Baby It's Cold Outside. Kerry Barrett
under the age of thirty. ‘He really must be special.’
At the bottom of the stairs was Douglas, clad again in his thick jacket and hat. I stared at him in horror. With all the business with Tansy and Parker, I’d completely forgotten about my mother’s new “boyfriend”. Was he coming or going, I wondered. Had he been here all night? I shuddered at the thought.
‘Harry says you’re going into town,’ he said. ‘I’m going to come with you.’
I opened my mouth to say no, but Jamie elbowed me sharply in the ribs.
‘That’s a good idea,’ he said, smiling at Douglas. ‘The weather’s terrible – you can huddle together for warmth.’
I scowled at him, regretting how understanding I’d been about Tansy. Then I saw his scared face as he looked at the kitchen door and felt sorry for him again.
‘It’ll be fine,’ I said, squeezing his hand. ‘I’ll be home in an hour or so. I love you.’
Jamie gave me a quick kiss.
‘I love you too,’ he said. Then, without a backward glance, he disappeared through the kitchen door.
Douglas waited patiently as I put on a thin fleece, a thicker jacket, a beanie hat also made of fleece that was brilliantly warm, scarf, gloves and boots, then we stepped outside. It was freezing. It had obviously snowed all night, though it had stopped now. The sky was heavy and as white as the landscape. It was quiet and still and very beautiful.
‘Wow,’ said Douglas. ‘I’ve not seen snow like this for years.’
I took a step into the soft snow covering the garden path – it was almost up to my knees and I was thankful for my sturdy boots and thick trousers. We waddled towards the road in an undignified fashion.
‘There’s something magical about virgin snow,’ Douglas said. ‘I’ve always loved being the first person to make footprints.’
I looked at him and gave him a brief smile. I’d always loved it too, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
Out on the street the snow was just as deep, obviously, a foot or more, with steep piles at the side of the road where the wind had blown the powder into drifts. A couple of cars had obviously driven up this far – Tansy’s taxi for one – before the snow had got too bad, but even their tracks were covered now.
Carefully we began to tramp down the hill, hugging the hedges of the houses we passed and using the branches for support.
‘I wonder if they’ll bring the snowplough up here,’ I said, mostly to myself. Douglas shrugged.
‘They should do,’ he said. ‘Bet they’re busy though.’
We trudged on in silence. I sneaked a few glances at Douglas as we walked. He was tall and thin and seemed to be taking great pleasure from our surroundings. He was breathing deeply and looking at the scenery in satisfaction. As we rounded a bend, there was a break in the trees and Claddach spread out beneath us. To our right the mountain – Ben Claddach – loomed above the road, its pine trees covered in snow and its tip wrapped in a cloud. At the bottom of the road was the town itself, barely visible because every roof was covered in snow, and the loch. Its water was normally inky black but today it was like the surface of a mirror. It was silvery grey and reflected the jagged, snowy tips of the hills close by.
It was hard work just keeping upright on the walk down the hill and I was soon out of breath, even though I was in pretty good shape. Douglas, I noticed, was barely breathing heavily. As we reached the foot of the hill I paused to loosen my scarf – the walk had left me feeling warm – and Douglas turned to look at me.
‘Oh god,’ I thought. ‘Please don’t tell me how much you love my mum.’
‘I really love your mother,’ Douglas said. I grimaced but he carried on regardless. ‘I don’t much care whether you like me or not, but I know us getting on would make Tess happy.’
I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t expected that. Douglas’s slightly fierce expression softened. ‘I also know how you’re feeling,’ he said. ‘My dad left before I was born so it was just Mum, my brother and me for a long time. Mum remarried when I was sixteen. I wasn’t exactly welcoming towards her husband.’
He grinned at me suddenly, looking much younger.
‘We get along great now,’ he said. ‘It’s only taken fifty years to iron out our differences.’
I gave him a cautious smile.
‘There’s a lot happening,’ I said. I didn’t want to say that he was the least of my worries, but that’s what I meant. ‘I’ll try.’
It was the most I could manage and I knew it wasn’t good enough, but Douglas seemed pleased. He gave me a brisk nod and we carried on into town. I loved Claddach anyway, but in the snow it was like something out of a fairytale. There was hardly traffic, so it was quiet and the thick snow muffled what little noise there was.
The single set of traffic lights on the road to the main town square changed silently from red to green and back again. The shops were open though – it would take more than a blizzard to shut Claddach – and there were people milling about. A band of riotous teenagers were ducking in and around the town hall steps where they normally all sat smoking sulkily, glaring at passers-by. They were chucking snowballs at each other and laughing uproariously. A group of women were clearing the area outside the shops, the shovels scraping on the pavement.
‘This is me,’ said Douglas. We were outside the funeral parlour. It had been here for years but I’d never paid much attention to it before. It had a large window of smoked glass, with floor-length vertical blinds. There was a discreet floral display in the window, being arranged by a woman about my own age. She had brown hair pulled back into a neat bun, and she was wearing a smart black suit and sensible court shoes.
‘That’s Kirsty, my niece,’ Douglas said. ‘Would you like to come in and meet her? I think you’ll get on.’
I looked at Kirsty, bustling through to the back of the shop in her bank manager outfit and thought I doubted that.
‘I’d love to,’ I said. I gestured vaguely behind myself. ‘But I have to go and do… stuff. Bye.’
I felt Douglas’s eyes on my back as I trudged through the snow across the square, towards Leona’s wedding dress shop. Snow started falling again, lightly, and I pulled my scarf round my neck once more. Leona’s shop was up a wee side street and for a moment I thought she wasn’t open. The snow outside the door was fresh and untouched. I stopped, biting my lip in concern, and then Leona came out from a narrow passageway, carrying two shovels and wearing an enormous furry hat.
‘Esme,’ she said with a wide grin as she saw me. She leaned the shovels up against the wall and gave me an awkward hug because both of us were wrapped in so many layers that it was like we were wearing fat suits.
‘I’ve just been clearing the car park,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a very special delivery coming this afternoon…’ she gave me a violent nudge, ‘… I don’t want the van not to make it.’
‘It’s dreadful isn’t it?’ I said, looking round at the thick snow. ‘But it’s going to look gorgeous in our photos.’
Leona sighed with happiness. ‘Let’s have a cup of tea,’ she said. ‘And you can tell me all about your plans.’
It seemed that despite providing dresses for every Claddach bride for the last twenty-five years, Leona never got bored of weddings. I peeled off my layers and we sat snugly in the shop, drinking tea as I filled Leona in on every tiny detail of the wedding from the favours to the ribbons round the chairs.
While I talked, Leona, who was a stylish woman in her fifties with a weakness for gossip and biscuits, went through her emails on her small, pink laptop.
‘Ah ha,’ she said, turning it round so I could see the