The
unbelievable truth
It was one
of those winter nights when the wind had howled outside and the snow
had started to fall. I think we half expected the power cut, so when
it came we weren't particularly surprised. After we had scurried
about getting candles and making sure there was enough wood for the
fire, we sat around wondering what to do next.
“I could
tell you a story” I said.
“What sort
of story?” my youngest asked.
“Well it's
a true story that I was told when I was much younger than I am
now......”
“Yeah,
right,” muttered my eldest, grinning “you were never young”
“That
might be true, but I was younger”
“OK then what was this story?”
“It's
about a bunch of lads who had thought it was quite a good idea to
escape from the city for a lads weekend in the countryside”
“Where in
the countryside?” asked the youngest.
“Somewhere
a long way from anywhere really. Just outside a small village which
had a pub and a church and not a lot else.”
“Somewhere
like here then” said my eldest
“Somewhere
exactly like here” I said “I was told the story the very first
time I visited the village – when I was much younger than now as I
said”
“OK you
two” interjected my wife “let your Dad get on with the story, or
we'll never get to the end of it”
So I began
“These
lads had turned up in the village and rented a cottage, actually,
they had rented this cottage,
and the first night had been exactly as they had all anticipated.
They had walked the half mile to the local pub, had eaten there and
spent an enjoyable time drinking in the atmosphere and the guest
beers. They had happily rolled back to the cottage at about
midnight, and staggered to their respective beds. The next day they
got up late, had some breakfast and got ready to go out. The
forecast was for snow, so feeling a bit delicate, they decided to go
for a gentle amble rather than the 10 mile yomp that they had
originally envisaged.
“They had
been out for about an hour when the snow started to come in. At
first it was just a gentle fall of big fluffy flakes and it had been
a bit of a novelty trudging through the snow and seeing the
difference that a layer of snow made to the landscape. There wasn't
one of them that didn't think that they were Scott or Shackleton.
After a while, the wind started to pick up, but it was blowing at
their backs, and the little group trudged on happily enough, on the
whole enjoying the new experience. They were pretty well wrapped up
and none of them was feeling particularly cold so no one really
wanted to be the first to say that it might be a good idea to turn
back, but as the wind picked up and started blowing the snow into
drifts they all began to feel a little apprehensive. They couldn't
see where they were treading and the snow was deep enough in places
to rise over the tops of their boots. They continued in this way for
some time until one of them finally suggested that they turn back
while they still could.
“When they
turned around, they found they were facing into the wind and the snow
was blowing straight into their faces. It was almost impossible to
see where they were going and any landmarks that they might have
recognised from their journey out had been obliterated or disguised
by the snow. They struggled on, changing the lead frequently to
shield each other from the driving snow, trying to make the most of
the visible landmarks like hedges and trees. No one had brought a
compass and this was before satellite navigation and mobile phones,
so they weren't really sure where they were. The weather was taking
its toll and the stronger ones were taking longer shifts at the front
while the weaker ones began to tail off at the back. After another
hour or so of driving snow the leader of the column shouted over the
wind and pointed at a building which had appeared out of the gloom.
As far as they could, they hurried towards it and as they got nearer,
it became clear that by some navigational fluke, they had managed to
make it back to the rented cottage.”
“Which is
here” said my youngest quietly
“Yes,” I
agreed “which is here”
“With much
relief, they opened the door, stamped their frozen feet to knock the
snow off, and took off their coats. One of them boiled a kettle,
while another put a match to the fire.
“It was
only after they had settled themselves down in front of the fire with
a hot drink that they noticed that one of their number was not with
them. Perhaps he was still upstairs changing into dry clothes; they
checked, there was no one upstairs. Perhaps he was in the downstairs
toilet; not there either. This was a dilemma. They realised that to
go out to look for their friend was madness, but they couldn't just
wait it out. One of them went to the door and looked out. There was
nothing but a scene of complete whiteness and visibility was now down
to a matter of a couple of metres.
“They
decided that the only thing they could do was to put as many lights
and candles in as many windows as possible so that their friend would
see which way to come, and then they waited........”
“They sat
and waited for a long time, waiting for the sound of footsteps, the
sound of the door latch, the image of their friend silhouetted in the
doorway.......”
The room was
silent. My family were watching my face in anticipation, when the
front door was flung open and there silhouetted in the doorway was a
man covered from head to toe in snow. My family all jumped out of
their skin and my daughter screamed.
“Sorry for
the sudden entrance guys, but it's pretty foul out there. Anyone
fancy a lift to the pub? I've got the Land Rover outside”
My best
friend John pushed his hood back and pulled his scarf down over his
face taking in the scene in front of him.
“You
haven't been telling them that old story about the group caught in
the snow have you?”
I grinned.
“It seemed like an opportunity not to be missed”
“Well”
said my eldest, “did the lost one ever come back?”
“I
certainly did” I said “otherwise you two would not have been here
to hear the tale.
