Difficult to Reach

Chapter 5

Broken sleep permeated Fen that night as the walls and roof of her little cottage creaked in reaction to the clearly significant weather taking place outside. At one point, Fen crept from her bed to peek out of the window. She was confronted by a mass of swirling snowflakes smashing against her bedroom window, which set her heart fluttering with excitement.

Reminiscent of Groundhog Day, the following morning, Fen opened her bedroom curtains in full expectation of seeing snow. However, what she actually saw took her breath away. The snow was so thick that only the roof of her mini was visible, the remainder of the vehicle being entirely buried. And still the snow continued to fall from thick, swirling, blue-grey skies. Although Fen's initial emotion was exhilaration, this was quickly replaced by concerns around the dangers the situation posed.

Rushing downstairs in her dressing gown, she switched on the news. It quickly became clear that unprecedented levels of snowfall had affected the entire country but the South had been hit unexpectedly hard. Large swathes of Scotland had no electricity whilst most roads were now inaccessible. Emergency helicopters had been working throughout the night, transferring the critically ill to hospital. And within the next twenty-four hours, the temperatures were set to plummet to the lowest recorded in over a hundred years. The advice was simple. Stay indoors. Keep warm. Don't make any non-essential journeys. Don't even try to travel to work. Don't go anywhere without a flask, a shovel, a blanket, a mobile phone and a supply of provisions. But ideally, don't go anywhere at all. As far as Fen could tell, it was a case of literally battening down the hatches and effectively hibernating until the snow dispersed. Unfortunately, the weather forecasters didn't expect the snow to disperse any time soon, with further heavy flurries forecast for the remainder of the day and into the night.

After a quick breakfast, Fen dressed according to the elements and opened her front door to be confronted with a wall of snow at waist height. With Merlin's input (as opposed to assistance), Fen set about clearing her front path, using a combination of a sheet of ply, a shovel, her kitchen broom and a bag of table salt. It took her quarter of an hour to reach the lane, whereupon she started to dig out Mary's gate and repeat the exercise towards her neighbour's front door.

'Oh, you kind, sweet girl,' said a voice. Surprised, Fen looked up through the never-ending snowfall, to see Mary leaning out of an upstairs window.

'I didn't want you to feel trapped,' explained Fen. 'I'll be with you shortly.'

'I'll put the kettle on. Oh, good. You've brought Merlin this time,' said Mary, just able to see a metronome black tail as he dug randomly into a bank of snow, unhelpfully showering Fen's carefully cleared path with a fresh avalanche of snow.

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Half an hour later and an extremely rosy-faced Fen was sitting companionably with Mary around her kitchen table. Merlin, having been gratefully towelled off, had managed to position himself adjacent to the radiator whilst lying across Mary's feet.

'A perfect foot warmer!' affirmed the older lady. 'My dear girl, you've made my day. I was so worried when I woke up. I wasn't sure when I'd see you and Merlin again...or anybody for that matter. And now, here you are.'

'I couldn't believe it either. I was watching the news. It's like this across the whole country.'

'I feel most sorry for the animals and birds at this time of year. I must put some food out for them.'

'Well, let me do that. I passed your bird feeders as I was clearing the snow. I'll get them for you' said Fen, making her way back out.

'You're so kind. I do feel useless, but I'm bound to slip if I try. And then where would we be?' asked Mary, looking at Merlin, who barely raised his head when his owner exited the house. 'I do think Merlin's rather at home here!' she chuckled.