It seemed just another winter that had come early. They all seem to come early these days, reminiscent of my own childhood. Five foot deep snow, drifting into each cold corner. For a child, there is no greater pleasure better than waking up and drawing back the curtains to see the outside covered with velvety, pure-white snow. I tell a lie, there is one pleasure greater than that – making your own foot prints in that fresh snow, and turning round to see the progress that you have made; like making those first steps on the Moon.
However, it is from this pleasure that we take so much pain, and this situation is one that that could only exist in a human world; the idea of a race who could possibly be as ‘human’ as us is something that we would struggle to comprehend.
Out in the village, the brilliant white snow glistens in the early morning sun. Nightfall brought on the heaviest snows of the season so far, and all that separates the ground from the sky is the swirling white smoke from the chimneys of three houses of Hastenlet, a small Hamlet in the Cotswolds.
Kate stands at the window in her kitchen, gazing out onto her vast back garden. Having moved to Hastenlet two years ago, Kate had left behind the hustle and bustle of Birmingham with Pete. She had built an idyllic life since taking the world of Event management by storm. The profits afforded by their success allowed them to distance themselves from the day to day running of their company, and allowed Kate to paint her landscapes, and Pete to renovate the old Barn on their land.
As they cuddled in front of their log fire, the harshness of the February winter weather was long forgotten, and their discussions on family was taken that step further and made reality.
Who would have thought that the same harsh weather would be upon them some nine months later. Kate was awfully proud of her life, but there was a little worry that had started to entwine itself and raise its head at the most inopportune moments. Today, Kate was officially ‘overdue’ ; her library books had been given back the last time the van struggled down the long , windy roads. But this was something more serious. Harry, the child being nurtured in Kate’s body was showing no sign of announcing himself to the world.
As Kate was reaching for a glass from the cupboard, she felt a twinge in her stomach. She had felt these before, but the pain lingered a little longer this time. Cautiously she levelled her body out to normal and turned the tap on the sink, letting the water run cool. Water was Kate’s vice – no strange cravings such as charcoal or pickled onions and jam, but water. Running to the toilet was no problem – the cottage had three bathrooms, and crucially one was right next door to the utility room leading off the kitchen.
Kate was used to this journey, and she trod wearily through the utility room when she felt the pain again. She had never had the pain in such quick succession. Kate had barely made it to the bathroom when a sharp pain made her crumple into a heap on the floor. Leaving the pain to subside, she tried to get up, and found her hands on the cold, wet floor. Kate was puzzled, but as the recognition swept through her facial features, she had the realisation of being alone. Pete had been stranded in Birmingham, unable to drive back through the snow, and having to seek refuge in the Hyatt Regency (nothing less, of course!)
Unable to move, Kate started to shout. By a stroke of luck the window in the utility room had been left ajar, keeping all the moisture out from the washer and the drier that seemed to constantly be turning.
But what was the use – there were only two other houses, and both of those were unoccupied. Kate was really in a predicament, and unable to move, in dire straits. Looking round, she could see her mobile on top of the washing machine. Ten metres feels like from here to the moon when you are unable to move, and Kate was struggling. Lying on the floor, contemplating what to do next, she heard a whirring noise. The washer and drier had completed their cycle five minutes previously, so what was this? Feeling round with her hand, Kate grabbed a wooden door stop. This was her only chance – the thought that went passing through her head as she flung it with all her might at the nearest window.
There was an almighty crash and shards of brilliant white light covered Kate, and then silence.
~
Machines beeping, the sound of chattering, all came together when Kate opened her eyes. Dazed and unaware of these strange new surroundings, she tried to sit up, but instantly fell back into the soft pillows that surrounded her.
A woman in a dark blue uniform came over to her.
‘Hello my love. Do you know where you are?’ the lady spoke softly at Kate
Kate knew where she was – she recognised the surroundings, the cleanliness and the sterile nature of the room.
‘How did I get here’? Kate quizzed the softly spoken stranger, ‘I was on the floor’
‘You have Mr Jenkins to thank’ the stranger smiled.
Kate didn’t know a Mr Jenkins, but then her thoughts turned to the whirring noise; the last thing she remembered before waking up.
Mr Jenkins was a farmer from the next village. He was helping the local GP visit patients who had become trapped at home.
‘My tools are useless in this weather, but my equipment can be put to good use’ Mr Jenkins had told the GP earlier, answering the plea he heard on the radio – becoming one of the Helpful Heroes of the Cotswolds.
