‘Big stuff.’
Tamara leans down to look at something on the computer.‘I just thought, if she is having some difficulties, she might be trying to deal with it on her own, which means we should check in on her.She’s always been fiercely independent.She still drives that bloody enormous tractor around herself, but she really is gettingon a bit now.And it’s not like we can propose putting either of them up in any of the local care homes because they would never leave the animals anyway.’
‘So, I guess we’ll just have to find another way to help them.’
Tamara nods, her mind elsewhere.She must be worried.‘I know it’s a tricky situation but it’s odd for her to reach out.’
‘We’ll go help,’ says Christopher.‘Don’t worry.’
‘Thank you.I’d go up with you but—’
‘You need to stay here and make sure Ursula doesn’t take over,’ mutters Shaz, which sparks the smallest of grins from Tamara.
‘I need to just help make sure things are running and it helps that I’m the councillor, as most people know me or at least my name.People like to know who they can ask for help, so it makes sense for me to be here.They’re both a little like family.’She takes a deep breath.‘And credit to her, the reason I know there’s any capacity in the care homes in general is because Ursula, who runs the big one down on the seafront, went through their books to see if they could take anyone particularly vulnerable who needs some extra help.’
Shaz hmms, clearly not yet willing to give Ursula any credit.
‘I can go, if you want to stay here,’ Christopher murmurs to Nash, hoping the others won’t hear it.He’s giving him an out, an opportunity for a break from each other.Perhaps they need this.
‘Why?’Tamara says, making Christopher wince.‘You’ve been doing everything together.You’re the dream duo, I’ve heard.’
Well.So much for that.
* * *
Tamara hands them some directions and they head back to the van straight away.As it snowed a little bit overnight,Nash takes the opportunity to do some checks before they head off, but everything seems to be running well.
‘Where first?’he asks, clipping his seatbelt in.
‘Dai, I presume?Find out what’s wrong, and then when we’ve fixed it, we can go check in on Thelma?You’ll have to navigate on the map, if that’s all right?’He faces forward as though watching the road, even though they’re still stationary.
‘It’s what we’ve been doing the whole time, Calloway.’He had hoped this familiarity might break some of the tension, but Christopher seems stiff in the bad way again.‘Did we need anything else for the prepper bag before we go?’
‘You’re the one who put a saw in the back of the van.I think we’ll be okay.’
Nash manages to find the farms on the map thanks to the directions Tamara wrote down for them.Always good to have both to hand in a snowstorm.
He laughs to himself.‘It’s all the Boy Scout skills at play this Christmas.If I’d known, I’d have done a refresher course or something.’
‘I’m not sure you can do a refresher course on Scouting as an adult.’
‘Pity.But luckily I’ve got the boy-scoutiest Boy Scout ever to scout his way in the driver’s seat.’
This, at least, rouses a small smile from Christopher.
Nash has never been a nervous driver or passenger, but the tiny winding roads up around the mountain and into the farmlands are really testing his resolve.Even the roads in the countryside in Canada were bigger than this.These are definitely not the freeways of LA, though they’re terrifying in a whole different way.He technically has theabilityto drive (if not the legal okay) but he’s pretty sure that nothing in his Drivers’ Ed classes would have covered piloting a recently fixed bakery truck down curiously serpentine, snowed-in Welsh roads with an uptight Englishman.
‘Hang on, can you slow down?’he asks, peering at the road, and to the map again.
Christopher complies.‘Do I need to turn back?’
‘No, I’m ...just not sure this is a road.It looks like a hiker’s trail.Not that I can tell from all the snow.’
‘I think, unfortunately, it is a proper road.’
Nash retraces their steps on the map, and it does appear to be an actual road for people to drive down, in theory.‘Drive on, I guess,’ he says, a little nervously.
There’s barely room for their truck, and as they drive, they take bits of snow-topped hedge from both sides with them.Beside him, Christopher winces at the occasional scraping sound on metal.
