‘You were too sick.’
‘What’s wrong with me?’
‘Bad case of the flu, I reckon. It’s going round. NowI’m going to fetch you a glass of water, then I’ll stoke the Aga and light all the fires, including the one in here.’
‘I don’t usually get so ill.’
‘I know. Lie back down for now. Once the house is warm, we’ll see what’s to be done. This room needs airing.’
‘I can’t get down the stairs.’
He smiled. ‘I’ll think of something.’
‘There were ravens. I knew something bad was going to happen when I saw them.’
He brought her a glass of water and she held it in a shaking hand. Then he went to warm up the house.
A little later he was back, and she struggled to sit up again as he perched on the bed beside her.
‘The fire is going great guns, so I’m going to carry you down to the sitting room. I need to change your sheets and open the windows. I’ll light a fire in here a little later.’
She nodded.
‘The Aga takes longer to heat up so I can’t make you a hot drink yet. Now I’m going to put an arm around your shoulders and then your legs. Ready?’
He lifted her out of the bed.
‘Goodness. You weigh nothing at all. Have you been eating while I’ve been away?’
When Florence woke the next morning, she knew she was on the mend. She’d slept soundly, with no ravens flying around her room and no new dreams that she could recall. ‘I must have been a bit delirious the other night,’she thought, shivering at the recollection of the nightmare about Hélène. Gingerly she slid round to sit on the edge of the bed and then tested her legs. So far so good. But something was different. Apart from the spluttering sound she could hear coming from the Aga below, the outside world seemed to have completely silenced. She managed to creep across to the window and opened the curtain. ‘Oh,’ she gasped.
The whole world had turned white. The hill behind the cottage, the naked trees, the bushes. She found her dressing gown and opened her bedroom door. Jack must have heard her from downstairs as he was instantly there, coming to help.
‘I’m so pleased you’re up.’
‘The snow.’
‘I know.’
‘We’ve got no food.’
‘We’ve plenty. While you were dozing by the fire yesterday, I got some bits and pieces from Ronnie. Plus I’d already brought back a few leftovers from London. Come on, you need to eat.’
He supported her with an arm around her waist and slowly they went down to the kitchen, which was now warm and cosy. He pulled out a chair for her where she could look out across the frozen water meadow.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘Bracing. Maybe we could go for a walk in the snow.’
‘Not today. There are huge drifts at both the back and front doors. I’d have to dig us out.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Let’s just wait until you’re well. In any case, the cold snap is set to last a few days. Porridge do you?’
‘I should say so.’ Relieved to be feeling better, she laughed for the first time in ages, and it felt so good. While he stirred the pan, she sat transfixed by the view from the window. ‘It’s snowing again. Look. Isn’t it magical?’
‘You are just like a child,’ he said, pointing the spatula at her.
For three days they remained indoors and watched the snow as it kept on falling and swirling beyond their windows. Aside from the beauty of it, Florence felt as if the outside world beyond the snow had stopped existing and there were only the two of them. She had never been happier. Jack read to her and told her funny stories and she shared a little about writing in her journal. Much of the time she slept, curled up in the big armchair beside the fire in the sitting room while Jack cooked for her and made sure she was comfortable.
