As they drove north, the weather worsened. But despite the mesmerising snow that whirled and twirled in the tunnel of the headlights, they were making reasonably good time. The snow ploughs had been through earlier and the roads thus far had been well gritted.
Ross sighed as the car’s beams lit up the sign for Crianlarich just off the main A road. They’d been driving for nearly three hours and still had another forty miles to go.
‘You okay?’ asked Izzy. It would have been easy for her to fall asleep but she felt that she ought to show moral support and keep Ross company. So far, he didn’t seem to have been bored by her inconsequential chat but over the last few miles she’d grown quieter, conscious that he needed to concentrate. Aside from the car engine labouring through the snow, the world outside was completely quiet and they’d passed barely any other cars for a while now. Most people were probably tucked up beside a roaring fire if they had any sense at all.
‘Yes.’ He yawned and rubbed one eye. ‘It’s hard when it’s like this. You need to focus because you can’t quite gauge the depth perception.’
‘Do you want to stop?’
‘I’d prefer to press on. I’ve got a shovel and blankets in the boot and you topped your flask up when I filled up with petrol.’
‘And don’t forget I’ve got leftover crab Scotch eggs,’ said Izzy, shaking the paper bag at him.
‘I can’t believe you did that.’
‘What, ask for a doggy bag?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ He rolled his eyes and she got the impression he hadn’t liked that she’d drawn attention to them in the restaurant. ‘Sorry, I don’t like to make a fuss when they’re busy.’
‘Waste not want not.’ She put the bag down in the footwell. ‘They were delicious and I wasn’t leaving them behind. Besides, you might be glad of them if we get stuck.’
‘Ye of little faith.’
‘It’s getting worse though.’
‘It is, but my trusty steed has four-wheel drive and this car’s designed to cope with extreme conditions. It seems to get a starring role in lots of Bond films and gets driven in some fairly interesting places.’
‘Usually by villains,’ Izzy protested, laughing.
He pulled what she guessed was supposed to be a villainous face.
‘You’re not scaring me.’
She folded her arms across her chest and peered out of the window but there wasn’t much to see aside from darkness and the feathery flakes like wayward moths fluttering hopelessly into the car’s headlights. Even the road signs they passed were now obscured by a layer of snow. Around them the hills loomed like ghostly giants biding their time, their black, craggy faces contoured by snow-filled crevices, creating stern profiles. Ross had reduced his speed as they climbed a particularly steep hill and down in the valley, Izzy could make out a thin, dark ribbon where the river cut through.
Even with four-wheel drive the car slipped sideways as they crawled along at a painful twenty miles an hour, the wheels crunching and squeaking on the fresh snow. When they crested the hill, Ross decreased the speed, maintaining a steady pace down the winding road, his hands holding the steering wheel at exactly ten to two, as if textbook driving would see them through.
Visibility was getting worse and Ross was having to lean forward to see the road properly. Izzy swallowed and pulled the coat on her lap up to her chin. Although the heater was on full blast and her bottom was nice and toasty with the heated seat, looking outside made her feel cold. She might have been born and bred in Scotland but most of her life had been spent in the city and now she was conscious of the sparsity of people in this area. Cocooned in the vortex of snow, it felt claustrophobic and the atmosphere in the car grew heavier as Ross grimly pressed on, neither of them speaking. Drifts began to build up on the road edges, narrowing the dark tarmac strip and increasing the sense of being closed in. The minutes seemed to stretch into hours and every time Izzy surreptitiously checked her watch it felt as if they were as far from home as ever. It was now nearly one in the morning.
‘Here we go. Glencoe,’ said Ross, peering at the sign. ‘After this it’s only another five miles.’
They drove at snail’s pace into the small town. ‘If we weren’t so close to home, I’d suggest stopping,’ Izzy offered.
‘Everywhere is going to be closed at this time of night anyway.’
Ross slowed down, careful, Izzy noted, to avoid using the brakes. But even so, when they took the turn off the main road right onto the smaller road, the car slid sideways for a couple of seconds.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Ross, once the car was straight again, reaching over and patting her hand. ‘We’re not so far now. If we take it nice and steady, we’ll be home soon.’
As they left the lights of the town behind, they plunged into the dark again, the black water of
Loch Leven on their left and the forest that folded down the hills on their right.
If the gritters had been through, any sign was now long gone. The road ahead to Kinlochleven was completely white. Izzy shivered as the car slid sideways again, watching Ross’s hands tense on the steering wheel.
‘I’ve never been out in anything this bad before,’ said Izzy. ‘I suppose I’d better get used to it.’
‘Always make sure you’ve got blankets, a shovel and a torch in the boot, and if you know it’s going to snow take a hot flask of something.’
