Look Back at Me (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 1)

One Down

The girl was lying on the bottom of a ditch, near a field margin, her black jacket stark and clear against the white snow. She'd probably climbed over the hedgerow onto the woods side, slipped, and rolled down.

"Varya!" Viola shouted and rushed to her.

The girl stirred. Viola could see the awkward angle under which the girl's left arm was bent. The wind blew in sharp squalls, as if trying to tear off Viola's clothes or to topple her over. The snowflakes, large and heavy, kept blinding her, flocks of them hurled into her eyes. She knelt near the girl.

"Varya, can you hear me?" she asked. "What hurts, Varya?"

"You're that doctor, aren't you?" the girl asked weakly. "You're married to the– the big man–"

"Varya, what did you hurt?" Viola added firmness to her voice.

"My arm– and shoulder. I fell, and rolled on it," she muttered.

"Does your stomach or legs hurt? How about your back?" Viola was trying to assess if it was safe to move the girl.

"I think my ankle too– Oh, Persimmon!"

The girl tried to sit up, and Viola helped her. The cat jumped onto the girl's lap, and Varya wrapped her right arm around the animal.

"Alright, we need to get you away from here," Viola said. "Why were you lying down?"

"My ankle hurts. I think– I twisted it. And also, it was so cold. I thought–" The girl yawned. She seemed somewhat disoriented, and Viola leaned closer to look at Varya's eyes. "I just wanted to rest– And then it got warmer–"

"It didn't get warmer, Varya. You were just getting sleepy," Viola muttered. "Can you get up?"

She took the cat out of the girl's hands and put it on the snow.

"Behave, Persimmon," she said quietly. "Can you get up, Varya?"

"I don't want to," the girl murmured, and Viola saw she had trouble keeping her eyes open.

"Alright, I'm going to pick you up right now, and you're going to try to walk," Viola said. "Niklas is waiting for us in the woods."

"Oh, he's... nice." Varya nodded shakily. "Mum keeps yelling at him, but I think she fancies him, and– Persimmon likes him. He's a painter–" She yawned again. "In the cabin– it's warm– I climbed in that time–"

Viola firmly picked up Varya under her right arm and pulled her up. The girl rose, stepped on her left ankle, and cried out. The pain seemed to have woken her up, her gaze grew sharper - but walking back was out of the question. Leaving the child here wouldn't work either. Her core temperature would be dangerously low at this stage already.

"Varya, I'm going to put my scarf on the ground, and you're going to lie down on it, and grab to its edge," Viola said. "I'm going to drag you back to Niklas' cabin, alright?"

The girl gave her an apathetic nod. Viola unwrapped her Burberry and made Varya lie down on it. The cat immediately jumped on it as well.

"You're lucky you aren't fat," Viola grumbled at the animal. "I'm letting you hitch a ride only because you're also her hot water bottle, do you hear me?"

The girl embraced the feline, and Viola grabbed two corners of her scarf and pulled the improved travois behind her.

***

She thought she covered about half the distance to the cabin, when she heard Niklas' voice.

"Viola!"