‘Don’t panic, no need to panic,’ I chanted to myself, pulling out my phone and searching for the spot of reception. I would simply call Callum and he would come home. He’d already been gone a couple of hours,his aunt couldn’t live that far away, he wouldn’t mind cutting the visit short. I scrolled through my contacts, looking for ‘Callum Landlord’, and jabbed at the call button with shaky fingers.
The phone rang.
And rang.
And rang.
‘Answer your bloody phone!’ I sobbed, leaning further out the window as the connection began to cut in and out. ‘For fuck’s sake, Callum, I swear—’
‘Hello?’
The sound of his voice soothed me instantly and I heard myself burst into tears.
‘Callum,’ I said, breathing a shivery sigh of relief. ‘It’s me.’
‘I guessed that from your name on the screen,’ he replied. ‘What’s up?’
‘Oh, not much,’ I laughed not at all hysterically. ‘Don’t panic but I’m trap— argh!’
A massive black bird, possibly the same massive black bird as before, swooped down from the sky and into the tower, brushing past my face with a nightmarish caw. I stumbled to the side, arms shooting up to protect me from its talons but as my hands covered my face, my phone slipped through my fingers, sailing through the air. I watched with horror as it landed on the solid stone ledge of the window, bounced twice, then settled, balancing right on the edge.
‘Hello?’ I heard Callum’s tinny voice reverberating through the tiny speaker. ‘Laura, are you there?’
And then my phone fell from the top of the tower, crashing all the way down to the ground.
‘Well, fuck,’ I said flatly.
On the opposite side of the window, the bird cocked its head to one side and stared at me with one shiny eye.
‘If I die up here, you have to promise not to eat me,’ I told it, my back pressed against the wall as I slid all the way down onto my arse. It cawed again, flapped its wings and launched itself out the window with considerably more grace than my phone.
And that was it.
I was done for.
Shivering in earnest, my clothes offering no respite from the weather, I wrapped my arms around myself and huddled into a ball. Even the glorious blue sky had turned on me, turning almost white with a chill wind that cut through to my bones. In the worst possible conditions, a human being could die from hypothermia in fifteen minutes. These were not those conditions but there were variables to take into account. My lack of proper outerwear for example, not to mention the fact I was a big giant baby. My final outfit was not flattering. My final Instagram post, the one all my friends would flock to and leave their heartbroken condolences, was of me sitting in a lecherous Santa’s lap at the work Christmas party, three sheets to the wind and, if you zoomed in, showing my knickers. And in my final conversation, I’d instinctively chosen sarcasm over immediately asking for help. Being a smartarse was literally going to be the death of me. As far as last meals went, I couldn’t complain there, but what I wouldn’t give to have a Terry’s Chocolate Orange to soothe me through these dark final hours, as was right and traditional on Christmas Eve Eve.
I moaned sadly as a list of all the things I would nevereat again ran through my head. Fresh French bread, a hunk of sharp cheddar and a bowl of baby tomatoes. Joel’s spaghetti Bolognese. Dairylea Lunchables. I would never find out what shape was in the final window of the Galaxy advent calendar I’d squished in my suitcase rather than leave behind for Desi to plunder. Dozens of patients had told me stories about their lives flashing in front of their eyes in life-or-death circumstances but all I could think about was the Costa Coffee melted snowman gingerbread biscuit and how I’d never taste its like again.
‘Unless there really is a heaven,’ I sniffed.
If there was, heaven probably had a Costa. I couldn’t see them going for a Starbucks.
No, I decided, wiping a tear away from under my eye before it could freeze to my face. I was not going out like this. Not when I had an unopened bag of Cadbury Snowballs in my backpack. No, they weren’t as good as Mini Eggs but damn it, they were the best we could do. At least until the first of January when the shops put all the Easter sweets out. So help me God, I would live to eat another Creme Egg.
Forcing myself to my feet, I rubbed my runny nose, sniffing the razor-sharp air and letting it cut through my panic like a knife. There were people around, they just couldn’t hear me. All I needed was another way to get their attention, like a flare gun or a flag. A bright red flag. With grim acceptance, I looked down at Desi’s skirt. Desi’s bright red skirt.
‘She doesn’t like it anyway,’ I told myself as I wriggled out of the flimsy fabric, letting it pool around my feet on the floor. ‘She never wears it. She probably hasn’t even noticed I borrowed it. She’d rather haveme alive than one random red skirt hanging in her wardrobe.’
I hesitated for a moment. Was that true? Hopefully. Hell hath no fury like a Desi who wasn’t asked permission. If I was wrong, she’d likely drive all the way to Scotland to march me back up here and throw me over the side with my phone.
It didn’t matter. All that was important now was attracting someone’s attention with my holly-berry-red satin flag. I leaned out of the window as far as I dared, starting on the side of the loch, waving the skirt wildly, my half-bare backside exposed to the elements. It was a long jumper but it wasn’t quite long enough. None of the boats made any attempt to move so I switched sides, angling myself sideways in the direction of the farm. Maybe one of the bulls would see and charge all the way across the fields. That would get someone’s attention. Or it would crash into the side of the ancient tower and bring it down, and I would die that way instead. Either/or, at least I wouldn’t be up here on my own, freezing to death.
‘Hello!’ I yelled again, rubbing my legs together as I jogged on the spot. ‘Anyone? Can you hear me? I’m going to die in about ten minutes!’
No response.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ I screamed. ‘I’ll even take help from Elsie if she’s around!’
