Lauren took her role as photographer very seriously on this trip. It was her job to ensure that Vee had excellent memories of her mother, and the photographs to go with it. Sure, it ached a little to be on the outside, but she never stayed there for long. Vee would take her hand and lead her over to look at the huskies, or to stroke the reindeer. It was only when Vee suggested she take a photo of her and Cass that she recoiled a little, unwilling to so clearly put everything in the past. Her photos with Cass had never been lies – she’d always been truly happy in those prints, her wide grin authentic and undeniable. She refused to pretend now. It was too soon. She waved off the offer and said she looked a mess. Cass looked uncomfortable but didn’t argue.
Seeing Vee’s face light up during the husky ride was worth all of Lauren’s worries. Her little hand reaching out to plunge her fingers into the soft fur, the wild animal nuzzling gently. Cass seemed to vibrate with a motherly terror, as if the sled dog might turn on her, but she held herself back, letting her daughter explore. Strength came in many guises.
She watched as Cass and Vee snuggled up under a blanket on the sledge, really only made for one person, and Lauren settled onto the sledge next to them, hiding behind her phone as she took photo after photo. They were so gorgeous together, each image was almost flawless, their red cheeks and eyes bright in fur-hood halos.
It was not okay to feel jealous or left out at a time like this. That was not what grown-ups did. It certainly wasn’t what good people did – feel jealous of a dying woman. The sledge drivers made a noise, and off the huskies went, dragging them behind so swiftly Lauren almost lost her phone, clasping it tight and snuggling down further. Oh, how lovely it was not to be responsible for anything in this moment, just listening to her own heartbeat as they sped across the snow.
The sled dogs were invigorated by the speed, kicking up snow beneath their paws, and even as she was scared, she felt the desire to throw her hands up and shout, just like she’d seen Cass and Vee do on the roller-coaster. Instead, she hunkered down further, slipping her hands into her armpits for warmth.
She could hear Cass whooping, intermingling with Vee’s cheers as they yelled against the cold air through their face warmers. Lauren tried to focus on herself – she was here, she was doing things, she’d made this happen.
They stopped not long after for warm drinks – a fruity hot tea or hot chocolate. She chose the healthy option, whilst her companions both chose chocolate. Cass convinced her daughter that the drink had been made to her exact specifications – stirring it three times clockwise, then anticlockwise.
Lauren and Cass stood together as Vee seemed to have very intense conversations with each of the dogs, asking them how they were, if they were tired, whether going fast was as fun for them as it was for the humans they pulled along.
Cass nudged her, a little smile on her face. ‘Cheer up, grumpy-face. Look how happy she is.’
‘I’m not grumpy, I’m just …’
‘Thinking about what-ifs and might-have-beens?’
Lauren said nothing, inclining her head half an inch.
‘I think about that a lot too. But honestly, it’s better to stop thinking altogether – you do more living that way.’
And what was there to say after that? The darkness, which had never really left, seemed to settle around them like a midnight cloak, and the stars popped as if someone suddenly turned on the lights. It was time to head back. Even Lauren, so full of jealousy and aching with loss, couldn’t help but smile as she tilted her head back at the sky.
‘Hey, Loll, you’re gonna be our driver!’ Cass grabbed her hand and pulled her over to their sled.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Listen,’ Vee said, holding a finger up to her lips. ‘Shhh!’
Lauren did as she was told, listening to the guide as he explained they’d have a chance to steer, but that you had to be strong and authoritative.
‘Hardly me,’ Lauren snorted. ‘You do it.’
‘I don’t have the energy.’ Cass shrugged as if it was no big deal, when really, Lauren could see her itching to take hold and jump on the back, controlling their direction. Maybe she wasn’t the only one missing things.
‘Come on, Loll, you need to be a little scared sometimes.’
I’m scared all the time, she wanted to yell. Only her fear of sounding pathetic stopped her. It was true – she was scared of being alone and being invisible, and time passing her by, the way it had, unnoticeably, these last six years. She was afraid she would wake up one day and lose her voice because she never said anything worth listening to.
‘Okay, let’s do it. But if I kill you—’ Lauren joked, then stopped with a wince.
Cass shrugged as if the words meant nothing, her face a blank. Then she grinned. ‘You’ll only have yourself to blame. Especially after arranging this whole holiday. What a waste!’
That was always one of the comforting things about Cass – if it could be made into a joke, it would be. It was better to laugh than to cry. Better to be silly than serious. Lauren had forgotten how much she used to laugh over things that weren’t funny.
Vee settled down in the cart with her mother, Lauren standing unsteadily on the back, listening to the directions, mumbling them to herself over and over, lips moving but no sound escaping.
What if something went wrong? What if she fell off and was left freezing in the snow? What if the dogs got angry at her and turned on them?
As if she seemed to know, Cass lifted her hand up and grasped Lauren’s tightly. Mittens made it difficult, but she felt the pressure as Cass tried to press into her palm, the way she always had. Anxiety release in moments of terror. She squeezed back once, then gently pulled her hand back. It was enough that someone noticed, and cared, that she was afraid.
She took a breath and left that worry behind, letting it drain away. Every day at work had been full of those voices, building up into a wall of what-ifs and almosts. Not the good kind, not the maybe-one-day kind of daydreams. It was more the feeling that everything she did was probably wrong, and everyone knew it.
God, she wanted to tell her brain it was such a waste of time to turn on her like that. They could have been so productive, done great things together. Lauren was pretty sure that studying broke her. The pressure of learning and working and getting married and losing Cass – she had simply broken, and her brain wasn’t really her friend anymore. She was just a weaker, delicate sort of person. That was what they all said. Her mother, Darren, her tutors. She was just so sensitive. She couldn’t expect to change now.
Except … Cass had never seen her that way. Cass had never doubted she was a wolf.
‘Go!’ she said suddenly, fingers clenched in anticipation. The dogs did as they were told, picking up speed and depending on Lauren to shift her weight this way and that to guide them. She furrowed her brow, feeling her head start to hurt with the tension of concentration. Keep steady, keep still, don’t let them down, don’t let them get hurt, don’t fuck this up.
When the dogs finally slowed, and she remembered to breathe, her heart was racing, her fingertips shaking from the numb coldness and exhilaration.
‘That was amazing!’ Vee jumped up. ‘Auntie Loll, you led the pack! Arooooo!’
She threw her head back as she howled, and suddenly all the dogs turned their heads towards her. Cass put a gloved hand over her daughter’s mouth quickly. They waited, and the huskies seemed to get bored, distracted by food from their trainers and the promise of bed.
‘Maybe don’t howl in front of them. We don’t know what we’re saying in wolf – it might be rude and we don’t want to offend the pack,’ Lauren said, her voice hoarse from the cold air.
It had been fun, though, hadn’t it? She’d felt empowered in the pockets between the terror. At least Vee knew her Auntie Loll wasn’t a stick-in-the-mud. She could be just as fun as Cass. At the very least she could do as she’d done all those years ago, and pretend. Pretend she was fine with staying out and meeting strangers. Pretend that she didn’t need to have a few drinks for courage before getting all dressed up for a night out. She’d been Cass’s shadow once, and it was easy enough to stand behind her again.
‘Why is it so dark already?’ Vee whined, taking the hand of each woman and walking in between them. ‘Does this mean I have to go to bed?’
‘No, silly,’ Cass rolled her eyes, ‘we haven’t even built a snowman yet. Let’s do that, and maybe get some schnapps for Mama.’
Lauren raised an eyebrow.
‘Is that not right? Oh, something local and painfully alcoholic, you know what I mean.’
‘And perhaps find something on the dinner menu for a certain person that isn’t Prancer or Blitzen,’ Lauren added.
‘Good point.’
The afternoon passed easily enough, sharing a bottle of wine in the curve of the glass igloo as they watched Vee build a snow castle. They didn’t talk, Cass pretending to read a book, but really only propping it up in her lap whilst she stared at her daughter. She was clearly trying to take a mental picture, remembering the way strands of hair fell out from her turquoise bobble hat, and the redness of her nose as she chewed her neck warmer in concentration.
Lauren got out her sketch pad, something she hadn’t done in years, but felt was appropriate for this trip down memory lane. She’d almost forgotten she used to draw. Everything from wiggly doodles, to cartoons, to portraits. She had loved to capture something perfectly, whether it was an idea or a perfect copy of reality.
There had stopped being time for drawing. The studying, the work, Darren – time seemed to move so slowly, hour by hour, but then she had looked up and years had passed without her doing anything much at all.
She sketched Vee, her little form made rotund from the snow clothes, the briefest outline of pencil on white paper. But it became a little too painful, to be watching her with the same intensity as Cass. Wondering about what-ifs and Darren and that night. She closed her eyes and pushed the images away.
Instead she started drawing the huskies from earlier, looking at photos on her phone to help her focus on the shapes. The points of their ears and the roundness of their paws, the fan of their tails. She drew wolves around the page, in different styles – pouncing cartoons that looked like cave drawings, all simple swirling lines and rough shading. Then wolves made of triangles, all angular and bloodthirsty, staring at you like they saw dinner.
It was therapeutic, simply letting the pencil trace the page. She thought of Vee’s howl and how they froze in fear, and started drawing a young wolf cub, her head thrown back in a joyful exclamation. Lauren wondered how she’d ever howled in that pub all those years ago, unafraid to be silly, make noise or draw attention. Now, half the time she went to speak it felt like her voice was out of practice.
Vee trundled in, tracking snow on the tiles. She wiped the back of her forehead with her mittened hand, a dramatic gesture.
‘Phew,’ she said, attempting to pull off her boots whilst still standing. ‘Can I have a warm drink, please?’
Cass helped her out of her boots, placing a hand gently on her head before whipping the hat off. ‘Well, as you asked so nicely.’
She headed to the kitchen area whilst Vee climbed up on the bed next to Lauren, unzipping her jacket as she nuzzled in to her side, peering at the sketch pad.
‘Wow, those are pretty wolves. I like that one with the spiky teeth.’ She did her own impersonation of bared jaws, holding her hands up as splayed claws.
‘You like the fierce ones?’
They were made of geometric shapes, and something about them made Lauren feel on edge, like they were prowling around outside somewhere and had only paused when she trapped them on the page.
Vee shrugged. ‘They’re cool. They’re pretty, but scary too.’
‘I guess no one would care if they were just your average home pooch, huh?’
‘Doggies are cute, but they wouldn’t be wild. We went so fast! And you were the pack leader! You told them what to do!’
‘Huh, I guess I did.’ Lauren grinned, squeezing the girl briefly around the shoulders, then releasing her as Cass approached with her hot apple juice.
‘So what’s the plan tomorrow, pack-leader?’ Cass asked, lowering herself gently into a chair, then leaning over to top up Lauren’s wine. Lauren raised her glass in thanks.
‘Tomorrow, we get some snow time in the morning, so I’m going to ski for the first time in years, and then the afternoon we get to see a certain magical old man.’
‘Are you skiing, Cassy?’ Vee asked, pulling at the threads on her jumper.
‘I used to surf, so I might try snowboarding on the nursery slope. Something new! You wanna try it with me, muffin? Or we could go down the hill on a sled or in a rubber ring, that might be fun!’
The little girl narrowed her eyes in thought. ‘I want to learn to ski like Aunt Loll. Can you teach me?’
Lauren didn’t have time to say yes before seeing the look on Cass’s face, that dark cloud again. She could switch in an instant. Rejection always did that to her. It made her cruel without a moment’s notice. And picking Lauren over Cassidy Jones? Oh, it seemed like there could be nothing worse.
‘Of course, going to grow up a posh girl, are we, baby?’ Cass’s voice was sharp, ‘Be out in the French Alps in your teen years?’
‘Cass,’ Lauren frowned. ‘Don’t.’
‘No, it’s fine, I just didn’t think … I’m surprised you ski actually, Loll. Bit too much risk, isn’t it? Thought you’d be scared.’
The vitriol in Cass’s voice wasn’t surprising – Lauren had been here before. When she chose a weekend away in Paris over a trip to Birmingham for a rave with Cass. When she decided to move in with Darren. When she said she wanted a baby. Cass had a metal exterior, but her insides were shards of glass. If you shook her, she’d jangle.
‘It’s a controlled risk, I know what I’m doing on the slopes. Do you not want me to teach her? Are you worried about Vee’s safety?’
That was the only way, back her into a corner of logic and truth because it was clear why she didn’t want her to go – she wanted her baby to look at her with joy and adoration. She didn’t want to share with Lauren. Cass was silent, and Lauren floundered for a way to make it all go away.
‘Hey, I know, why don’t we all try snowboarding together? We can all learn something new?’
Cass huffed, ‘You know, Loll, just once it might be worth trying to have a backbone. Stop snapping yourself in half to be loved by everyone.’
Lauren stood up, pausing to smile at Vee, before she walked past her old friend. ‘And maybe you should think that just because you’re D-Y-I-N-G, it doesn’t give you the right to be a B-I-T-C-H.’
She walked past her, through to the back of the lodge, unsure of where to hide away.
Cass raised her voice, ‘Well—’
‘Stop!’ Vee yelled, hands on hips as she stood on the bed. ‘Stop being mean! I’ll go with you, Cassy, just stop being mean.’
Cass looked across the room at Lauren, suddenly so incredibly vulnerable, her lips trembling with the force of not crying. She nodded at her friend before turning back to her daughter, reaching for her hands.
‘I’m sorry, munchkin, of course you should go skiing. Mama’s just tired, and grouchy.’
‘Well, sleep then,’ the little girl retorted, not sure how to continue being angry when her mother looked so sad.
‘That’s a very good idea,’ Cass nodded, looking past Vee to the snow outside. ‘Why don’t you and Auntie Loll go on an expedition to find some food? I’ll have a nap and I’ll be much nicer when I wake up.’
‘Well, okay,’ Vee pursed her lips as if she was pretending to be angry, but jumped down from the bed and gave Cass’s hand a pat. ‘Sleep lots and we’ll bring you ice cream!’
‘Ice cream?! All this snow and you want ice cream?’ Loll exclaimed as she put on her jacket, fingertips trembling just a little.
‘Snow is just non-tasty ice cream, really,’ Vee replied, letting Cass help her pull on her shoes.
‘Kid’s kind of got a point.’
Cass’s words were directed to Lauren, but she didn’t meet her eyes. She knew she should be gentle and understanding of Cass’s outbursts; she’d dealt with them for years, of course, the little sparks of criticism and harsh words that suggested Lauren was simply too dull to be believed. But she was doing this for her. She was the one who’d been betrayed, lied to, dumped and then manipulated – was it too much to ask that people be nice to her?
Except … she felt guilty. She’d shouted at Cass, and even though she knew Cass would want her to be normal with her, to call her out no matter how sick she was … it didn’t feel right.
She bundled Vee up and out of the lodge, stomping through the snow, holding the little girl’s hand as she chattered away. How much did Vee see of her mother, how much was different and how much was the same? After about ten steps, Lauren paused and looked back. Cass was still sitting in that chair, staring up at the white, cloudless sky.
When they returned, Cass was asleep, but outside in the snow, I’m sorry, had been spelled out in capital letters, with a heart at the end, and her snowy boots sat by the front door.