He reached out and touched her arm, an expression of pain crossing his face. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yes, you keep saying that,’ she said, shaking off his hand. Why did he make it sound as if it were out of his control? Bloody men.
She stomped forward towards the loch, its edges blurred by the snow and her vision clouded with stupid, self-pitying tears. There were sections that had iced over and it was difficult to see where the water ended and the land began but she wanted to put some distance between them. She refused to let him see that she was hurt. It wouldn’t achieve anything, only further pile on the humiliation.
A loud crack reverberated under her foot and she stopped dead, looking down.
‘Izzy!’ Ross yelled.
Beneath her feet the snow began to separate, black water surging up through the cracks. Icy cold swept over her feet and too late she realised she’d stepped out onto the ice hidden under the snow. Before she could turn to go back to safety, the surface disintegrated and for a second she teetered on the edge. Then she was falling, her body already recoiling against the certain cold. The water clawed at her thighs, her waist and then circled her chest with an iron grip. With a panicked gasp at the sheer icy temperature, she felt her lungs freeze. Fingers of ice trickled down her neck as she bobbed in the water, weighted by her heavy layers. She went under. Water went up her nose, into her mouth, and she could taste the peaty earthiness as her teeth went into shock. Cold. So cold. It took her breath away. The whole world was ice and her brain had frozen too. Every muscle had tensed and she couldn’t seem to get control of her limbs. The loss of control terrified her and something forced her to move. With a sudden burst of panic she forced herself upwards.
‘Izzy! Izzy!’ She heard Ross shouting but her mind was in chaos. ‘Grab the branch.’
She was only a couple of metres from the edge and as the water ran over her head, the icy chill frosting her face, she saw him waving a large branch towards her. She could barely feel her hands but she reached out, twigs snapping as she tried to grasp it. Her hands wouldn’t work. With a desperate heave she wrapped her arms around the branch, like a koala hugging a tree.
‘Izzy! Izzy! Izzy!’ Her mother’s cries filled the air, shrill and hysterical.
‘Hold on, McBride.’ The lines on Ross’s face were taut with strain as he heaved the branch back. ‘Come on. I’ve got you.’
She hugged the branch harder as Ross pulled her waterlogged body towards him. Her feet touched the bottom and she scrambled towards the bank. Ross grabbed one of her flailing arms and pulled her out, hauling her up against him. Her teeth chattered so hard she was in danger of biting her tongue and she couldn’t feel her hands.
‘Take her clothes off,’ commanded Alicia, already peeling her own coat off. ‘We need to get her warm and dry. Xanthe, your scarf.’
Izzy stood unable to do anything as Ross peeled off her coat. Xanthe went to work on the zip of her trousers, as Alicia pulled off her jumper and undershirt in one go and began drying her with the scarf. In seconds Izzy was naked, standing barefoot on Ross’s scarf, déjà vu clamouring at the sight of her feet and the green wool scarf together again. The two women rubbed her briskly before enveloping her in Alicia’s big down coat.
‘I’ll go back to the house and get an electric blanket switched on, on one of the beds,’ said Xanthe. ‘We need to get her warmed up as quickly as possible. Ross, do you think you can carry her?’
The warmth of Alicia’s coat was bliss on Izzy’s skin as Ross scooped her in his arms. She closed her eyes as her body betrayed her by settling into his hold.
‘It’s all right, Izzy. We’ve got you.’
She stared up at him, shock a stranglehold on her body. His blue eyes were creased with worry and concern and she heard an odd mumbling and realised it was her trying to speak but she had no idea what she was trying to say and her lips were so numb she couldn’t actually form any words. It was as if she were divorced from herself. All she could feel was cold. Cold everywhere. Her hair heavy and wet, ice seeping into her skull.
‘Hat.’ Alicia snatched Ross’s woollen beany hat from his head and stuffed it on Izzy’s, pulling it down almost to her nose, covering her ears. The sudden warmth was a momentary reprieve that she could focus on but she couldn’t stop the violent shivers that had taken over her body.
‘It’s okay, Izzy. We’ll get you back to the house and warmed up in no time.’ Xanthe grabbed her hand and forced her own gloves onto her trembling fingers. ‘You’re going to be fine.’ There was a crack in Xanthe’s voice, as if she were trying to reassure herself as much as Izzy.
Izzy tried to speak to her mother but there was a numbness to everything as she fought through cotton wool trying to make sense of her situation. But some primeval response had taken charge and she was reduced to a shaking wreck, unable to do any more than mutter gibberish.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Izzy burrowed into the blessed warmth of her bed. Warm. She was warm. The memory of the grip of icy water lit up her brain and she snuggled back. Disjointed memories floated. Alicia drying her hair with fierce blasts from the hairdryer. Xanthe urging her limbs into pyjamas. Ross carrying her into bed and tucking her in tight like a mummy. She closed her eyes, revelling in the heat that she could feel under the sheets. An electric blanket. She shivered again, despite being warm. The cold. It had been so unrelenting. So terrifying. She didn’t want to wake up properly. She wasn’t even sure where she was but she knew that she didn’t want to leave this cosy burrow.
When she surfaced again, this time her mind had sharpened, casting off the blurry edges.
She kept her eyes closed because it was too much effort to lift the lids.
‘Mum was amazing,’ she heard Ross say. ‘She completely took charge, knew what to do. Whereas I didn’t have a clue.’
‘She’s a smart woman,’ said Graham, with a definite touch of pride.
‘I know,’ said Ross with a sigh. ‘But…’
There was a silence and Izzy waited, instinctively aware that he wanted to say something important.
‘How do you do it, Dad?’
His dad gave a small chuckle. ‘I give thanks every day that I found your mother. I know you find it hard and when you were younger, embarrassing. She’s a force to be reckoned with, but do you know what? She’s majestic. An amazing, talented, passionate, full-spirited woman.’
