Laurie Ellingham - Ours is the Winter - a gripping story of love, friendship and adventure

Erica sighed inwardly and fought to keep the annoyance from showing on her face. Was Henry really trying to hold her to something she’d said once a million years ago when they’d been drunk on wine and love? ‘One baby, great. Two babies, of course. Three? Why not?’ She remembered laughing.

Erica loved Isla with her whole heart. She loved her more than she knew it was possible to love anyone. Wasn’t that enough?

Erica opened her mouth to say something. Another protest, but Henry spoke first: ‘All I’m asking is for you to think about it whilst you’re away, OK? I know how busy you’ve been at work these last few months, and some time away to clear your head will do you good. So please just think about it.’

A needle of guilt pricked the inside of Erica’s gut. She turned to the sink, tipping the dregs of the coffee away and hiding her face from Henry. He knew her better than anyone, and she couldn’t allow him to see the truth blurring her vision.

‘I’ll think about,’ she whispered, before turning back to him. ‘I’d better go. I said I’d –’

‘Go into the office,’ Henry finished for her. His face was a mix of hurt and acceptance, and for one crazy moment all Erica could think about was stepping into his arms and confessing everything.

She took a step towards him. Henry’s deep brown eyes bore into her. The eyes of her husband – the man she’d chosen to marry. The man she’d fallen in love with, and had been in love with for the best part of a decade.

What was she doing?

Say it. Say it now – I never meant to hurt you. Her heart drummed in her chest as the lies she’d told him flashed through her mind. One after the other, after the other. ‘Henry, I –’

The clatter of Isla’s spoon on the tiled floor shook the sense back into Erica. After everything she’d done, now was not the time for honesty. ‘I’d better go,’ she finished over Isla’s wails.

‘Bye, baby girl,’ Erica said, dropping a kiss onto her daughter’s head and breathing in her smell one final time. ‘I love you so much. Be good for Daddy.’

‘See you next week.’

Erica stood on her tiptoes, planting a kiss on Henry’s cheek.

At the last second she felt his arms cup around her body and pull her into a tight embrace that smelt of yesterday’s aftershave and sleep. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘Please be careful.’

Erica stepped into the hall, pushed her feet into her boots, scooped up her bag, and flung open the front door. The guilt she’d felt flew off with a gust of wind leaving only the flutter of excitement dancing in her stomach again. It was an effort not to run towards the station.

Chapter 2

Molly

Molly ducked her head away from the curious eyes in the airport terminal and wished she hadn’t let her mum take her to the airport. As if the four-hour lecture on being careful on their drive from Sheffield wasn’t bad enough; now this. And where the hell was Erica? This was her idea, and she couldn’t even be bothered to arrive on time to give Molly some backup.

‘Mum, it’s OK. You can stop crying. I’ll be back next week,’ Molly said, her voice low.

‘I know, ignore me.’ Joyce sniffed and wiped a disintegrating tissue across her face. A tiny piece of white caught on her mum’s cheek and another in her loose afro curls. Molly sighed and brushed her finger across Joyce’s damp skin, removing the tissue and a fresh tear along with it.

‘Are you going to be all right?’ Molly asked.

Joyce nodded. ‘Absolutely. Just promise me … promise me, Molly Jane, that you’ll be careful.’

‘Of course I will, Mum. It’s really safe, honest. There’s no way they’d let a group of strangers trek across the Arctic without all the proper equipment and precautions.’

‘You’re all I have left. I can’t lose you …’ Joyce’s reply trailed off into a croaked whisper before she dropped her head onto Molly’s shoulder.

‘Maybe you should get a hotel near the airport tonight?’ Molly said. ‘Driving back when you’re this upset isn’t a good idea.’

‘Oh.’ Joyce sniffed again and stood up straight as if just remembering that they were in the middle of Stansted Airport’s departures hall surrounded by people. ‘No, no, I’m fine. It’ll be too expensive.’

Molly followed Joyce’s gaze over the array of travellers with backpacks, suitcases, and luggage trolleys moving through the terminal. Why was she the only one with a distraught parent to deal with?

You know why. The voice in her head was sudden and came with a gut-twisting guilt that stole Molly’s breath.

‘Treat yourself,’ Molly pleaded. ‘You could go into London tomorrow and do some sight-seeing.’

A shadow darkened Joyce’s face.

‘Or anywhere, really,’ Molly added quickly. ‘You’ve always wanted to see Kensington Gardens.’ Molly pulled out a phone and fired a text to Erica: Where are you?!!

‘Fiona and the others will be expecting me back.’ Joyce wiped her sleeve across her face and seemed to compose herself a little.

Molly’s phone buzzed in her hand. A reply from Erica lit her screen: I got here early. I’m in the duty-free bit.

Flipping great, Erica. Thanks for the backup.

‘They’re cats,’ Molly sighed, forcing the annoyance out of her tone. None of this was her mum’s fault. ‘If you don’t feed them, they’ll go next door for grub.’

Joyce frowned but said nothing. The cats had been a source of comfort to Joyce at first. Fiona – the old grey tabby who’d been around almost as long as Molly – had given Joyce love and a purpose in the dark weeks after Billy.

But now their small three-bed terrace had become a haven for unwanted cats of varying colours, sizes, and decrepit states. The house stank of cat litter and crap, and there was cat hair on and in everything. Molly couldn’t make a cup of tea without fishing out at least three wiry hairs from the black cat with one eye who’d made a home beside the kettle.

‘I’d better go. Erica’s waiting for me.’

‘Please don’t,’ Joyce said, her voice barely a whisper over the crowd that had gathered beside them. Joyce tightened her grip on Molly’s arm.

Indecision tore through Molly. What was she doing? Why was she even going? No way could she leave her mum like this. No way. ‘OK, I’ll stay.’

The anger seethed through her blood and prickled her skin with sweat underneath her clothes.

Joyce dropped her hand as if she could feel the boiling rage burning her skin, then shook her head. ‘No. Ignore me. Of course you’re going. Erica’s relying on you. You two need to work things out and a change of scene will do you the world of good. I think we could both do with a change.’

Molly flicked a glance at the cheerful group, laughing and jostling around two blonde-haired girls – carbon copies of each other – wearing matching backpacks. A little boy and girl waved helium balloons on sticks with the words Good Luck written across them. The children craned their necks, watching the joyous farewell of the adults with wide-eyed glee. Molly looked back at the crumbling mess of her mother, the lone figure bidding her farewell. Not so much bidding, really, as begging her to stay.

‘What will you do whilst I’m away?’ Molly asked. Guilt and uncertainty battled for space alongside the anger in her thoughts.

Fresh tears pooled at the edges of Joyce’s eyes. She drew in a long breath before she spoke. ‘Well with you out the way it seems a fine time to get on with the spring-cleaning. It hasn’t been done for a few years now …’

Joyce’s voice trailed away. Molly could see her thoughts playing on the lines of her face. Spring-clean time. Every year for Molly’s entire life Joyce had spent a week in early spring cleaning the house. Not just cleaning but sorting. Every room, every drawer, every cupboard. ‘Out with the old,’ Joyce would say in between dancing to West End show tunes on the CD player.