A Winter’s Tale by Carrie Elks (5)

There was a trick to running in the snow. It took a different kind of person to see an hour out in the frozen landscape as a challenge, rather than a warning to go back indoors and warm up. Adam pulled his trail-running shoes – waterproof to keep out the cold – over his thick woollen socks, and zipped his windproof jacket over the thermal layers he’d put on earlier. The storm had died down sometime in the night, the clouds disappearing as though they were just wisps of smoke. Now the sky was a brilliant blue, the sun reflecting on the freshly fallen snow, making the layer of white sparkle like diamonds.

He started slowly, following his usual trail through the forest that lay between his cabin and the big house, feeling the snow give softly beneath his feet with each stride. As a child he’d learned that snow took on different characteristics depending on the flakes and the weather that immediately followed. Powder was good, ice was bad.

His route was the same every day. Partly because he knew where the snow was at its easiest, and partly because he had the survivor’s instinct that familiarity could mean rescue in an emergency – it was always those who went off-piste who ended up never being found. After he left the canopy of the evergreen trees he emerged into the clearing between the forest and the big house – what passed for a grassy lawn in the summer, once the snow had melted away. He carried on past the house, following the road for about half a mile, then looped back on himself, running along the perimeter of his parents’ estate before passing the house once again.

Sometimes he’d stop for a coffee with Annie before finishing his run back to the cabin. Not today, though. Not when Everett and Mia were in the house, lording it up. Best to avoid those two altogether.

He was almost back at the forest when he saw the two figures ahead of him, running and laughing as they exchanged volleys of snowballs. He slowed down, veering left in an attempt not to come in contact with them. A moment later the two of them turned, spotting him in his high-vis gear, standing out like a sore thumb against the white landscape.

He recognised Jonas straight away. His nephew was a good kid, a friendly, outgoing boy who seemed to idol-worship Adam in spite of his gruffness. He was wearing a thick jacket and snow pants, with a woollen hat and scarf covering him up. For a moment, Adam remembered how he’d seen him plunge into the lake the other day, his tiny body breaking through the thinnest layer of snow-covered ice. Adam had panicked, and ran from his spot inside his cabin as fast as he could, reaching the water only thirty seconds after seeing the boy fall.

But thirty seconds was all it took in weather like this. It was a miracle the kid hadn’t suffered any lasting damage.

It took a few moments more for Adam to work out who was with Jonas, maybe because she looked so different to the previous day. Gone were the sexy, tight jeans and the pitiful suede shoes, instead she was bundled up in an expensive snow-suit that cinched in at the waist, her long blonde hair flowing down her back. As she ran towards Jonas, holding a snowball aloft, her hair lifted up in the breeze, revealing her slender neck. She was laughing, though the smile froze on her face as she turned to look at Adam, dropping the snowball clutched in her gloved hand.

‘Uncle Adam!’ Jonas called out, his face open and warm. ‘Want to join our snowball fight?’

His plan to pass them unnoticed had clearly failed. Adam stopped running for a moment, lifting his hat off to cool down.

The girl was still staring at him.

Her skin was pink from the cold, her lips a cherry red. She had one of those perfect noses – the sort that people paid a lot of money to plastic surgeons for – lifting slightly up as it came to a peak.

‘Hey, Jonas.’ He shot the kid a smile. ‘Not now, maybe another time?’

The girl gave him a tentative smile, one that seemed to light up her whole face. Adam felt his muscles pull in an attempt to respond to it, his lips wanting to lift up into a smile of his own.

He dragged his gaze away from her, refusing to let his body respond. She’d driven him crazy yesterday, with her lack of awareness about the weather, her car, the deer. A typical city girl thinking that the mountains were just like suburbia but with a bit of snow and wildlife. The sort who came barrelling in, leaving a trail of devastation behind them.

He’d seen enough devastation to last him a lifetime. He definitely wasn’t going to invite any more in.

Lifting his hand in the weakest of goodbyes, he began to run again, his eyes trained on the line of trees ahead of him. He could feel the skin prickle on the back of his neck, as though she was staring at his retreating body. And he knew what her expression would be, too. He’d seen it last night when he’d all but pushed her out of his truck and onto the driveway of the big house. What had she called him then? Anything but a gentleman. For some reason that description rankled. It wasn’t as though he went through life trying to make girls cry. He was too busy just trying to get through the day.

By the time he reached his cabin Adam’s body was covered with a sheen of perspiration. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, screwing the thin material into a ball and throwing it onto the mat beside his door.

He finished his morning routine with a hundred pull-ups on the porch frame, contracting his large, iron biceps to lift his body. Staring out across the water, he could see the big house on the side of the mountain, and the plume of smoke that spiralled out of the chimney. He wondered if she was still there, staring at the gap where he’d disappeared into the forest.

He was still thinking about the girl as he opened the door to his cabin, hearing the creak of the hinges as it swung inside. He jumped, seeing the annoyingly familiar frame of his brother lounging on Adam’s easy chair, his ankles crossed and his feet resting on a hand-crafted wooden coffee table that Adam had made himself. Everett’s smart, sleek business suit was a contrast to the roughness of the cabin’s interior.

Stalking across the living room, Adam opened the cupboard and grabbed a fresh towel before heading towards the bathroom. Pointedly ignoring his brother, he walked into the tiny cubicle and pulled off his sweaty clothes.

Everett was still sitting there when Adam emerged ten minutes later. He was still wet from the shower, a white towel wrapped around his slim hips. Refusing to acknowledge his intruder, Adam grabbed a bottle of water from his refrigerator, lifting it to his dry lips and gulping it down.

‘How long are you planning to ignore me for?’

His brother’s words reminded Adam of his therapist. He leaned on the kitchen worktop, the bottle still clasped in his hand. ‘As long as it takes,’ he said, meeting Everett’s gaze.

‘So that’s it. We have a little falling-out and suddenly I’m not welcome here? What happened to family loyalty?’

Adam steepled his hands, in an unconscious mirror of his brother’s stance. ‘I was wondering the same thing myself. Have been since last September.’

Everett sighed, his chest rising and falling in an overexaggerated movement. ‘Isn’t that all over with? Mom told me your therapy was going well. I thought you would’ve dealt with it by now.’

Adam stared at his brother, trying to work out how they’d ended up like this. Though they’d been close once, growing up, there were few similarities between the brothers, either physically or in personality. Sometimes Adam found it hard to believe the two of them were related. But as boys they’d been inseparable, the older Everett making up stories and planning escapades, while the younger, stronger Adam would carry out their plans, adding his brawn to Everett’s brains. Even at high school they’d made a good team – with only one academic year dividing them they were often together. When Everett’s overactive mind got him into trouble, it was Adam’s fists that would help him to find an escape route. They’d been a band of brothers, the Klein kids. Nobody messed with them, not if they had any sense.

As they became older, their lives naturally diverged. Everett had always been driven to succeed, forcing his way to the top of film school with sheer determination. Adam’s journey through school had been more roundabout. He’d started off studying directing, and then became naturally attracted to the long-form of documentary making. With his nose for the truth, he’d found a way to coax the most reluctant interviewees to reveal more than they wanted to. Some said his good looks didn’t hurt him, either. More than one female was an avid Adam Klein fan because of the way he looked on camera.

But this divide between them was more than two brothers growing up. It was a chasm, caused by the events of last summer, leaving Everett standing on one side of the hole and Adam on the other. Neither one of them appeared to be willing to bridge the gap. Instead they were waiting for the other to somehow jump across.

Not that it was ever going to happen.

‘I’m going to therapy because the police insisted on it,’ Adam reminded his brother. ‘And we all know who called them in the first place.’

Everett looked wounded. If Adam didn’t know him better, he’d have said it was genuine. ‘We had no choice.’

Adam swallowed the last mouthful of water, throwing the empty plastic bottle into the recycling bin. It landed inside with a satisfying thud. ‘There’s always a choice.’ Not that he was particularly bothered about busting his brother’s balls over the phone call. That was the least of his misdemeanours.

‘Can’t we let bygones be bygones?’ Everett asked him. ‘It’s almost Christmas. Mom’s being released from the hospital. She deserves to have her family around her. All of us.’ He spoke louder to emphasise the last part, as though Adam hadn’t already gotten the point.

‘You’ve spent too long working in the movies,’ Adam pointed out. ‘You’re starting to believe in all that shit. Happily ever after and family reunions only happen on the screen. And you know why?’ His hands were still fisted. He held them tightly by his side. Everett couldn’t see them, they were obscured by the kitchen worktop, but if he could, he’d probably be pleased at the reaction he was getting. ‘Because they’re all fucking lies, every last one of them. They’re like that Ray Bradbury story where those guys land on Mars and it looks just like home – some kind of Rockwellian idyll with Mom and Pop and mash for tea. But then as soon as it’s night-time the masks melt, and the real aliens appear.’

‘And you’ve spent too long investigating the bad guys. You’re starting to see them everywhere, even when they’re not there. I’m your brother, Adam, not your enemy. Why can’t we just leave all that stuff behind?’

Adam grabbed a freshly laundered T-shirt from the basket beside him, pulling it over his head to cover his now-dry chest. Everett made it sound so easy, as though forgetting the past was like closing a door. Everett may have perfected the act of the good older brother, but Adam was older and wiser now.

He could smell bullshit from a hundred yards.

‘I’ll be civil to you for as long as you’re here,’ Adam said, keeping his voice low. ‘But don’t think it means anything because it doesn’t. I’ll do it for Mom and Dad, and I’ll do it for Jonas.’

Everett nodded. Standing up, he brushed the creases from his trousers. ‘I guess that’s it then.’

It was as far as Adam was concerned. He wanted Everett out of his home – of the place that had somehow become his sanctuary. And the sooner the better.

Everett cleared the distance to Adam’s front door, grabbing his snow jacket from the hook on the frame. ‘By the way, this place is a shithole, I can’t believe you live somewhere like this.’

Before Adam had a chance to reply his brother was gone, slamming the door shut behind him. The younger – and bigger – of the Klein brothers stood alone in the kitchen, his blood boiling.

As always, Everett had to have the last word.