The Yuletide Child, Charlotte Lamb [best novels to read .TXT] 📗

was afraid of this morning. Snow always brings the phone lines down where I live.’

Ruth forced a smile, trying to sound reassuring. ‘We do have a problem with it here, too. They’ll soon have the break mended; they always do. Let’s have a cup of tea then I’ll try again.’

If she couldn’t ring Henry she would have to put this girl into her car and take her to the village. Ruth’s home was right on the outer edge of Stonelee, at least a twenty-minute drive to Henry’s house, with a sharp drop downward followed by a steep hill rising to the village. Not an easy drive in any weather, it would certainly be difficult, if not downright dangerous, with a blizzard raging.

‘Would you like something to eat?’

‘I’m not hungry.’ The girl folded her hands around the mug of tea and sipped, eyes closed. Ruth had put three spoonfuls of sugar in; if anyone had ever needed blood sugar it was this girl.

‘Have a slice of toast,’ Ruth coaxed. ‘You aren’t in any pain, are you?’

Dylan laughed huskily. ‘Don’t encourage me to be a hypochondriac! I’ve had little aches and pains every day for weeks; I think my body is allergic to pregnancy. I never even had a headache when I was dancing.’

Ruth looked surprised. ‘You were a dancer? What sort of dancing?’

‘Ballet.’ Dylan sipped her hot tea gratefully.

Eyes brightening, Ruth said, ‘I used to love going to the ballet when I lived in London, but I haven’t beenfor years now. I had to move back up here to look after my mother, after my father died. She had a stroke, which meant giving up my job, of course, and my flat in London.’ She stopped dead, wondering why she was telling this stranger so much about herself. She rarely talked to anyone about her personal life. This girl didn’t want to hear her life story!

‘And you miss it,’ Dylan breathed with eager sympathy. ‘I know just how you feel—I’m a Londoner, I only moved up here in the spring, and I still haven’t got used to living miles from anywhere. I miss dancing, and all my friends and the audiences, and... But it’s city life I miss the most. There’s always something to do, theatres, cafés, and you’re surrounded by all those other people. You can jump on a bus or a tube train and go across town in no time.’

‘Yes, that’s the joy of London.’ Ruth smiled at her. ‘Do you live near here?’

‘No, we live close to the borders, just below Hadrian’s Wall. I was on my way to visit my sister; she lives a few miles from here.’

That reminded her. She glanced at the phone on the wall. ‘I wish I could ring her to let her know what’s happened—she’ll be worried. I wonder if it has been reconnected yet?’

‘I’ll try again.’ Ruth got up and lifted the phone. Dylan read her expression and sighed.

‘Still dead? Have you got any neighbours with a phone?’

Regretfully, Ruth told her, ‘There isn’t a house within half a mile, I’m afraid. My nearest neighbours are a builder and his wife, the Horrockses, and they’re away in Canada, visiting their daughter and her new baby. I do have a car, but I don’t think it would be very safe totry to drive to the village just yet. If we wait an hour or so the snow might have stopped or the line may be reconnected.’ Ruth paused, nervously eying Dylan. ‘You aren’t about to have the baby, are you? You aren’t having pains?’

‘No, I don’t think so, thank heavens.’ Dylan smiled at her, picking up her anxiety. ‘I’m sorry for putting you to all this trouble, but you won’t have to cope with childbirth too, don’t worry.’

‘Are you worried about letting your husband know you’re safe?’

‘No,’ Dylan said curtly, her face clouding over at once, and Ruth wondered what was making her look so angry and sad. She couldn’t ask, of course. They would probably never meet again after today, and this girl would not want to talk about her most intimate secrets with a total stranger. Ruth knew she wouldn’t.

‘What job does he do?’

‘He’s a forester—our house is on the edge of his forest. All I ever see is trees now—pine trees mostly; it’s a commercial forest. There isn’t another house in sight.’ Her voice had a bitter ring to it. ‘I hate them! But he isn’t there at the moment; he’s at a meeting in York today.’ Falling silent, she stared into the red fire behind the grate of the range, then exclaimed, ‘The mobile! I’d forgotten it!’

‘Mobile?’ Ruth was bewildered for a second.

‘Phone. It’s in my bag.’ Dylan looked around for her bag, struggling to get up.

‘Stay where you are. I’ll get it.’ Ruth had put the bag down on the table. She handed it to Dylan, who hurriedly unzipped it, pulled out the mobile phone and tapped in Ross’s code.

‘No Service’.

‘Stupid, useless thing!’ muttered Dylan, trying again with the same result. ‘The whole point of having one of them is to use in an emergency, but so far I haven’t been able to use this one at all.’

‘Is it broken?’

‘No, it just isn’t picking up the satellite, I think. I’m not sure why. Ross says it depends on the location and the weather. Don’t they use radio waves? I suppose the snow is blocking the frequency, or something. I’m not very technically minded.’

‘Neither am I.’ Ruth considered the situation. ‘Look, why don’t you have a nice warm bath? I can lend you a nightie, dressing gown and slippers to wear, and I have a spare bedroom you can use. After your bath you can have a little snack—an omelette or scrambled egg on toast, if that’s all you really want, or some soup. But you can share my meal, if you like—I think I’ll make myself some spaghetti; it’s perfect for cold weather, quick and easy and very filling. I’ve got plenty of tomatoes, peppers and bacon for