Читать книгу Coming Home - Melanie Rose - Страница 6

Full consciousness returned with the realisation that I was huddled in deep snow on the verge of an empty road with what sounded like a cat’s plaintive mewing ringing in my ears. My head hurt. Looking down, I saw that I was clad in jeans, which were wet through from lying in the snow, and I could barely feel my legs. Shivering uncontrollably in a soggy, snow-saturated sweater, a mixture of bewilderment and fright flooded through me; I had absolutely no idea who I was or how I had come to be here.

My mind felt sluggish and my stomach tightened involuntarily with fear as I sat up and stared round me, blinking through snowflakes that were landing thick and fast on my hair, face and lashes. Reaching up to brush the cold wetness from the long hair fringing my face, my hands came away sticky with red, clotting blood. So this body was injured, I thought numbly, but why, how? What was I doing way out here freezing slowly to death in the snow?

A cat miaowed again somewhere nearby. Looking round I saw a plastic pet carrier lying nearby. So I hadn’t imagined the sound; there really was a cat. But what had I been doing out in the middle of nowhere in such weather and with a cat in a box?

Blinking away the moisture that was collecting on my lashes, I peered round me through the billowing snow, looking for any possessions that might belong to me, but apart from the partially buried cat box the freshly fallen snow was empty of clues.

Snow beat against me, freezing on my face as I struggled unsteadily to my feet. I knew I had to get moving. Straining my eyes through the blizzard, I felt a momentary rush of hope. Could that be a cluster of buildings? I wasn’t sure, but…yes, wasn’t that smoke wreathing from a chimney in the distance? Drawing in a cold raggedy breath I swallowed hard, trying not to cry. Maybe the cat and I—whoever I was—were saved.

It was eerily silent in the snow; sort of muffled as if I had plugs in my ears and couldn’t clear them by shaking my head. Taking a deep icy breath, I tried to pull myself together. I couldn’t leave the cat to freeze, so I fumbled to pick up the carrier and started gingerly up the hill, slipping and sliding in inadequate boots until I reached a footpath, ankle-deep in snow.

Soon I could no longer feel my toes. My head was swimming, my breath coming in short gasps, clouding the air in front of me as the snow continued to batter me; little pinpricks of icy cold stinging my cheeks, eyes and hands like tiny bullets. Every so often an overhanging twig would snatch at me, unloading a torrent of fresh snow down my neck and adding to my misery. My nose was running, my eyes smarting and I was shivering so violently that my teeth were no longer chattering but crunched together in a permanent grimace. Every step was a challenge now, every breath an agony, and the weight of the cat seemed to be wrenching my arms from their sockets, creating a dull ache across my back.

And then, whilst trying to shift the weight of the carrier slightly, my frozen feet shot from under me and I pitched sideways into the snow, landing with a crash on my right side. The cat box rolled away from me into a bank of deep snow on the edge of the field. It hadn’t gone far, but I was too cold and too exhausted to do more than drag myself to where it lay on its side in the thick snow and hunch my body over it.

Snow hammered against my back. I simply didn’t have the strength to go on. I ran an icy finger along the mesh of the cage and I felt a wet nose press against me. I wondered vaguely if I should try to undo the catch on the carrier to let the animal go free; maybe then it would have a better chance of survival than it had trapped here with me. But I didn’t seem to have control of my hands any more and it was just too much trouble when all I wanted to do was rest my aching head on the pillow of cold white softness and sleep…

As I closed my eyes, a feeling of peace washed over me. I knew I shouldn’t sleep here in the snow, but it was so comfortable with my head resting on my arms across the top of the box; like floating on cotton wool. I couldn’t feel the cold any more, just a gentle emptiness washing through me. I dreamed that there was a tunnel ahead of me; somewhere I must go, somewhere where I would be safe and warm…warm and safe.

The emptiness swirled and I looked again, wondering if hypothermia was causing me to hallucinate, because there was a hazy figure floating towards me. I tried to call out to him, but no sound escaped my frozen lips. The shape came closer, swirling and swaying with the mist, and I saw that he was holding out his hands towards me.

Willing my arms to move, I reached for him. I still wasn’t sure if he was real, or some ethereal spirit, come to lead me into the place beyond, but as my frozen fingers connected with his, I felt a surge of pure joy run through my body. The figure pulled me forwards, lifting me, and I felt weightless in his embrace. Closing my eyes, I revelled in the closeness of him, the intoxicating feeling of belonging, of being part of something or someone bigger and better than myself. I wondered if I was dying or even already dead, but the thought brought no fear. If this was death, then I was ready; it was as if all my life I had been travelling alone and now in the white mist I had found my soul mate, the other half—the better half—of me.

The figure cradled me in strong arms and I turned my face into his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to float into him, to be one with him for the rest of time. The rough fabric of his coat grazed my frozen chin but I stretched my arms up and wound them round his neck, burying my face deeper, inhaling the scent of his skin, feeling my very being melt against him, into him, through him.

I felt him moving forwards, taking slow measured steps through the deep drifts, his breathing deep, and even while I clung to him, the warmth of him gradually brought my senses back to life. Though half conscious, I realised from the gentle rocking motion that he was wading through thick snow, his breathing becoming increasingly laboured as he battled against the blizzard with the weight of me in his arms.

Pinned against him, I tried to match his rhythm, to make my body weightless, to be one with his. He was strong; I could feel the muscles in his arms supporting me, his chest rising and falling methodically. My own breath mingled with his as he carried me steadily onwards.

I would have been happy to stay entwined like that for ever; my senses tingling, my body on fire with the intense cold, my body blending with his. But somewhere in the murky depths of the tunnel I heard voices calling, exclaiming, and then I was jostled and moved roughly about. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut I tried to feel him against me again, to savour once more that amazing connection of energy, but then I was being lowered down and I felt hands roughly dragging at my clothing, bundling me in something soft and heavy, and then the bright white light went out and I slipped into the lonely darkness of unconsciousness.