by R T Green
A big arrow pointed straight on, and underneath were the words 'The Broads', and an icon of a sailing boat.
Zana noticed the smile. I hadn't said where we were going, but then I explained why I'd chosen Norfolk, and all about the childhood holidays with my father.
She seemed to understand exactly how I felt, smiled warmly and took my hand. ‘It's nice to know something about your past,’ she said.
I smiled back. ‘It would be nice to know a little of yours too.’
Her head lowered. ‘I know, Madeline,’ she said quietly.
The wipers switched themselves on as light rain began to hit the windshield. That only lasted a minute before it changed. I peered closely at the drops on the glass. ‘It's snowing,’ I said, in a slightly disbelieving way.
Zana's face lit up. ‘Snowing? Oh…’
‘Oh?’
‘I've never seen snow, not for real.’
My heart skipped a beat again. I'd wanted clear blue skies and starry nights, but maybe this was even better. I began to urge it to snow heavier, although I knew it was really too early in the year for anything more than the odd flurry.
But someone was listening to me. By the time the overgrown village of Wroxham loomed out of the murk and I threw a right turn onto the road that led to the hotel, the snow was like a fog and everything was starting to turn white.
Zana's face was a picture, her eyes darting everywhere like a child at Christmas. And as I turned into the hotel's drive and carefully negotiated the winding, tree-lined road to the forecourt of the nineteenth-century building, it looked like a Christmas card scene.
‘Oh Madeline…’ she gasped.
'Thank you,' I said to myself, but aimed at whoever it was who had given the weekend the perfect start.
The car had hardly stopped moving before Zana was out of the door, spinning around in the snow with her arms outstretched and her face pointing at the sky so the big flakes could fall onto her skin.
‘Isn't this amazing? Did you order this just for me?’
‘Told you I was taking control,’ I grinned as I grabbed our bags from the rear seat.
‘I bow to your awesome power!’ she giggled, still spinning.
I watched her excitement, feelings I couldn't describe making me want to burst. ‘Are you going to spin around until you fall over?’
‘Can we sleep out here?’ she laughed.
‘You can… I'm going inside before I freeze.’
‘Aw, spoilsport. I want a snowball fight!’
I grabbed her hand as it came spinning round to me. ‘There's not enough snow for that… maybe tomorrow if it keeps up.’
The warmth from the log fire burning away in the stone fireplace set in one wall of the reception area felt like heaven as we walked through the old oak door, Zana with her arm looped into mine, still giggling like a child. I managed to get her to the reception desk.
‘Madeline deWinter,’ I smiled a greeting to the girl sitting there. ‘This here crazy snow-queen is Zana.’
‘Good evening to you both,’ the girl replied, checking the registration book. ‘You've reserved Michael's Room I believe.’
‘Ooh, isn't he using it this weekend?’ Zana laughed.
The girl smiled, perhaps a little sympathetically. ‘All of the rooms are named after members of the staff. Would you like a few minutes to settle in before the porter brings your food?’
‘Food? Oh good, I'm starving!’ said Zana.
The receptionist smiled again, a sympathetic one for sure this time. ‘Your friend ordered a sandwich platter in the room.’
Zana giggled. ‘Come on then, friend… take me and feed me!’
I shook my head with a grin, signed the register and dragged an intoxicated-looking Zana towards the staircase as she sang 'Let it snow, let it snow let it snow…' in a husky voice.
‘How much have you had to drink?’ I laughed as we climbed the stairs.
‘Not a drop,’ she said firmly. ‘Just under the influence of happiness!’
I knew how she felt, but as I turned the key in the lock I couldn't help wishing she'd chosen something else to sing than the closing song from the movie Die Hard.
That didn’t end too well for the bad guys.
Chapter 35
‘Oh Madeline…’ Zana repeated herself as she stood just inside the room, drinking in her surroundings.
‘That's the second time you've said that in ten minutes.’
She turned to me, looped her arms around my neck and kissed me softly. ‘Oh Madeline… aren't you a clever girl? That's three times now.’
‘I did good then?’
‘It's perfect.’
It was perfect. Dominating the room was a white-painted traditional four-posted bed with all-white bedcovers and thick feather pillows. A big Georgian window overlooked the manicured sloping lawns leading down to a tiny wood, just hiding the broad itself from view.
Sumptuous blue patterned drapes which looked thicker than the duvet lined the window, an intricate fabric pelmet looping across the top. Old oak free-standing wardrobes sat against one wall, a dressing table on queen-anne legs sitting between them. Two upholstered fireside chairs and a round coffee table had been positioned by the window, and a white and gold chandelier hung from the ceiling.
It felt like I'd stepped into another, more elegant bygone era.
Zana was off again, running through the door next to the bed into the en-suite. I heard her call out a few seconds later. ‘You have got to see this!’
Knowing exactly what she meant, I followed her into the bathroom which was almost as big as the bedroom. She was already sitting inside it grinning away, a dark-blue free-standing double-ended cast-iron bath, its semi-circular ends raised higher than the sides.
‘Come on in, the water's lovely!’ she said.
‘You're an idiot,’ I laughed, doing as she asked and climbing in behind her as she edged forward and leant the back of her head against my chest.
‘A perfect fit,’ she said quietly.
‘Maybe we should try it with water next time?’
‘Oh is that what you do?’ she giggled. ‘And look, a shower too.’
In one corner, a modern shower enclosure almost spoilt the time-capsule. Easily big enough for two, its curved doors shrouded a power-shower panel with two heads set at different heights, and six water-jets pointing horizontally.
Zana tipped her head back so she could look into my eyes. ‘I want to stay here forever,’ she said, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
We heard the door knock, a man's muffled voice. ‘It's the porter madam, with your food.’
Hastily we scrambled out of the bath, straightened our clothes and opened the door for the man, who walked in and placed a huge silver tray on the coffee table.
‘Did you say sandwiches, friend?’ Zana looked at me with a cheeky grin.
The kindly-faced porter smiled back. ‘We don't do things by halves here, madam. I hope you will enjoy.’
‘Oh I think we will!’
I tipped the porter as he left. Zana was already sitting in one of the chairs, looking like she hadn't eaten for a week. ‘Just look at this, Madeline,’ she said with big eyes.
The round tray was almost as big as the coffee table. There were sandwiches; delicate triangles with various fillings encased by rings of shredded salad leaves in a multitude of colours. Small bowls of crisps and savoury biscuits were dotted around, and other bowls containing olives, sun-dried tomatoes and white silverskin onions somehow found a space between everything else.
I sat down opposite her, caught her gazing at me, and knew exactly what she was about to say.
‘Food to share, Madeline.’
Chapter 36
We sat together, sharing the exquisite meal. I’d turned the centre light down to minimum, a little night music played through the TV that doubled as a radio.
We talked of everything not the least bit important, but to both of us every word was magic. The drapes had been le
ft open, outside it was still snowing heavily, and every minute Zana would look at the flakes hitting the window and smile beautifully.
Harsh reality was, for now at least, somewhere on another planet.
Finally she leaned back and blew out her cheeks. ‘I'm stuffed,’ she announced.
‘Not surprised. At least you left a few crumbs for me.’
‘Don't give me that, deWinter; you ate… almost half of it!’ She stood up. ‘Need to move around a bit though. We should unpack a few things, it's getting late.’
I glanced at the Rolex, she wasn't kidding. It was almost one in the morning. If I’d had to guess, I would have said it hadn’t yet passed midnight. I joined Zana, put a few things in drawers. I felt arms slip around my waist, two whispered words in my ear.
‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
She waved her hand around. ‘All this. Maybe I should let you take control more often.’
‘Suppose it's my father you should thank really. If he hadn't dragged me kicking and screaming to Norfolk the first time, I wouldn't have even thought of coming here.’
‘Then I salute your father because his taste is just as good as his daughter's.’
I felt her yawn from behind me. ‘You tired?’
‘Exhausted. I think I need to sleep. Is that ok?’
‘As long as I can spoon you.’
I turned to face her; she pressed her body up against mine, gave me another cheeky grin. ‘If you don't you can go sleep in that bath.’
I watched as she undressed, the perfect symmetry of her body taking my breath away yet again. Every elegant movement filled me with pleasure, her grace and beauty intoxicating. She caught me looking.
‘You watching me, deWinter?’
‘Every second.’
She slipped naked into the bed. ‘So quit watching and start touching.’
I didn't need a second invitation, pulled back the thick satin-covered duvet and lay down beside her. She turned a little, laid her head on my chest as I gently stroked her hair. Words weren't needed anymore. We lay in silence for a few minutes, and then she turned away. I pulled her into me, she lifted my hand to her face and softly kissed my fingers.
The touch of her lips sent tantalizing shivers through my body, but I knew there was no desire in either of us for anything more. That would spoil the tranquillity of the moment.
I closed my eyes, lost in the feel of the amazing woman who lay tight against me like we were two spoons welded together. She was asleep already, her gentle warm breath drifting across my hand, still close to her face with her hand wrapped around it.
I was back in my childhood Norfolk, except this time the peace and happiness in my heart was far different. And far stronger than anything I had ever felt before.
Chapter 37
‘Madeline, come and see this!’
Less than half awake, I reached out for Zana and realised she wasn't in the bed. I forced reluctant eyes to focus, saw she was standing naked at the window with the drapes wide open. As I stood behind her and felt her lean back into me, I said with a smile, ‘Yeah… exactly as ordered.’
A crisp white light forced my eyes to narrow as I drank in the beauty. The morning sun had just cleared the tops of the trees growing around the shore of the broad, dispelling the last of a slight mist still giving the scene a surreal kind of magic. A good three inches of snow covered everything.
It couldn't have been better.
‘You're such a bull-shitting hussy, deWinter,’ Zana said as she tore herself away from the view and turned to face me. ‘Did you sleep ok?’
‘Don't remember much about lying awake.’
‘Nor me; think I was asleep as soon as I'd kissed your hand.’ She pressed her lips against mine. ‘But there's plenty of time to do things we will remember!’
She laughed, pushed me away, ran to the dressing table and opened the hotel brochure. ‘What time's breakfast?’
I gasped. ‘You ate enough for a horse a few hours ago!’
She pierced a stare into me. ‘You want me all skinny and emaciated?
‘Not much chance of that!’ I retorted, ducking as she threw a mock punch at me.
She laughed. ‘And anyway, I like getting value for money.’
‘That would work if you were actually paying!’
We found a table by a tall Georgian window in the small elegant dining room that was almost ours alone. Just one other couple sat in the far corner. I studied the breakfast menu and then raised my eyebrows at Zana, making sure she noticed.
‘You want to say something, Madeline?’ she grinned.
It was hard, but I put on a serious face. ‘Just a bit worried. I'll be having the full English breakfast which means there'll be mushrooms. You won't, um…’
She leaned closer to me, opened her lips a little revealing the tip of her tongue. Then she shook her head and laughed. ‘I'll be good this time, I promise.’
I breathed an over-exaggerated sigh of relief as the waiter came to take our order, saw Zana pucker her lips at me out of the corner of my eye.
‘You know what I want to do after breakfast, don't you?’ she said with a glint in her eye.
‘Not a clue, my little snow-queen.’
‘Bet I win.’
‘Noo - you're a rookie when it comes to snow… although snowball fighting isn't really my sport.’
‘What is your sport?’
‘Soccer… lifelong Liverpool supporter me.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘And you an East-end girl?’
‘Just like the way they play. And they wear red of course!’ I grinned.
‘That's my favourite colour,’ she said, unnecessarily.
‘Would never have guessed.’
As we ate, and I watched Zana constantly glancing out of the window like an excited little girl, I realised we were likely going to spend a fair part of the day enjoying the white stuff in one form or another. And judging by the size of the weekend case she'd brought, Zana had no suitable clothes for winter sports.
I remembered when I was a girl, the village had big store. Roy's of Wroxham was an institution back then, and I doubted it would be anything other today. I told Zana she wasn't allowed to play in the snow until we'd been shopping for coats, gloves and hats. She pulled a face and called me a bossy old mum, I exercised my recently-discovered authority and took control again by telling her that was the deal.
She grinned and said I was a control-freak, and the second the last piece of toast and thick-cut marmalade was in my mouth, grabbed my hand and hauled me out of the restaurant, still chewing.
Ten minutes later she was covered in snow, taking it upon herself to clear the BMW's windows with her arms, despite my insistence the automatic de-icers would do it for her. I shook my head as I climbed into the driver's seat, not quite believing the character change in the girl now giggling next to me.
Finally she brushed the snow off herself and joined me, red-faced and grinning, and we headed carefully along the drive towards the Wroxham road.
Chapter 38
As we drove slowly over the humped river bridge with the semi-circular arch that had caught out many a boating holidaymaker since the beginning of time, I caught my breath yet again.
In front of us was the busy crossroads in the centre of the sprawling village, and apart from the snow-covered roads, it was all so familiar. Little had changed in the last twenty years. The small shops sitting close to the road, which in summer were rammed with tourists, had hardly altered. As we sat in a short traffic queue waiting for the pedestrian crossing to clear, I stared ahead at the frontage of Roys, positioned on one corner of the junction. It didn't look like that had changed much either.
But as we made the crossroads, a big building came into view on the left of the street. One that wasn't there in my childhood. One that made me smile, because good old Roy had built me a much bigger place to shop... a two-storey department store on the opposite side of the road to the food-store.
I would for sure find the things there my young daughter needed!
We parked in the big car park at the rear of the building, and headed into the store through the back entrance.
‘Merry Christmas!’ said Zana with another giggle. She wasn't exactly joking; there in Roys it was Christmas. It may only be the middle of November but that didn't seem to matter. A huge Christmas tree twinkled multi-coloured lights at us, and festive music played away in the background. I half-expected to see a Santa Claus walking around saying, 'Ho-ho-ho', but thankfully there was none to be seen.
If he had been there, the mood Zana was in she would be sitting on his knee telling him what she wanted for Christmas.
That thought turned my stomach, and for a moment the dread was back. Christmas this year was unlikely to be a happy time for either of us.
We took the elevator to the first floor, found thick ski-coats straightaway. I chose a light-blue one with white flashing.
Zana chose a red one.
We wandered over to the hats and gloves racking, picked warm-looking gloves flexible enough for snowball rolling. I found a silly fur cap with ear-protectors, put it on for a joke and asked Zana what she thought.
She threw me a scowl. ‘Wear that and you'll be the snowball,’ she growled. Then she squealed with delight at something she'd just spotted. ‘Look Madeline… one of those Russian fur hats!’
She put the light-brown Zhivago hat on her head, turned and gave me a beautiful smile. ‘What do you think?’ I smiled back and nodded eagerly, words just then difficult to find.
Suddenly I could see Lara Antipov, hear the famous evocative music in my ears. And for the first time, understand the power of emotions that drove Doctor Zhivago.
She looked incredible.
I shuddered, remembering how the movie ended. Zana noticed. ‘You ok, Madeline?’
I forced a smile. ‘Sure, just recalling an old movie. You look… beautiful.’
For a moment a sad expression passed across her face. She laid her head on my shoulder and held me tight. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.