After the Snow. Susannah Constantine

      The back road up to the castle was always difficult – riddled with potholes it was impossibly steep and windy – but because it was Christmas it hadn’t been gritted so was even harder to navigate. At first, the Munroes’ car crunched through the snow with little complaint, but as soon as they started uphill, the weak motor began to protest. It was used to smooth tarmac and wasn’t happy trying to adjust to conditions that were better suited to a tractor. Like a spoiled child digging its heels in the snow, it ground to a halt. Esme’s father cranked on the handbrake but it was no use on the icy surface and the car began to slip backwards.

      ‘Shit,’ her father muttered, gripping the steering wheel hard.

      Esme looked out the back window as the car slid into the deep ditch at the side of the road, the final crunch of the bumper as it hit the bank forcing her onto her sister’s lap.

      ‘Ouch, Esme, get off,’ Sophia said, pushing her sister back onto her seat. She hadn’t found Rollo after the service and was impatient to get to the castle.

      None of them was remotely hurt or even surprised. Her mother was facing forwards as if nothing had happened and her father still held the steering wheel in a vice-like grip. Taking the back road up to the castle had been a stupid idea, but on days like today, when a wide circle of the Earl and Contessa’s friends made the trip, Colin preferred to use the private gates like the Culcairn family.

      ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Colin said.

      Sophia started laughing into her scarf, quickly bending her head down so that their father couldn’t see her in the rear-view mirror. Esme started sniggering too. A great fog of nauseating fumes from the exhaust pipe was now seeping into the car.

      ‘Turn off the ignition, Daddy,’ said Sophia, regaining some sort of control.

      ‘Oh, right. Yes. Well I suppose there’s only one thing for it now; we’ll have to walk.’

      It was easier said than done. The car had fallen into the ditch at an angle that made the doors feel extremely heavy. Sophia managed to push hers open with her feet, scramble onto the snow and then pull Esme out after her. Together, they opened their mother’s door and held it while she and their father dragged themselves out. Esme watched as her mother’s expensive navy heels disappeared into the powder like hot rods through wax. Her stockinged legs now had a cast of snow that rendered her totally immobile. Esme didn’t know how her mother could stand it; the cold was so intense that her own legs had begun to ache.

      ‘Well, Daddy, you’ve really done it this time,’ Sophia exclaimed. ‘Not only have you chosen to crash on the back drive, which no one will be travelling up because they aren’t stupid, you’ve also managed to pick a spot that is still miles from the castle and just as far from The Lodge. By the time anyone finds us we’ll have frozen to death.’

      ‘Sophia, don’t exaggerate. It will only take us twenty minutes to walk to the castle,’ her father said.

      ‘Maybe on a normal day. You seem to have forgotten the three feet of snow we’ll be wading through and our lack of huskies and a sledge.’

      ‘Darling, there isn’t three feet of snow and anyway we haven’t got a choice. Either we get a move on or we stay in the car until tomorrow when the newspapers get delivered.’

      ‘Tomorrow?’ Esme gasped. ‘But we’ll miss Mrs Bee’s Christmas lunch!’

      ‘Exactly, darling. So let’s start walking.’

      Esme took her mother’s hand, which was stiff with cold. ‘It’s all right Mummy, I know the way. Follow me.’

      Sophia and her father strode off ahead, carving great tracks into the snow with their confident strides. Every time she looked they seemed further away, disappearing like ghosts into the fuzzy whiteness. Suddenly it didn’t feel like an adventure any more. She wished that her mother would just speed up a little bit so that they could catch up, but with every step it felt as if they were going even slower.

      Esme tugged on her mother’s hand. ‘Come on, Mummy, we need to walk a bit faster or we’re going to lose them.’

      It was bitterly cold. The sort of cold that penetrated deep into your bones and made you feel as if you would never be warm again. She thanked God for not allowing heating in churches, otherwise she wouldn’t have been wearing so many clothes. Even so, her legs and feet were going numb from wading through the snow. Snowflakes were beginning to clump together on her mother’s mink coat like the fur of a great polar bear.

      ‘Mummy, are you warm enough?’ she asked, shivering.

      ‘It is very cold,’ her mother replied, her voice muffled through her scarf.

      ‘I know. My feet are like ice cubes. Just think – you can wriggle them in front of the fire when we get to the castle. We must get there, Mummy.’

      ‘But I’ve lost my shoe, darling.’

      ‘Your shoe? When?’ Esme turned around, surprised. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘Stay here, Mummy,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll go back and get it.’

      Releasing her mother’s hand, Esme followed their steps back down the road. But the further she went, the shallower the footprints became. New snow filled the freshly made holes, covering any trace of her mother’s navy heel. Walking into the wind now, the snowflakes hit her face like a thousand tiny needles. It was hard to see anything; all the trees marking the side of the drive had disappeared and everything looked unfamiliar and eerie. Esme bowed her head and tucked her chin into her coat, not knowing what to do. Looking back, she couldn’t even see the shape of her mother the snow was falling so heavily.

      ‘Mummy!’ she called. ‘Mummy!’

      She began to run back up the hill as best she could, trying not to panic. Even with her eyes closed, she’d be able to find her way to the vast gates that marked the private entrance to the castle, but she wasn’t sure her mother could do the same.

      Maybe she couldn’t wait any longer with only one shoe, thought Esme and as she trudged up the hill she comforted herself by imagining her mother already standing by the fire in the drawing room with a big blanket around her shoulders, sending someone out to find her.

      After what felt like miles of walking, the castle finally rose into the sky before her and she soon reached the drive. There were already a lot of cars there and she could hear the party in full swing. As she pushed open the front door she wasn’t sure whether it was a blast of warm air or a sense of relief that washed over her.

      Pulling off her own sodden boots, she noticed her sister’s coat had fallen off its hook and landed in a dark pool of water on the rush matting.

      Serves her right for not waiting for us, Esme thought, although she still picked it up and placed it alongside her own coat on the cast iron radiator.

      The sound of laughter and clinking glasses trickled down the hallway from upstairs. She knew all her family would be safe and warm in the drawing room, probably each already