Molly
‘Everyone almost done?’ Valek’s strong voice boomed across the frozen lake, sending a burst of excited whimpers spreading through the dogs. There was something so human about their noises that Molly could almost hear them calling to each other. I’m ready to go. Ready to go! Let’s go. Go. Go. Go. Go.
Valek weaved between the sleds, examining each of the lines, tightening harnesses and checking the clips. He nodded at Molly. ‘Good lines.’
‘Thanks,’ Molly said, feeling the same buzz of excitement as the dogs. She couldn’t wait to get going again. Despite the exhaustion weighing down her legs, she felt lighter than she had done in months. A week ago the thought of telling someone she barely knew about Billy’s death would’ve seemed ridiculous, impossible even, but talking to Noah had felt easy, not just easy, it had felt right.
When Molly had agreed to this trip she’d been looking for a brief escape, but she’d found so much more. Erica had been right all along – Molly had needed this challenge.
Before she’d fallen asleep last night Molly had thought about her life at home. The three-bed terrace in Walkley she shared with her mum and God knows how many cats she’d find on her return.
What had Molly done with her days? How had she got through one day, let alone an entire year of nothing? Of making cups of tea for her mum, of vacuuming cat hair off the carpet, and popping to Asda for a few bits and pieces. How had she lived like that?
She had so much anger inside her, it had felt some days as though her blood was boiling in it. Molly didn’t know how to begin letting it out, but for the first time she wanted to try. Really try. She’d functioned on autopilot in the months following Billy’s death. She’d gone to training. She’d eaten the right foods, kept her training regime going, gone to bed at the right time.
Except she hadn’t slept, and eventually the insomnia had taken its toll and her autopilot had shut down. But rather than try to find a way through it, she’d stopped living altogether. Not any more. Things would be different from now on, Molly promised herself.
‘Er … hello?’ Rachel called out from the sled next to Molly’s. ‘I’m not ready.’
Molly glanced over as Rachel’s head bobbed up from the sled line. A pure white dog wriggled between her legs.
‘Molly,’ Rachel said, catching her eye. ‘Would you mind giving me a hand?’
Molly glared at Rachel for a moment. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why. Why would she help her? Or just to say an outright no, no way. But however much of a bitch Rachel might be, Molly wasn’t like that.
‘Sure.’ Molly shrugged, jumping from her sled and over to Rachel. Molly slipped her gloved fingers through the dog’s collar as Rachel stood up straight, grabbing her shoulder.
‘Thanks,’ Rachel said.
‘What’s he called?’ Molly asked.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Rachel called. ‘I’ve forgotten all their names.’
Molly bent down and rubbed her gloves over the husky’s wolf-like straight white fur. Her touch calmed his wriggling, allowing Molly to clip the line to the front catch of his harness.
The dog wagged his tail and turned his head, grinning at Molly with eyes the same blue as the winter sky above their heads. There was something ghostly about the pale eyes, lined with black, and the white fur. As if the husky had ice running through his veins. A shiver trickled down Molly’s spine and she stood up quick enough to make her head spin.
‘Thank you,’ Rachel said again, handing Molly the last of her dogs to attach to the line. ‘My shoulder’s still sore and I’m struggling to reach down to get the lines clipped on. I’d have asked Erica,’ Rachel said, nodding to Erica’s sled on the other side of Rachel, ‘but she doesn’t seem too keen on her own dogs, let alone mine.’
Erica had stepped from her sled and was standing on the snow beside them, hovering and ready to jump into the conversation at any moment. Like a big sister coming to the rescue, Molly thought, sticking her tongue out at Erica and rolling her eyes.
‘It’s fine. I can help,’ Molly said, wondering why Rachel hadn’t just asked Noah. ‘How’s your shoulder?’
Rachel pulled a face. ‘It’s sore. I think … I think I made a mistake. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.’
‘Oh.’ What did Molly say to that? Rachel’s remark sounded so genuine. Rachel’s goggles were resting on top of her hat and Molly could see the dark crescents of exhaustion under her eyes.
‘Look, I wanted to say – I’m sorry. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot and that’s my fault. I don’t expect you to magically turn around and like me.’
‘That’s all right then,’ Molly mumbled, wondering how in the space of twenty seconds she was now feeling sympathy for a woman who only six days ago had called Frankie and Harry twin-dle-dumb and twin-dle-dumber.
‘I am sorry, though. It’s not easy to say this, but Noah and I … we’ve had a really tough time recently. I get defensive and take it out on others. It’s not a good excuse, but it’s the truth.’
Another dollop of honesty that Molly had no idea what to do with. Who was this person? The Rachel Molly had seen so far had been more than just defensive, she’d been an outright bitch.
‘I’m sure you’ll work it out.’
Rachel made a noise, an ‘umpf’. ‘Considering that we –’
‘Everything all right?’ Erica chirped. ‘I think Valek’s keen to go.’
‘Yep all set.’ Molly smiled, stepping back to her sled and pulling another face at Erica for interrupting when Rachel had been about to tell Molly something about Noah. Had they broken up? Had another fight?
Her thoughts drifted to Noah and the fizz of life she’d felt lying beside him on the captured tent; how easy it felt to sit beside him and say nothing at all, or share her worst memories.
A smile danced on her lips. Noah had told her things too. ‘It’s like you’re a torch.’ The thought of him cutting himself was horrifying, and yet Molly understood all too well the need to try to escape something inside, something inescapable.
She liked Noah a lot, Molly realized with another fizz of excitement before pushing the thought away. Whatever was going on between Noah and Rachel, they were still together, still engaged to be married. Besides, she hardly knew him. Except it didn’t feel that way. They’d spoken until dawn on their first night in the Arctic. There was something about him. A kindred spirit of insomnia. The thought made her smile again. Not that she’d had any trouble sleeping the past few nights, Molly thought as she released the brake and felt the familiar pull of exertion from the dogs.