Page 53 of The Christmas Catch
Morgan shook her head, even though Ali couldn’t see her. “Nope.”
Ali sat up and fixed her ear muffs in place. “Try to forget that. On three. Right pedal first. One, two, three!”
The bike wobbled as they set off, but they kept it upright. After a few moments, though, they were in a rhythm. Ali steered them out of the car park and down the long drive, flanked by snow-covered trees. If everything hadn’t gone so wrong for them on this trip, they might have appreciated the winter wonderland they’d been dropped in. But staying upright and not face-planting on the concrete was now the first thought in Morgan’s head. So far, so good. However, this long driveway was clear of snow, with no other traffic. It was the smaller roads she worried about.
Up ahead, Ali signalled with her arm, then pulled out onto the road. Two cars flashed past them in the opposite direction.
“Just keep pedalling at the same pace, and holler if you want to slow down. Stopping is not an option!” Ali shouted.
The snow had momentarily stopped, so Morgan could speak without ingesting a mouthful. “Not even for the loo?” She shivered as a gust of wind whistled by her face. Not for the first time this trip, she was glad she’d brought a thick jacket.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wet yourself!”
That brought a laugh from Morgan. “We better not run into any cows either!”
“Especially cows that can move their heads,” Ali bellowed.
Morgan grinned. “The very worst kind!”
Over the next ten minutes, her fears about narrow roads turned out to be very real. On December 23rd, everyone had somewhere to get to fast, and a slow bike in their way wasn’t popular with anybody. It didn’t help either when the snow started up again, and began driving right at them.
After a couple of minutes, Ali flagged with her hand and they pulled into a layby. The cars behind them revved their motors and sped past, sending arcs of grey sludge their way.
Ali got off and kicked the bike stand. Her face was the colour of a pillar box, her lips blue, her hair frosted.
Morgan wanted to hug her, but that wouldn’t get them anywhere fast.
“I bet you’re glad you bought that hat now, just as I’m glad I got my ear muffs.” Ali squinted, then rubbed her palms up and down her face. “I just hope my cousin’s home, otherwise I might cry.”
Morgan reached out and touched her arm. “I think she’ll be at home, making a gorgeous dinner with just enough for two extra people.” Every fibre of her being hoped that was true. “I’m also picturing hot chocolate, wine and spin the bottle.”
Okay, now she was just plain flirting again. With a woman whose face was nearly falling off she was so cold. Bad Morgan.
Luckily, Ali saw the funny side. Even when the snow appeared to fall thicker. “I’ve never hoped for anything more in my entire life.” She grinned, then pulled her scarf tighter.
“You’re doing a great job.”
“I need to do it for another 15 minutes according to Google Maps.” Ali patted her saddle, then got back on. “You ready to annoy some more drivers in this picturesque biking nightmare?”
CHAPTER18
Ali had never been more grateful to see a sign in her entire life. ‘Welcome to Lower Greeton! Please drive carefully.’ Now, all they had to do was find Helen’s cottage in a snow storm. After the past 15 minutes, her opinion of snow storms had changed. They were great when you were inside. But when you were in them, they were brutal. Small lumps of ice that pummelled her face until she wanted to cry. But Ali wasn’t going to cry in front of Morgan Scott. Plus, there was enough water already in the air. She didn’t need to add more.
“Lower Greeton!” she heard Morgan cry from behind.
Ali put a thumb in the air. “Nearly there!”
Morgan’s reply was drowned out by the roar of a car engine. The bike wobbled. Ali threw out her left arm, and they pulled up by the kerb. A red Audi blazed past, horn blaring.
“Happy Christmas to you, too!” Ali shouted, then twisted to Morgan. “I’m riding until we hit the village green, then I know where she is. Ready for the final push?” she shouted.
“Lead the way.”
They wobbled back onto the road. They rode past the village post office and The Black Bear, the larger of the two village pubs, and then down a slope in the road. Thankfully, there was a lull in the traffic. Ali didn’t even want to look at her jeans and how muddy they were. Along with her snow-frosted hair, she was sure she looked a sight. Thank goodness she’d at least seen Helen in the past year and wasn’t showing up as a complete stranger. The first thing she was going to do was fling herself in the shower.
They swung down the hill, Ali applying the brakes in a pumping motion. When they turned the corner, the village green came into view. Ali’s Christmas spirit soared: she could see Helen and Jamie’s house beyond the Christmas tree on the green, all lit up even at mid-afternoon. The oak trees on the green were lit with white fairy lights, too. Ali guided the tandem onto the semi-circular road that lined the green, and pulled up outside her cousin’s house.
“Kellermans’ B&B,” Ali said, reading the sign. “I really should have remembered that, right?”
