Page 39 of Where Do We Go From Here?
Once they’re seated, Wendy in the passenger seat, Jill on the bench seat in the rear, the car slowly pulls away.
‘I’m so glad it’s you!’ Wendy says. ‘What are the chances?’
‘Me too!’ Jill says, with meaning, then, ‘And whoisthis, Wens?’
‘My post lady,’ Wendy explains. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t even know your name.’
‘I’m sorry?’ she says, then, ‘Oh, my name. Manon. My name is Manon.’
‘LikeManon des Sources?’ Wendy asks.
‘Yes,’ Manon says, sounding bored by the choice of reference. ‘Just likeManon des Sources.’
‘That’s a lovely name,’ Wendy says. ‘And I’m Wendy. And this is my friend Jill.’
Manon raises one hand and wiggles her fingers back at Jill. ‘I see a car back in thesnow. Is yours?’
‘Yes, we were going slowly, but we slid right off the road.’
‘Is very bad tonight. You need snow wheels. This is obligatory here in winter. New Europe law. Everyone must have.’ Manon’s English isn’t quite as good as usual tonight and Wendy wonders if she’s been drinking or is just tired.
‘Right,’ Wendy says. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘I have,’ she says, ‘the good wheels. And this one…’ Here she caresses the steering wheel. ‘She is old, and small, and heating not so good, but in snow she isperfection. She is four four, you see. I drive through anything.’
‘Four four?’ Wendy repeats.
‘She means four-wheel drive, I think,’ Jill offers.
‘Yes, this,’ Manon says. ‘So she is perfect to live here.’
‘Because it snows a lot here?’ Wendy asks.
‘Oh, every year,’ she says. ‘Though more December,janvier. Is early this year.’
And now, they’re home, slamming the doors to the rusty Fiat Panda and waving goodbye.
‘Well, that was a stroke of luck,’ Wendy says as the taillights fade into the distance.
‘She’s sweet,’ Jill comments. ‘She reminds me of one of Michael’s friends when he was at school.’
‘She is sweet,’ Wendy agrees. She’s actually feeling a fairly unreasonable surge of love for this young woman who, against all odds, has appeared to save them from their nightmare.
They crunch through the snow to the door and let themselves in. The cabin is way too cold for comfort – the wood burner long since extinguished – but at least the lights are working again. ‘Electricity!’ Jill exclaims. ‘I’m assuming we can’t use the heater?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Wendy replies, already crouching to re-light the fire.
‘Can I come in with you?’ Jill asks as she kicks off her muddy shoes. ‘Please? Pretty please?Pretty, pretty, pre?—’
‘Yes,’ Wendy interrupts. ‘Please do. I’m frozen through to the bone here. But you have to warm my side up first. That’s the deal.’
‘I’m not sure I can warm anything up,’ Jill says, already clambering up the spiral staircase. ‘My feet have turned to ice.’
The next morning, they awaken to a still-cool, shockingly bright cabin. It’s like opening your eyes to find yourself in the chiller cabinet.
Jill is first downstairs so Wendy calls out to put a log on the fire. When she eventually gets downstairs she finds her friend staring out of the big window at the blinding landscape beyond.
‘Have you seen?’ she asks, when Wendy joins her. ‘It’s amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sky that blue.’
