Cam looked towards the window.
‘And don’t let the weather put you off, some people have to sleep in shop doorways in this.’
Without another word, Cam untied his apron and handed it to Molly before pulling on his coat. Picking up his van keys, he walked towards the door then looked over his shoulder. ‘What do I do if I do find her?’
‘Either take her to the shelter or bring her back here. I’ll leave that one with you. As long as she’s safe.’
As the door shut behind him, George ran into the bakery and wrapped his arms around Molly’s legs. ‘Where’s Daddy going?’ he asked.
‘He’s just got to nip out for a while.’ Molly didn’t elaborate further.
She watched as Cam started the engine before scraping the snow and ice off the windows. A moment later he was sat behind the wheel but the van was going nowhere fast. The engine cut, and the door slammed as Cam started out on foot, striding across the green, his boots sinking deep in the snow as he walked. He started waving his arms in the air, fighting the snowflakes as the blustery winds carried him across the blanket of snow.
Molly squinted. Drew’s four-wheel-drive was at the side of the road with the engine running. The swirling snow obscured Molly’s view but she watched as Cam climbed in the passenger side and the four-wheel-drive pulled off and slowly drove away.
Her heart was racing. It was going to start to get dark very soon and the temperature was already dropping. She hoped they could find Bree and get her into the warmth but she knew it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. If Bree couldn’t get to a shelter Molly couldn’t stand the thought of her huddled in a doorway trying to fend off the perishing weather. She knew Bree would be in for a very bleak night.
‘Mummy, I’m hungry, is there any more of that chocolate bread?’ George was staring at the last slice.
‘You go into the living room and I’ll bring it in to you.’
George zoomed towards the living room like a fighter jet with his arms stretched out wide. Molly draped Cam’s apron on the counter and switched the sign toclosedbefore placing the last of the chocolate bread on the plate. George was lying in front of the warm fire, his legs waggling in the air as he pushed his cars around the rug. She placed the plate on the table, sank into her favourite armchair and picked up her laptop.
Whilst waiting for any news, Molly propped her feet up on to the coffee table and balanced her laptop on her knees. She’d had great intentions of talking with Cam when she returned from Dixie’s but that hadn’t quite gone to plan. George was chattering away but Molly was lost in her own thoughts. She knew that there was more to Bree than met the eye. That talent she had had gotten Molly’s thoughts tumbling all over each other as she stared at the job application note Cam had come up with for her to type. Why couldn’t Bree apply for this job? Surely Cam couldn’t object now that he knew Bree hadn’t stolen the phone. This would be perfect for her – a chance, a new beginning. Molly knew an apprentice wage wasn’t going to fund a house on Millionaires’ Row but Bree could start to save for a deposit on a flat. A little excited by the prospect, Molly placed the notepaper with the job description back on the table alongside her laptop.
Resting her head back on the chair she closed her eyes for a moment. Talking to Dixie about the flashbacks had lifted a weight off her shoulders, but her thoughts were turning more towards her biological mother. Molly knew she must be around forty-five years of age, but where did she end up? Was she still with Molly’s father? The funny thing was, no matter how hard she tried, Molly couldn’t picture his face at all, yet she could see a darkened figure with his fist raised in the air and her mother crouching down. She hoped her mother had escaped his clutches but her memories were distorted. Being so young, Molly couldn’t know for sure then what was real and what wasn’t. She thought for a second about what it would mean to search for her mother. What could that bring to her life? Molly knew her romantic notion of them falling into each other’s arms and living happily ever after was probably far from reality, and not knowing was probably easier to live with than knowing.
It only seemed like minutes since she’d closed her eyes when, hearing a door slam, Molly sat up straight and glanced at the clock. She’d been asleep for nearly two hours. She couldn’t believe it. George was no longer on the rug but snuggled up on the settee, with his teddy-bear and a family picture that he’d drawn. Molly had to smile; he’d drawn her as a stick person with a round circle for her tummy and inside the circle was another face with a smile. That picture was going to have pride of place on the front of the fridge. Just at that second, a gust of wind rushed down the chimney. The log flames were no longer dancing. Damn, the fire had nearly been extinguished. And, judging by the rattling of the old timber-framed window, the TV reports had been correct: they were indeed in for a night of more snowstorms.
The news was blaring out from the TV and Molly watched for a second as it showed a coach that had been turned over by the blizzard and had fallen a distance from the road, down the side of a mountain, with the passengers trapped inside. Molly shivered; it must have been terrifying. She was grateful to be sitting in the comfort of her own home and had no intention of venturing anywhere. Then she thought of Bree. Hearing the thud of his boots, she realised Cam was back. Quickly pushing herself up and off the chair, she hurried into the bakery to find Cam peeling the sodden coat from his back. She stood in the doorway waiting for him to speak as he pulled the hat from his head, his hair springing in every direction.
Cam turned around. His cheeks were crimson from the biting cold and he looked frozen to the core. ‘There’s not much point baking too much tomorrow, with the weather like this. It’s unlikely anyone is going to venture out.’ He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hung up his coat up. ‘It’s already minus four out there.’
Molly knew how bad it was out there. She’d just seen it on the news.
‘And…’ She didn’t want to know about tomorrow, she was desperate to hear about the here and now. ‘Did you find Bree?’
Cam looked down and regretfully shook his head.
‘How hard did you try?’ There was an urgency to Molly’s voice.
Cam stared straight at her. ‘Bloody hard. I can’t even feel my feet, and my body is numb to the core.’
‘It’s not good enough. You have to go back out and find her.’ Molly pointed to the window, the light from the lamppost outside The Old Bakehouse revealing how brutal it was outside.
‘I’ve looked for hours, it’s dark and I’m lucky to even have got home in one piece as they’ve temporarily shut the bridge.’
‘They’ve shut the bridge?’ Molly repeated.
‘Unfortunately, yes, and I had to abandon the van before I’d even set off. Drew was over the road and helped me search.’
‘Did you check whether Bree had made it to the shelter?’
‘Yes. She hasn’t.’
Molly fell silent and walked to the window, where there was no majestic scenery, no mountainous terrain or the woodlands of Primrose Park to be seen. It was just dark, foggy, eerie, with a blizzard swirling all around. She continued to stare out of the window and exhaled. She could feel the worry and anger once again rising inside her. With tears of frustration now blinding her eyes Molly knew she was spoiling for a fight but she couldn’t help it.
‘Well? Have you got any other suggestions of what we can do to find her?’
