‘Ach, it’ll be fine,’ Leona said. ‘They’ll have the snowploughs out. I’ve gritted the car park and I know the Housewives’ Guild were galvanising people to start shovelling in the town square. The snow is no match for Millicent Fry.’
I grinned. Millicent was one of Claddach’s characters. She and I hadn’t always seen eye to eye and I’d badly misjudged her when we’d first met. But now I recognised her for what she was – a force of nature who organised, cajoled, and bustled everyone and everything into willing submission. Leona was right. The snow didn’t stand a chance.
‘So I was thinking,’ Leona said. ‘Obviously I’m shut tomorrow as it’s Sunday, but as it’s you – how about we meet here in the afternoon and you can try on your dress?’
I squealed in delight and gave Leona a hug. Then I looked at my watch. It was nearly lunchtime, surely Jamie and Tansy had talked enough for one day? I wanted to get home and snuggle up with my lovely fiancé to go through any last-minute plans.
I said my goodbyes to Leona, layered up again, and trudged back out into the snow. I decided to go up to the main road straightaway, instead of through the square as it would be clearer – I thought – and easier to walk on. It meant a slightly longer walk, as first I had to leave town in the opposite direction to our house. Claddach nestled in between the main road on one side and the banks of the loch on the other. In one direction the main road led to the A9 and civilisation, and in the other it sloped up past our house and on up into the mountains. There were two roads in and out of the town itself – one on the side of Claddach closest to our house and one at the other side of town. Both of them came out on to the main road. Doug and I had walked into town the quicker way, using the ‘top’ road. But now I couldn’t face stomping through the snow in town and as Leona’s shop was closer to the main road the other way, that’s where I headed.
The road had been ploughed, though it was already covered in snow again, and like I’d hoped, it was slightly easier to walk on. I could look down on town from here and it was so beautiful – like an Alpine village with all the snowy roofs – that I pulled my phone out to take a photo of the town to show Jamie – and that’s when it happened. I heard it before I saw it, and looking back I felt it before I heard it. A deep rumble, that vibrated in my chest like the bass thump at a nightclub. I turned to look behind me, along the road. I could see a man and a woman – dressed similarly to me – tramping along, walking in the road as I was because the pavements hadn’t been cleared. And one car, a big 4x4, driving towards the town. I saw those things, and then suddenly I couldn’t see them any more. There was a roar, like rushing water, but louder and deeper, and the very ground beneath my feet shook. I shrieked as everything went white and snow flew all around me. I covered my ears and shielded my eyes and half ran, half staggered back the way I’d come. I’d barely gone two lurching steps though, when – disorientated and unable to see – I slipped and fell. It was like being in the middle of a blizzard. There was snow flying all around me, piling up over my legs. I tried to stand, but I couldn’t. All I could hear was my breathing and the roaring, crunching of the snow. I’d never realised something so soft could be so loud. Terrified, and completely confused about what was happening, I started to cry. And then, as suddenly as it had started, the roaring stopped. The snow began to settle around me and the air cleared.
I wiped my face with my gloved fingers, and looked round me. The scenery had changed completely. It was like the mountain had slid down on top of the road, but that was impossible, surely? My heart was thumping. Dazed, I staggered to my feet and looked back at the town, trying to get my bearings. Yes, the houses were to my left and the loch looked as it always looked. The mountain still stood to my right, but a huge swathe of snow had slid off it down on to the road, as though a giant hand had pushed it downwards. Where five minutes ago there had been the road and the two cars and the walkers, now there was a huge bank of snow. An avalanche, I guessed, though I’d only ever seen one in films before now.
‘Oh shit,’ I said, as I realised what had happened. ‘Oh shit, shit, shit, shit.’
Frantically I felt in my pocket for my phone but it wasn’t there. I’d been holding it in my hand when the avalanche started and now it was gone. I had to get help. I tried to get to my feet, but I fell forwards on to my knees.
‘Oof,’ I said. I was soaking wet, freezing cold and absolutely scared out of my wits. But I kept trying to stand, heart pounding and tears pouring down my cheeks. I was so shaky and battered that I couldn’t stay upright, I just kept slipping over. But I knew I had to try to stand up – the last thing I wanted was to stay slumped in the snow. After what seemed like forever but probably wasn’t long, I heard voices, and to my utter relief a hand reached out and pulled me upright.
‘It’s okay, sweetheart,’ my rescuer said. ‘It’s okay now.’
I was half sobbing, half laughing as I looked at him. He was part of the Mountain Rescue Team, wearing a thick fluorescent orange jacket and a hard hat.
‘She’s okay,’ he shouted to his colleagues, who were spilling out of a truck with big caterpillar tracks on its wheels, further along the road away from the snow slip, towards Mum’s house. ‘There’s an ambulance on its way. They can check you out.’ He draped a blanket round my shoulders and I gripped it in gratitude.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, shivering violently. ‘I’m not hurt. I’m just a bit battered and a bit cold.’ The other mountain rescuers reached us – about five or six in all – and they all stood silently to one side and looked at where the mountain had slid down on to the road.
‘It’s not stable,’ one of them said. ‘We need to clear the area and seal it off until we can assess what’s happening up there.’
They started talking about sending up the helicopter and suddenly my mind cleared and I remembered what I’d seen just before the avalanche.
‘There are people in there,’ I said. No one heard me. I stumbled over to the group, waving my arms under the blanket.
‘There are people,’ I yelled. ‘Under there. Two walkers and a car with passengers in it. We need to get them out.’
‘Woah,’ said my rescuer, who had the name Willie on his jacket. He was a bit older than most of the team and seemed to be in charge.
‘Slow down. We need more equipment, and until we get the dogs up here we can’t possibly know where the people are under that lot.’ He nodded at the huge mound of snow then looked straight at me. ‘I think this is going to be a recovery operation now,’ he said in a gentle tone. ‘Not rescue.’
‘No,’ I said hoarsely. ‘No. I know where they are.’
The mountain rescuers all looked at me blankly.
‘I’ve got a photographic memory,’ I lied desperately. ‘If you can get me up there, I can tell you where they are.’
‘That whole side of the mountain could come down,’ Willie shook his head. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘I know exactly where they are,’ I said. ‘Honestly. Give me five minutes – that’s all I need.’
I didn’t have a photographic memory of course; that really was a lie. What I did have was a gift all witches shared – an ability to tune into others’ thoughts. I wasn’t very good at it, but I knew I had to try.
‘Five minutes,’ he said. ‘Then we’re pulling out.’
Together we trudged our way up the sloping snow. He took the blanket from my shoulders then slung a belt round my waist and clipped on a rope, which was attached to their truck.
‘If it falls,’ he said. ‘We’ll find you.’
I was shaking like a leaf but I couldn’t