Day 3
Molly
The world was grey. Like the old black and white movies that played on Channel 4 on rainy Sunday afternoons when Molly had been a kid.
Mountain peaks cut across the landscape in the distance: some covered in the same unblemished white that stretched across every inch of the ground. Others were slate grey with a dusting cover of white, like icing on cakes her mum used to bake. The peaks of the mountain were lost in a cloud the same dark grey as the cliff edge so it was impossible to tell where the sky ended and the earth began.
Between the camp they’d made and the mountains, the landscape was flat and covered with spindly short trees that appeared black against the snow. The trees stood in clusters that increased in size as they neared the mountain. Despite the wind – constantly buffeting against Molly’s body – the trees remained frozen and unmoving like ice sculptures.
Molly started walking. She was still warm from the exertion of moving the dogs to the lines for the night and setting up the tent, but the first bite of cold was seeping through her layers as she headed for the square block of concrete a metre wide and hip high in front of her, and covered in a cushioned blanket of snow. A small rectangular slab sat on top of the block, like a three-sided book, signifying the border point between Norway, Sweden, and Finland.
A sudden gust of wind blew a scattering of snow into Molly’s face. She brushed the powder away from her lashes and shivered. After a full day of wearing the protective goggles, the ridge of soft plastic had begun to pinch Molly’s nose and it had been a relief to take them off and blink in the last of the natural daylight, but now she wished she hadn’t left them in the tent.
‘Hey,’ Frankie called out as the twins strode over to her. ‘So oh my God, how awesome was today?’ Frankie said.
‘What did you think, Moll?’ Harry asked.
Molly smiled, catching the infectious energy of the twins. ‘It was good.’ And it had been. Molly had remained in her place, and kept her mind focused on driving the sled. The exhilaration had been nipping at the corners of her mind, but she’d ignored it, and by the time they’d pulled to a stop by the tri-nation border and set up camp Molly had felt almost light-headed from the focus on driving the sled.
‘Tomorrow’s going to be tough,’ Frankie said. ‘Valek was telling us about the mountains we’re going up. It’s where he lost his fingers.’
‘Really?’ Molly asked.
‘That’s what he said.’ Harry shrugged, rubbing at the indent on her forehead from a day wearing ski goggles. Molly guessed she had the same marks on her own face too.
‘And his wife lost three toes,’ Frankie added. ‘They got marooned in a snowstorm.’
Harry pulled out a chunky black camera from her pocket. She took off the lens cap and rubbed a gloved finger over the screen. ‘We’d better be quick with this selfie, Frankie, before my camera freezes. Do you want to be in it, Molly? We’re taking a photo of us standing in different countries.’
‘Erm … how about I take the photo instead. That way you’ll get a better angle of the monument.’
‘Super, thanks,’ Frankie said, grinning a toothy grin as she leant over the stone. Harry did the same from the other side of the rock, keeping her lips together as she smiled.
‘How’s Rachel’s arm?’ Harry asked, packing her camera away.
They turned together and surveyed the camp. Molly’s eyes fell on Rachel and Noah, the last to finish pitching their tent. Rachel was standing to one side holding her arm, whilst Noah skirted around the ground, digging the lines of the tent deep enough into the snow to secure the tent.
‘Fine, I guess,’ Molly said. ‘She decided to come so it can’t be that bad.’
‘Do you think they need a hand?’ Frankie asked.
Rachel’s bitchy comment about the twins ran through Molly’s head. ‘Nah. Looks like they’re almost done.’
‘Well I don’t know about anyone else but I’m starving,’ Harry added. ‘Let’s go eat.’
Molly watched the girls hike back to their tent. Group A had three tents – one for the twins, one for the teenage boys, and a third for their dad, Greg. The group had positioned their tents in a tight circle so that that their canopy shelters were almost touching, and Molly could see the camping stoves set up together in a communal huddle. The deep boom of Greg’s laughter drifted in the air.
Then there was Valek and Lee’s tent, pitched a few metres back, close to the dogs and the sleds. And finally group B. Erica and Molly’s tent was the furthest away, with Rachel and Noah setting up somewhere in the middle. If Molly needed any more clarity that group B were not getting along, this was it.
Noah seemed nice enough but he could stick up for Rachel all he wanted – there was nothing he could say that would change Molly’s mind about her.