Winter's Shadow by M.J. Hearle Page B

Blake’s place. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Itwould have taken the little fella all night to travel from Holloway Road to Winter’s house. Unless he’d hitched a ride in the back of Blake’s truck of course.
    ‘How about some water?’ she asked the cat, studying him closely to see if she could recognise any markings that would confirm his identity as Blake’s cat. The big orange M on his forehead certainly looked familiar. The tabby also shared the affectionate manner of the one she’d met earlier in the afternoon. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, he leapt eagerly into her arms. Laughing as his whiskers tickled her face, Winter carried him inside.
    Lucy was waiting for her in the kitchen, chopping onions. She glanced over at Winter’s approach, one eyebrow arching questioningly at the cat in her arms.
    ‘What’s with the cat?’
    Winter shook her head. ‘I found him on the balcony. He looks thirsty.’
    Lucy tutted disapprovingly. ‘You shouldn’t feed strays, Win. It’ll keep coming back and before you know it you’ll have got yourself a pet you don’t want.’
    Winter put the cat down and looked for a bowl. ‘I don’t mind if he comes back.’
    Finding one, she filled it with water and placed it before the cat’s inquisitive nose. He immediately started lapping.
    ‘So, was that phone call about the guy who dropped you off? The same one from yesterday?’
    ‘Yep.’
    ‘What’s his name?’
    Winter sighed softly and turned to face her sister. Why couldn’t Lucy just have a conversation with her without it turning into an interrogation?
    ‘Blake.’
    ‘What does he do?’
    ‘Deals drugs,’ Winter answered without blinking. ‘I’m thinking about working as a mule for him. You know – sneaking drugs over the border, stuff like that . . .’
    ‘Winter —’ Lucy always called her ‘Winter’ instead of ‘Win’ when she wanted to discipline her.
    ‘What do you want me to tell you, Lucy? I hardly know the guy.’
    ‘But you like him?’
    Winter rolled her eyes dramatically, hoping to conceal her true reaction. The awful scene this afternoon hadn’t muddied her feelings for Blake; instead it had clarified them. Yes, Winter liked Blake – in fact
like
seemed too mild a word for whatever she was feeling.
    ‘So . . . are you going to tell me what you guys had to talk about? You seemed pretty upset before.’
    Winter simply smiled and shook her head. ‘No. No, I’m not.’
    Lucy pursed her lips in frustration and turned back to the onions. ‘Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.’
    Winter nodded and picked up the cat. She knew she should probably put it back outside, but she felt like some company. Company that didn’t ask a million questions, anyway. Leaving Lucy to seethe in the kitchen, Winter carried the cat into her bedroom and shut the door.
    Almost immediately the cat wriggled from her arms, dropping to the floor. He padded over to sniff her runners, which lay discarded at the foot of her bed. Winter felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. All she wanted to do now was go to sleep and forget everything that had happened ever since she left Fletch’s this afternoon. Unfortunately, if past experience was any indication, once she turned out the lights and closed her eyes, sleep would be impossible.
    Whenever something upsetting happened, her mind, in an act of cruel insubordination, recorded it in detail – only to play the painful event over and over again as soon as Winter let her mental guard down. These mini mind movies were never straightforward accounts of what she’d experienced. Instead, they seemed to be edited for maximum emotional pain, lingering on scornful looks or hurtful lines of dialogue.
    After her parents died Winter had lost what felt like weeks of sleep, tormented by one such mind movie she’d dubbed ‘The Police Scene’. This particular recording began with Winter arriving home from school to find a police officer sitting in the kitchen