EIGHT - ASH

I HAVE TO WALK AWAY because the sight of the road covered in snow triggers something locked away in my mind, brought about from seeing her in Jess’s clothes beside it. All of a sudden, I’m driving again. Jess beside me, laughing at the babbling noises coming from the back. Ally strapped into her baby seat. She is facing the back of the car but we have two mirrors set up so we can keep an eye on her. She’stalking away to herself, mimicking our conversation for the first time.

“Ba ba ba ba,” she says between blowing raspberries.

I only glance up at the mirror for a second and that is all it takes.

“It’s really coming down out there,” Jess says just as the steering gets away from me. I am there again, it is happening again. The car begins to spin, fishtailing one way and then the other. Ally isn’t talking anymore, she’s screaming as we jolt from left to right, hitting the fence at the edge of the road and smashing straight through it. I have my foot on the brake, pressed to the floor to no avail.

“Stop,” Jess cries but I can do nothing. It’s as if I’m an observer, not a driver. Time seems to slow down. Rolling down the hill takes hours even though afterwards I am told it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. When the car comes to a rest, I am alone in the world. The two people I love more than anything are gone and so is my heart. It turns black and dark and bitter and I thought that was how things would always be.

I have barely walked into the treeline when I stop, staggering against a huge pine trunk. I get my breathing under control, blinking as I come back to the present. My heart is racing, thudding in my chest as adrenaline courses through me. It’s all so real.

I didn’t think I could ever love again. I didn’t think I could ever look at another woman. When the urges came, I ignored them, hoping they’d go away. But with her, something has changed. It is the first time I’ve seen a woman and not felt anger or pain. An overwhelming sense of guilt wash over me, like I shouldn’t feel anything good anymore, not after what has happened to me.

I need to see her again. I walk out of the trees and she’s still standing by the car looking worried. She smiles so broadly when she sees me that a spark of heat grows in me. I don’t deserve someone who smiles like that. She is meant to be with someone like her, not someone as screwed up as me. It’s better that she’s going.

But I can’t help walking over to her, about to tell her she can stay. I am confused as hell in my head, the flashback making me dizzy. I open my mouth to say she can come back to the cabin when a snow plough comes roaring down the hill, spraying plumes of white towards us both. I realise first, ducking behind the car and pulling her down with me. The snow flashes over our heads like a fountain but the vehicle shields us from getting covered completely.

I stand up, starting to brush snow from her car with my arm as she gets slowly to her feet. “Thanks,” she says.

As the thick clumps of snow fall from the window, I notice the back seats are crammed full with boxes. She sees where I’m looking.

“I’m moving,” she says, pulling the front door open and starting the engine, switching the heating to full before turning to face me again. “I don’t want to.”

I nod and it all comes spilling out of her in one go. I get the feeling she hadn’t been able to share with anyone before.

“It’s a crappy houseshare with three people I’ve never met and I only picked this place because it’s all I can afford without my parents help and I’m not asking them for help because I don’t need it.” She pauses for breath before continuing. “All I wanted was some peace but I don’t know. Can you get peace in a house with three students?”

I shrug.

“I can’t live at home anymore. I just can’t They’re so angry all the time. They say they want to protect me but I think they just don’t want me to grow up and the noise, Christ, you wouldn’t believe the noise. If they’re not yelling at each other, they’re yelling at me and I just want a bit of peace, is that too much to ask? I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

I put my hand on her arm, squeezing softly. “It’s all right,” I say.

What I was thinking at that moment was that if she asked if she could stay with me, I would say yes without a moment’s hesitation. There is a single crystal clear second of clarity in my head. She has to ask and I have to say yes. It’s that simple.

She doesn’t ask. She gets the last of the snow from the windscreen before climbing into the driver’s seat. “Well, goodbye,” she says as I look in at her. “I guess I’ll see you around maybe?”

I nod, saying nothing.

I watch her skid out onto the road, swerving slightly before heading solidly away. I can’t help but think of her car spinning down the hillside but then she’s driving fine and then she’s out of sight, the only sound that of her engine fading slowly away.

I walk back into the woods. As she talked, she looked like she was in pain. All I wanted to do was protect her, look after her, keep her safe. But how could I do that when I couldn’t even keep my infant daughter safe? What right did I have to make decisions like that?

I get back to the cabin and wrap the fawn’s injured leg. With Ica by the fire, the fawn gets a drink. That I can do. I can bring animals together. I can’t bring people together. I can barely keep myself together. The fire is dying again but this time I don’t bother to rekindle it. I don’t deserve the heat. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I am filled with guilt. I find the hidden bottle of rum from the back of the cupboard. I sit down hoping to finish the bottle before falling asleep. I almost manage it.