Читать книгу Snow Foal - Susanna Bailey - Страница 14

Addie stared at Gabe’s back as he trudged away, bent against the snow that was now slicing sideways though the air. He was actually leaving her there. Well, that was fine. He had probably lied about the bus just to scare her into going back with him. People still needed buses, even in the middle of nowhere. Especially in the middle of nowhere. And buses were big enough to get through a bit of snow. Anyway, she wasn’t lost. Not really. She could go back the way she’d come any time she wanted.

She set off towards the glade of pines. A thick cluster of snow slid from the branches of the first tree as she approached; thumped to the ground just in front of her. She stopped.

What if Gabe was telling the truth? She wouldn’t survive a night out here. And then what would happen to Mam? She’d better go back. Just for now. She would make a better plan.

‘Hold on a minute! Gabe!’ she called. But her words were whisked away on the wind. Even Flo wouldn’t hear her in this weather. She shielded her eyes with her hand; spat snow from her lips. She could barely see a few feet ahead. Gabe wouldn’t have got far. She set off, following his tracks as best she could.

He was leaning against a great fir tree round the first bend, ankles crossed, head bent over his phone. Flo stood at his feet, ears pricked high. She ran towards Addie, swerved behind her and nosed at her leg until she was face to face with Gabe.

‘Couldn’t get her to move,’ Gabe said, without looking up. ‘Must’ve known you were coming.’ He stuffed his phone in his pocket, scratched Flo’s head. ‘Happy now, girl?’

Flo stared up at Gabe, looked back at Addie, her red tongue lolling from the side of her mouth. Addie could have sworn she was smiling.

Ruth hurried Addie into the hall. She fussed and flapped, held Addie at arm’s-length, inspected her for damage.

Gabe stamped snow from his boots and stepped inside. ‘She’s good, Ma. No probs.’ He pulled off his hat, shook it into the yard behind him. He looked younger without it, Addie thought, his flame-red hair a mess of wild waves. He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Just having a look round, weren’t you, Adelaide?’ he said. ‘Lost your bearings a bit.’

Addie glared at him. ‘It’s Addie. I told you,’ she said, and turned away. She didn’t need him to make excuses for her. She could stick up for herself.

‘I was checking for bus stops,’ she told Ruth, her chin in the air. ‘In case Penny can’t get here in her car.’

Addie saw Ruth’s eyes slide towards Gabe, saw them meet with his. ‘And I’m fine,’ she said. She stared down at her sodden trainers, at the pools of water collecting around them on the tiled floor. She tried to take off her coat, but her arms felt stiff, useless. Her teeth started to chatter. She couldn’t make them stop

Ruth kneeled down in front of her. ‘Let’s just get you warm, shall we? A nice bath, that’s what’s needed.’ She eased Addie’s coat from her shoulders. ‘Then some soup.’ She reached for Gabe’s hand. ‘Both of you, I think.’

‘Resistance is futile,’ said Gabe. He grinned at Addie. ‘Trust me. I know.’ He whistled for Flo.

‘No you don’t, Flo,’ said Ruth. She laughed. ‘She’d be in the shower with him, if I let her, Addie.’ She threw a towel over Flo, began to rub her dry.

‘Saves water, Ma,’ said Gabe. ‘Like you did in the war.’

Ruth flicked the towel at him. He skipped out of her reach and into the hall.

‘Nice thick towels on your bed, Addie,’ Ruth called, as Addie left the room. And you’re OK to use the main bathroom. Gabe has his own shower.’

Gabe took the stairs two at a time and disappeared before Addie had hauled herself up the first two steps. As she waited for her bath to fill, she heard him clatter back down again. He was singing. A silly, jumbled song, loud and out of tune.

Addie saw herself – a tiny girl, whirling across the living-room floor in front of Mam. She caught the click-clack of her new red tap shoes, the silver glint of Christmas tinsel in Mam’s hair; heard her own small voice lifting on the air in tuneless song – just like Gabe’s. She remembered the joy of it; remembered Mam’s smile – bright, beautiful: the centre of the world. She slipped down lower into the bath, let the water slide across her face and tried to hold that smile behind her tightly closed eyes.