the door, listening, looking, her muscles tense, her wits alert. Her hands were in fists and her shoulders hunched. She was trapped, snared like an animal. Her mouth was dry as she gasped for breath. Her legs jumped. The knocking came in pulses, getting louder and louder. Scissors, scissors, where were her scissors? She knew it was only a matter of time before he smashed the window.
Chapter 2
‘Like a cuppa? What about a biscuit, love? I bet you’re famished.’ Kayleigh heard a man’s voice against the billowing wind. She wound the car window down as far as it would go, but it still only gave her a post box sized view of the outside world. The Good Samaritan moved closer. ‘I saw the light in your car flicker, so I knew someone was inside,’ he said. Breathless, and with her hand to her chest, Kayleigh let her head drop back on the headrest. She closed her eyes as she tried to compose herself. She felt dizzy and nauseous. A dog barked and she looked out but couldn’t see it. Did she want a drink and a biscuit? Was the pope a Catholic? she thought to herself, happy to see anyone other than the drunken pair outside. The cold night air and snowflakes that blew in onto her face were welcome. The old man, eye sockets dark and hollow, held out a steaming white tin mug. He grinned, an almost toothless smile.
‘Sorry,’ she said, trying to open the door. ‘The window won’t open any further either...’ The interior light burst into life. The man bent down and leant into her car. She blinked as her eyes reacted to the unaccustomed brightness and she saw him reach into his pocket and retrieve a much coveted Kit Kat.
‘What a mess, I live in a cottage down the road, the one with the carriage lamp. See, down yonder? Can I get you anything?’
‘No thanks mister, I’ll be fine,’ Kayleigh said. ‘It’s very kind of you.’ Her hands were still shaking. ‘You don’t happen to know a Mavis Beanland though, do you?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Known her for years, she lives down there.’
‘Oh,’ she said, with a downcast look. ‘She’s a client, a friend of mine. If only she was home.’
‘Been watching the cars out here for hours in this horrible weather and thought if there was anyone in them they must be frozen by now.’
Kayleigh looked up. He was wearing a balaclava, which only showed a little of the front of his pinched, frail face, which was wet and weatherworn. His nose was red and cheeks were grey, he looked cold.
‘On your own?’
Kayleigh nodded.
‘Warm enough?’
She hesitated then, nodded again.
‘Sure?’ he said.
Kayleigh shuffled in her seat and pulled her little fur jacket around her tight. ‘I’ll be fine, thanks,’ she said, gulping down what remained of the tepid beverage. He took the empty mug from her. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘Think on. If you need anything, don’t stick fast,’ he said, ‘you’re welcome to come back to our house.’
‘That’s very kind of you, I’ll bear it in mind, but for the time being I think I’ll sit tight, thanks. Who knows with the snow ploughs and gritters out, I might get to my boyfriend’s after all,’ she said half-heartedly.
‘He’s a lucky lad,’ he said, as he left. ‘Tarra for now.’
Kayleigh locked the car door. Her seat was damp with the sleet that had sneaked in and the car felt dark and twice as lonely now her visitor had gone. She tore off the biscuit wrapper and peeled the thin tin foil from the two fingers. Kit Kats had been her Dad’s favourites. When she was little, they used to race to see who could eat the chocolate off first before eating the wafer underneath. She smiled at the thought as she nibbled at the now chocolate-free wafers. In among the tunes being played on the radio, the broadcaster continued praising people for doing just what the elderly man had done for her. ‘Local heroes,’ he was calling them. Then he asked, ‘Why do we only seem to help our fellow man in adversity, and at any other time we are too busy to even acknowledge each other?’ Kayleigh nodded in agreement. It was true. At least now she knew she had an alternative place to go if she felt the need. And he knew Mavis, it somehow eased her mind.
She was refreshed after the nourishment but felt tired and irritable. A friendly face and a warm house were becoming more appealing by the minute. Maybe she could just wait at their house until morning and then try to get home?
She leaned forward, screwed up her eyes and tried to see anything in the darkness outside. The wind had created snowdrifts like big sand dunes against her car. She
switched the windscreen wipers on, but in seconds the windscreen was covered in snow again and again. The interior of her car was beginning to feel more and more like a tomb.
She picked up her mobile and growled at the black screen before flinging it onto the floor. ‘Thanks a bunch for nothing,’ she said. A suffocating feeling of panic rose within her. Swiftly she turned up the radio, ‘White Wednesday,’ the presenter was saying, and he promised to play music to ‘soothe the nerves’. She felt nauseous again, hot and anxious. She had to get out! She closed her eyes and controlled her breathing, and must have drifted off to sleep. When Kayleigh awoke, the radio was announcing the news at ten. Her hands felt wet and clammy, her mouth dry. She could just about see through one side window – the snow was still falling. She switched on the engine and turned on the wipers, but they were useless against the weight of snow that had built up upon the windscreen and just made a dragging, droning noise. She wound her window down slightly to peer out, and a portion of snow fell into her lap. Even in the darkness, she could see the snow had got considerably deeper. Her door wouldn’t open at all now and once again panic set in. She really had to get out. Sliding to the passenger seat enabled her to open the door, was it enough to squeeze out? There was no way was she going to be driving anywhere soon and she didn’t relish sitting in the car alone all night. Worried that she would be trapped if she stayed there any longer, Kayleigh grabbed her bag to flee. But getting out of the car was no mean feat; she clawed the snow with her bare hands and managed to open the car door wide enough to allow her to alight, albeit with great difficulty.
Stumbling out of the vehicle her legs felt like jelly, and climbing up on the snow drift to shut the door she fell awkwardly onto the top of the door. The pressure on her chest winded her. She turned with difficulty and locked the car door, rubbing her chest frantically. Darn it, no doubt she’d have a bruise there tomorrow. What on earth was she going to look like? The wind took her breath away. ‘You can do it, it’s not far,’ she said, gasping for breath. She put her head down and strode out as best she could. Her feet, that had dried enough to feel only slightly damp, were quickly sodden again as snow came over the top of her boots and melted against the warmth of her legs. Within a few yards the pain of the cold was fierce, but all she could think about was the promise of sanctuary.
Snow Kills Page 2