EVE

• Short story

								
EVE

It was raining hard when Joe left that evening, it was cold and wet. Joe did not like it like this, on Christmas Eve it should be snowing not raining. He was on his way to see his daughter and her old dog; she lived in an isolated cottage near Aberystwyth halfway up a mountain near a place called Devils Bridge. She had lived there alone since her husband failed to come home after the first gulf war, no one knew for certain what had become of him, and she would not leave that place until she knew for sure. That way if he did come back, he would know exactly where to find her. Joe always made the trip on Christmas Eve he never told her he was coming he would just knock on her door at about ten o’clock at night and arrive the ‘Unexpected guest’ to stay the night. Joe was driving the camper van that he had traded his car for after his wife left him alone. He had made some improvements himself and the camper had developed into a huge consumer of his otherwise vacant time. Oh, he had a house, but the camper was an interest he perused with the avarice of a child in a sweetshop, he would drive to somewhere he had never been before just for the hell of it. He had fitted a compass to the dashboard so that he would always know which way he was travelling, and he had a TV, microwave, stereo in fact everything he regarded as comfort that he had at home but in miniature. As he drove through the streets to the edge of town, he ran through his inventory in case there was anything he had forgotten. He ran the list of food and drink he had on board, not that he would need it because his little girl thought of everything. Whilst he waited for the red lights to struggle to green at the road works, he glanced across at the passenger seat and the Christmas wrapping paper. The snow dust he had sprinkled on the parcels glistened in the light of a car coming past refracting tiny shafts of starlight. Joe returned his eyes to the red light impeding his progress, as red changed to green he edged forward slowly taking care not to fall in the closeness of the ditch to his right. The road cleared as he picked up speed and began to cruise, he slammed in a tape and Tammy Wynette replaced the musical fayre of Christmas Eve. Joe was looking forward to his visit and hardly noticed the wiper blades slowing down under the weight of the snow that had become the replacement for the heavy rain. The camper tracked its way up the mountain pass that was the road to his daughter’s house. It was a sure- footed beast with its four-wheel drive, limited slip differentials and powered steering. Joe had to do very little to control it except be there. As he neared the top of the pass he noticed a car park on the left, it was still early yet so he decided to pull in and make some tea. It was dark but the fallen snow made things look brighter, the howling wind made it seem like he was inside one of those tall factory chimneystacks. He switched off the engine and swivelled the driver’s seat around to face the living quarters, he sat there in the dark for a moment listening to the tape on the player, in the background the storm going on outside. He felt the biting wind forcing its attention on the side of the camper made visible by the way the vehicle rocked at each new gust. He flicked the switch to turn on the fluorescent light tube, as it flashed into life his eyes squinted as they adjusted to the bright light. He drew some water from the tap and lifted the stove top, he stabbed at the air above the latent gas ring with a couple of flicks of the lighter his wife had given him some years before. As he set the kettle on the flame, he thought he heard something, a voice, a girl's voice screaming. He wiped the inside of the window with the back of his hand and peered out into the night, he could see nothing just the huge flakes of wet snow coming straight for his eyes, The kettle began to make that sound that accompanies water inside aluminium as it is heated by a naked flame. There it was again, the voice, this time louder and nearer. Joe opened the locker where he kept the torch, he had bought for just such a purpose, searching a car park on top of a mountain in a howling Christmas Eve gale. He took it from the box it came in; it said five- million candlepower, right thought Joe let's see. He pulled on the heavy coat he kept by the rear door and put on his thick gloves. He turned the gas off under the kettle and put his keys into his pocket, as he left the warmth of the camper by the back door the wind slammed the door shut, he could just hear the slam lock engage. He switched the torch on, its beam was solid light it reminded him of Luke Skywalker’s light sabre He stood still searching the car park with light; the sheep had come down from the mountain and were huddled in a bunch just beyond a wire mesh fence the wind ripping at their fleece. Everything was white, the snow had begun to pile up against the windward side of the camper, Joe retained the thought that he might have to dig himself out as he searched around for the source of the voice, but he could see nothing in the driving snow as it cut at his face. He turned to go back to the warmth of the camper thinking he had imagined it, he pulled off a glove with his teeth and scavenged the corners of his pocket with a cold hand for the key to the safety of his camper. Then he heard it again, the voice, now much closer, he squinted in the direction of the sound, that’s when he saw her, the girl. She was wearing a thin party dress of red cotton she could not have been more than sixteen or seventeen, no coat and light patent leather shoes. Joe looked around for a car or some obvious reason how she came to be there, but the only vehicle was his camper, he knew the last village he had passed was six miles down the mountain pass and the next place she could have come from was four miles further on. As he walked toward her, he saw her shaking with the cold. He unzipped his coat and took it off as he approached her. The snow was beginning to matt in her hair; he threw the coat around her still containing the warmth from his own body. “What are you doing here?” he shouted above the howling wind, she said nothing. Joe suspected that she was hypothermic, “You need to get warm” he shouted, still she said nothing. He struggled her through the snow to the rear door of the camper and opened the door with the key, which he had left engaged in the lock when he heard her voice. The wind took the door from his hand and hammered it flat against the rear of the camper. He was not quite sure how but when he had gained control of the door, she was inside the camper sitting down on a bench seat. Joe went inside and closed the door behind him. His one thought, the warmth to keep her alive. As he stabbed at the gas under the kettle with the silver lighter it ignited into a purple flame and the heating sound returned the unwanted heat from the flame warming the air of the camper, he opened the oven and lit it, that would additional heat to make the warmth come quicker. Joe opened the blanket locker and took out two red Witney blankets; removing his coat from her shoulders he wrapped her in the blankets and began to rub life back into her frozen hands and arms. There was little response her hands were blue with cold, the kettle reached its climax in a jet of steam from the spout, Joe decided to try a hot drink, maybe the cold was inside. He made some tea and as an after thought cracked open the bottle of Chivas Regal he had been saving for tomorrow, Joe was getting desperate and she seemed to be getting colder. He held the hot tea to her lips the twelve-year-old malt vaporising in the steam coming from the surface of the mug but try as he might he could not persuade her to drink. Joe thought for a minute, the girl needed more than he had, he picked up the mobile phone from its holder and looked at the display, it said “No service available” Joe began to get the impression he was no longer a resident of planet earth. He could not think what to do next but then arrived at the conclusion that if he could not do anything the police might be able to. 

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