Heather and John debate that wisdom of travelling to the next village.
|"Are you sure it's a good idea to go and see Charlie today?" John asked, looking out of the window. The sun was a yellow ball in a cloudless sky, but the snow was knee deep and the roads were icy.
"Of course! Why ever not?" Heather replied from the kitchen.
"Weather forecast predicts more snow." John bit his lip.
His wife appeared in the living room, carrying a casserole dish. She shifted the dish to the crook of one arm and dismissed his concerns with a flap of her free hand. "We'll be home long before then."
"I'm not so sure..." The weather could turn in minutes, and already, he could see thick black clouds gathering on the horizon.
"Oh, don't be such a pessimist. We've hours yet."
John spun on his heels so that he faced his wife, arms crossed. "Where are we going to shelter if a blizzard starts? We live in the middle of nowhere."
Heather placed the dish on the dining table and disappeared into the cloakroom that was just behind the kitchen. She emerged a moment later, shrugging on her coat. "Oh, I'm sure we'll find somewhere. If necessary, I'm sure Dad will put us up for the night."
"Aye, if we get that far," muttered John.
"Of course we will!'
"Heather Strong! The eternal optimist." He stepped over to the mantle piece and snatched he car keys. "If we're going at all, I suggest we take the car."
His wife hesitated, indecision written on her face. She pressed her lips into a thin line, then let it melt into a smile. "Okay. We'll take the car. I might be an optimist, but I'm not stupid."
John grinned and kissed her. "The jury's out on that."
"I told you it would get worse," moaned John. It was an hour later, and all sign of joviality gone, along with the sunshine. They were stuck, bumper to bumper, in a whiteout. They were more or less half way to Charlie's and the windshield wipers were fighting a losing battle against the blizzard. John could barely see the brake lights of the car in front. Heather twisted in her seat and looked out of the Corsa's rear window. She could just about see the driver in the car behind. The law travelling in the other direction was at a standstill too. There was no option but to wait it out.
Four hours later, they arrived at Charlie's. The old man opened the door to them, turned, and shuffled his way back to his armchair by the fireplace.
"You should have stayed at home," he said. "The weather's atrocious out there today."