Cold (29 page)

The dark head turned in her direction, the side of Jo's face painted in crimson. Rocky almost sobbed in relief when Jo reached out a shaky hand to her, and put her free arm below her to lever herself away from the door she lay against. Then the tall woman managed to untangle long legs and use them to get herself out of the awkward position she'd woken up in.

Rocky held the door open with her back, and pulled her lover up. She was relieved that the snow appeared to be stopping, only a few flakes being blown about in the slight breeze. The sky was clearing and a full moon cast the deserted motorway in an eerie blue light.

Jo pulled herself up, her feet slipping slightly in the blood she'd left on the window below her. Using her arms, she pulled herself up and out of the car, falling to the ground which wasn't too far below because of the angle the car had settled at.

Rocky managed to manoeuvre herself out from beneath the bulky door and quickly scrambled to her lover's side.

"Hey, well done," she said, cupping Jo's face. She still had a wad of the tissues from the box in her hand. In the moonlight she parted dark, blood-slicked hair and looked for the wound. She found it, a gash about an inch long, just above her hairline, which still pumped blood that flowed down the side of Jo's face and along her neck. She placed the wad of tissues against the wound and took Jo's hand. "Can you hold that?"

Jo nodded and lifted her hand slowly to hold the makeshift dressing. "Just wait a mo. I'm going to try to see where we are."

"Okay," Jo said quietly.

Rocky squeezed her shoulder, and then left quickly, scrambling up the embankment.

Beyond the ridge was a flat field, and beyond that she could just make out the dark shape of some sort of building. The moon shone brightly on the newly laid snow, and it looked like a simple two or three hundred-yard trek to the house.

She slid back down the embankment to find Jo patiently waiting, still holding the padding to her head. It was by now soaked through with blood. "There's a house over there."

Jo nodded slightly, wincing as the movement caused her pain. "Okay, go get help then. I'll wait here." The feeling of exhaustion was overwhelming, and to her groggy mind it was the best option for her to wait while her lover got help.

"Oh no. You're coming with me." Rocky bent down and caught Jo's free arm. "Come on."

Jo allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, and swayed slightly as Rocky pulled her arm over her shoulders and then started pulling them up the embankment.

Jo stumbled frequently, and struggled through the thigh-high snow. She suddenly pulled away from Rocky and threw up painfully.

The blonde put an arm around her lover's waist, holding her as her body heaved.

"Jesus," Jo rasped, trying to get her breath.

"You okay?" asked Rocky as she wiped Jo's face with her sleeve.

"Can't see a bloody thing."

Rocky peered into blue eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and noticed a glassy look to them. One eye seemed to react quicker than the other, and she surmised the taller woman might have a concussion.

"Let's keep moving. It's not far now." Rocky looked ahead to the house. She could see no lights on, and prayed that the occupants had just gone to bed and weren't away. But she resolved she would find a way in. That was their only hope for survival. She couldn't feel her feet, and she could feel the cold tightening about her chest like a steel band. Both of their jeans were getting soaked, and she knew from her time on the streets that it would be very easy for them to freeze to death in a very short time.

It was only another twenty yards or so, but the snow had banked, and she found it increasingly difficult to pull herself and her lover through the deepening snow. Luckily for them, the snow had stopped falling completely, the moon shone bright, with just a few silvery lined clouds making a slow trek across an otherwise clear sky.

It was quiet, until the silence was broken by the sound of a barking dog. This seemed to strengthen her resolve and she pulled Jo's arm tighter around her shoulders and hauled them both through the snow.

The house was part of a small farm. The main farmhouse stood a little way away from a large barn and a number of smaller buildings.

Jo was flagging and becoming heavy, and by the time Rocky reached the door of the farmhouse she could no longer hold her lover up. She allowed Jo to slide to the ground and lifted an incredibly heavy arm to knock on the door.

The barking became louder and she heard muffled noises behind the heavy wooden door.

The door slowly opened, and she was faced with a growling but rather small dog. She followed the leash, which she found was held by a woman. In one hand was the leash, in the other what appeared to be an ancient oil lamp.

"Good grief, Jasper," said the woman, tugging back on the leash. The dog stopped barking immediately. She was dressed in a tweed skirt, the thickest green cardigan Rocky had ever seen with a roll neck sweater beneath, and green wellingtons. A vision of English aristocracy in all its eccentric wonder.

"Please," was all Rocky could manage.

The woman looked from her down to the other woman who was slumped at the shorter girl's feet.

"We crashed our car." Rocky crouched down to try to lift Jo to her feet. "My friend is injured and we're both freezing."

"Well, get her in here," said the woman without further ado. "Can't have travellers popping their clogs on my door mat." She pushed the door open further, and the heat immediately flushed Rocky's cheeks as it left the house.

She managed to get Jo to her feet, but she was just about incoherent, and they stumbled into what appeared to be the kitchen.

"Bloody power's out." The woman pulled a chair out from beneath a pine table and gestured for Rocky to sit Jo in it. "Lucky I have the Aga - keeps it nice and warm in here."

Rocky eased her friend into the chair and then held her when she appeared to be about to slump to the floor.

Behind her the woman was filling a kettle at the sink, then she placed it on the hot plate on the Aga.

"Jo." Rocky crouched in front of her lover who appeared to be slipping into unconsciousness. "We need an ambulance; can I use your phone?" she asked without taking her eyes from Jo's pale face.

"Phone's down as well, I'm afraid. Snow on the lines, brought them down apparently." She left again for a moment and returned with a cloth and some slightly warm water she'd drawn from the tap. "If she's taken a bump on the noggin, she should be awake for a while after."

Rocky nodded, and started to gently try to wake Jo. "Hey there," she said quietly. "Jo, open your eyes for me." There was no reaction, and Rocky turned to the woman. "She won't wake up."

The woman pushed Rocky out of the way, and pushed back on Jo's shoulders, sitting her up straighter. "Come on, girl. You're not doing yourself any good like this." She gave Jo a slap on the face, causing the blonde beside her to wince. Another slap and the blue and somewhat glazed eyes opened. "Hello, dear. I'm Joscelyn, but everyone calls me Joss."

"Joss," Jo repeated, trying to focus on the woman and place her in the events of the past few hours. Her eyes tracked to the left, settling on the fuzzy form of her lover.

Joss gently turned Jo's face back towards her. "That's right, dear. And who might you be?"

"Jo." The injured woman blinked rapidly, obviously having trouble seeing what was only a few feet from her.

Rocky knelt beside Joss and wrung the cloth out in the water, then used it to start washing the blood from Jo's face. Jo seemed to relax at the familiar touch of her lover, but winced when someone examined the wound on her head.

"This cut isn't too large. Not bleeding much now. I've seen worse on a hockey pitch; bloody Bunty Adams caught me on the ear in 1958 - never been the same since." She chuckled at her own joke and left the two women alone for a moment while she rifled through a drawer. She brought a bottle of antiseptic and couple of clean towels over to them and pressed one on the wound, which had all but stopped bleeding. "How did she do this?" she asked as she poured a drop of antiseptic on the towel and pressed it to the wound.

Again Rocky winced when she saw her lover's face contort with the pain. "I think she must have hit the car window when we collided with the snow bank."

"What make of car was it?" Joss peered at the wound, giving Jo a brief smile as she changed the dirty towel for a clean one.

"Um, Mercedes." Rocky was now undoing Jo's soaking footwear, pulling them off along with the socks.

"No wonder. Bloody German car. Wouldn't have happened in a Jag." She bent to see into Jo's face. "You hear me, girl? British car next time."

Jo nodded mutely, wondering who this person was and where in the hell they were.

"Rocky?" She reached out a hand, relieved to feel it enfolded by her lover's smaller ones.

"Rocky?" Joss repeated. "Good grief, girl. Who on earth gave you a name like that?"

"It's a nickname," said Rocky, vigorously rubbing Jo's frozen feet. "My name is Michelle."

"Ah, much more civilised."

The dog started barking, jumping up at the door.

"Jasper, stop that!" Joss walked across the kitchen, peering through the drawn curtains to see outside. "Looks like we've got another visitor." She turned back to them. "Good job I put the kettle on."

Rocky got up stiffly from her place at Jo's feet. "There's someone out there?"

"Looks like it, dear." She stood aside and let Rocky peer out into the night.

The full moon highlighted everything beyond the farmyard, even giving the figure struggling along the same tracks they had made only twenty minutes or so before a long shadow. And there was no mistaking the figure.

Rocky's chin slumped to her chest, and she turned away from the window. Then she rushed across to Jo, kneeling at her feet. "I have to pop back to the car," she said cupping a still-chilled cheek. "I want you to stay here and keep warm." She leaned forward, her hand going behind Jo's head and tangling in dark hair. Her lips found her lover's and she kissed her long and softly. "I love you, Jo."

Jo looked confused, and her mouth opened and shut without any words forming.

"You shouldn't be going out there, dear," said Joss, suddenly realising the nature of the two girls' relationship.

"Joss, please listen to me. That man is coming here to get me. But I'm scared of what he'll do to her." She looked across at Jo, who was trying focus on them. "So I'm going to try to get out there and lead him away. I've got a cell phone here." She took the phone from her jacket pocket. "I think Jo's got a charger in the car. Hopefully I can get a message out."

Joss was about to protest but Rocky had already opened the door, closing it quickly after her.

The cold hit her hard as she stepped into the farmyard. The night was so still she could already hear his laboured breathing as he struggled through the snow. She knew he'd see her immediately in the moonlight, so she ducked down behind a long wall. There was about fifty yards between her and a small clump of trees, and she decided she would make for them.

As she broke clear of the wall, she saw his head turn in her direction. It was hard pushing through the snow, but she fixed her attention on the trees and only half heard the sound of her uncle as he changed direction and attempted to cut her off.

"Michelle!" he called, falling headlong into the snow.

She kept going, glancing back to see him pick himself up and continue towards her. Her chest was hurting, dragging in the frigid air which then plumed into the still night as she exhaled. She fell, her bare hands sinking into the snow, her knees hitting something hard buried beneath the whiteness. She ignored the pain in her legs and dragged herself to her feet again.

He was close behind her now. She passed the first tree, and was inside the small wooded area. The snow wasn't so thick on the ground here, and she managed to pick up speed. The trees were closely bunched together, and she ran blindly, hearing him curse as his wider frame had more difficulty negotiating his way.

She suddenly felt something slam into her back just as she cleared the trees. There was a sharp slope and they both tumbled down it, sliding through the snow and onto a relatively hard surface. He had landed a few feet beyond her, and she lay for a moment, staring up at the clear sky, breathing hard. She looked to her left to see him sitting very still, looking at her.

"Why did you run from me, Michelle?"

She sat up then stood on shaky legs. "I can't go back with you, Ron. You need to leave me alone."

"I don't understand." He stood and started to walk towards her, but was stopped by a loud cracking sound.

They had fallen onto a frozen lake. He was a good fifteen feet further out than Rocky, and had immediately realised their predicament.

"I can't let you go, Michelle." He said, sliding his foot carefully across the ice.

"Go back home, Ron. Please. Go back; you have a home and a wife waiting for you."

"I couldn't make Susan understand," he said, sliding another foot nearer. "She wouldn't listen."

Rocky backed away, reaching the bank and safety. "Is she alright?"

"She wouldn't listen, Michelle. I tried to make her understand; she couldn't see what we mean to each other. But it's alright now. She won't come between us again."

Rocky felt sick, her chest tightened, and she felt the sting of tears. She turned and started to scrabble back up the bank.

She heard the crack and a splash, and turned to see a hole in the ice where Ron had been. There was no sign of him.

The suddenly he appeared, just his head and shoulders. He clawed feebly at the ice, trying to get a grip, but being pulled back down into the icy depths by his sodden overcoat.

"Help me," he gasped.

Rocky was trembling as she watched the man fight for his life. She took a step back.

"Please!" he cried, hanging onto the edge of the ice.

She looked around for anything that she could throw to him. Some rope, or a long branch. There was nothing that she could see.