I look upwards past his ear. ‘There are stars, I know they’re there, we just can’t see them yet …’
He laughs. ‘For once I didn’t mean stars, I was thinking more that the sky looks full of snow …’
I have to check. ‘Are you joking me again?’
He’s smiling down at me. ‘Would I joke about somethingthatserious?’
If he’s trying to give me a reason to snog the pants of him in gratitude, I’m very happy to do it.
But when we go out much later to take Merwyn for his phone-light walk along the beach it still hasn’t snowed and if anything the icy blast off the sea is less cold not more.
‘Still no snow then? What did your famous BBC weatherman say about that?’
He wrinkles his nose. ‘Tomasz said it would snow when it warmed up.’
And as I huddle inside Bill’s coat the sky I’m looking up at is very dark.
‘It’s too cloudy for stars tonight too.’
‘So many disappointments.’ Bill laughs. ‘We can’t see the stars, but if you look really carefully can you see those tiny flecks falling out of the sky?’
‘If I half close my eyes I think I can.’
‘They’re little pieces of falling stars.’
‘Is that a Cornish thing, then?
In the half light I see him biting his lip. ‘Only teasing. I don’t want to get your hopes up … but I think they might be snowflakes …’
