Chapter Three (Part Two)

Ethan stared. His mind whirred. He had never wanted a dog.

They were the people; traipsing after their dogs first thing in the morning. It was they who were bouncing around inside his head at that moment. They were the ones on the news. The dog would run off chasing some scent and not come back. Then they would find it, and something else.

‘It was always a dog walker.’ His hand went for his phone; holding it like some sort of amulet.

He began to move forward, freeing his limbs from the crush of indecision. His eyes were fixed on it, his legs moving stiffly, automatically. His innards slid and coiled involuntarily, tossing him weakly towards nausea. He did not even hear the hushed silence all about him; as if the trees and the sky had turned to watch the scene in wonderment.

He crouched unconsciously, his arms held out before him. By the time he was fifteen feet away he had slowed to a creep. His head lowered more, coaxing himself on, forcing his eyes to stay open. His mind was stuck in neutral, spinning round and round inside at breakneck speed but going nowhere, driving nothing.

He was closer now. He could see it from its shape that it was a girl. A tug of sadness, a young girl, a girl’s foot glazed with morning dew in a wet black shoe. Despite himself he jogged forward.

“Hello?” His thin voice vanished immediately with the mist of his breath.

He said it again; his voice firmer this time.

“Hello.”

Still there was nothing. He crouched down slowly and peered beneath the bush. The foot met an ankle and a delicate calf which itself ran into some dark trousers. The body itself was out of sight, lying beneath the matted twigs and leaves.

Ethan was a matter of inches from the leg. It looked so fragile as if held beneath glass. He wouldn’t touch the skin, the white snow skin. He couldn’t do that but he stilled himself and leant further pushing his hand out over the dark trouser.

He held it still, half outstretched, hovering a motion above it.

With a gulp he put it down. He couldn’t feel anything but chill. The fabric was that kind of cold which is indistinguishable from damp. He pulled his hand away with a jolt and as his fingers left the fabric he felt sure, powerfully certain that he felt the ebb of warmth from the cloth. As he did so he noticed his thumb was moving unconsciously to the buttons on his phone. He lowered his palm more deliberately this time, promising himself that he would call 999 if there was only cold, inanimate fabric.

‘Ambulance or police?’ He looked away as he pressed the leg once more, pushing the cold muscles of the thigh across the bone.

He stopped, ‘wait! It, it did! Did it move?’ He was sure it had moved, slightly but definitely.

He pressed once more. ‘There again! Moving sluggishly, weakly, kicking out like someone asleep.’

His reticence fled. He rubbed the leg harder now.

“Hey… hello, hey are you OK?”

After a pause a reed thin “what?” crept out. Her voice sounded like tracing paper.

“Thank God” he said spontaneously, “you’re alright?”

The legs began to move gingerly back and forth, shuffling forward. Slowly as though the ground was giving her up, they became a torso and then shoulders and finally a head of chestnut brown hair, darker where it was damp. He took her thin trembling hand and guided her out.

She was shielding her eyes against the cold, clear light. Her skin had a porcelain brilliance. The only mark was a small moss stain across her cheekbone that looked a little like camouflage against her complexion.

He helped her up, and she, rapidly gathering her dignity, tried to do so on her own. Something stuck in Ethan’s throat. She was a vision, even then a vision of beauty and he felt shamed for noticing.

“You must be freezing.”

She still made no attempt so speak.

He took off his jacket and put it round her shoulders. She took it without a word, looking too confused to understand what was going on. Her shivering hands could barely hold the coat round her shoulders. He took her gently and rubbed her arms and back. She felt so pliant in his arms, and still she didn’t speak. After a moment he stepped back “I’m going to call an ambulance, ok?”

She looked up at him and shook her head gingerly.

“I have to.”

She opened her mouth.

“Don’t, It’s ok. Honest.”

He looked at her face closely, her hair wasn’t wet, and she was beginning to gain a little colour in her cheeks.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” her eyes softened “thank you.”

“You’re lucky not to have hypothermia.”

He grinned. She sneezed.

“Bless you!”

“I think I may yet,” she smiled more to herself than him. Her eyes sparkled and her little upturned nose flushed right to its pointed tip. As if replying Ethan blushed a little.

“Well, we’d better get you home, someone will be worried about you; I’m sure.”

“That’s a good idea.”

He walked her back across the park, up the hill and to a taxi rank. He waited with her until she got into the car, smiled as she waved at him and then turned back to work.

As he sat in the printers, still on his own at that hour, he wondered what her name might have been, and with a heavy heart he dwelt on the thought that he would most likely never see her again.