Chapter 1: The age of not believing

Jamie frowned as he crossed another day off the calender, 'how have four years gone by in such a rush?'
Guilt flashed through him as he pondered how the most important person in his life had slowly faded away, how the fun-filled days he had longed for had somehow become less interesting than grades and parties and dating.
He walked to the window and looked down at the meagre scattering of fresh snow. ' Was it all a dream? No, it couldn't have been. . .'
But he wasn't so sure any more, and that little niggling doubt seemed to push all the certainties away. It was four years since he had seen The Winter and Jamie realized, with a sudden, sickening lurch, that he no longer believed.

Time passes and here sits Jamie on his parents doorstep. He's taking long drags on a much disapproved-of cigarette and pondering the death of his most recent relationship.
He'd known it was doomed, they always were, but despite all the hurt he hated to be alone.
Twenty-three and he had had more relationships than most people had in a life-time.
Guys, girls – he'd tried everything, their was certainly no lack of willing volunteers – not with his broody good looks and fathomless chocolate eyes.
But they all went up in flames within a couple of months, he was getting quite a reputation for it.
Train-wreck Jamie – who cant keep a girl (or guy).
It wasn't that he didn't try, he just had trouble connecting with other people. A habit of holding back that made partners find him cold and uncaring.
He didn't do it on purpose either, Jamie desperately wanted to connect, it just never seemed to happen for him as it did for the rest of his friends.
Increasingly he felt as if there was something wrong with him, something missing that he couldn't put his finger on.
Sighing, he stubbed out his cigarette and tossed it into the dustbin.
Snow lay all around and he rubbed his hands together to restore some heat to his exposed fingers.
'Stupid cold' he cursed, 'I can't believe there was a time when I loved the snow – now I have to freeze to death every time I want a smoke.'
Shaking his head, he went inside, deftly avoiding his parents and heading upstairs to bed. He was up early the next day and needed all the sleep he could get.
Tomorrow, after all, was Easter Sunday.

He met cupcake in the park at ten past six.
She waved happily as she saw him trudging over. Putting down the bunting she was untangling, she gave him a quick hug.
"I was beginning to think you were a no show."
"A promise is a promise," he yawned "Just had a little trouble getting up – didn't sleep well."
"Well, you'll sleep well tonight. I plan to keep you busy and distracted all day long."
"All-right captain," he gave her a jovial salute, "Just show me what to do."
There followed a very busy hour of bunting, banners and balloons as he and cupcake decorated the park, ready for the Easter celebrations.
Sitting at a bench to admire their handiwork, cupcake produced a thermos of hot coffee and the old friends warmed their hands on the cups as they watched the first few children run excitedly into the park.
Jamie felt suddenly lost and melancholy as he looked at the kids, full of innocent hope and wonder, and cupcake too.
'How has she managed to keep that side of her safe?' he wondered, when the cynical and demanding world of adulthood had so completely stripped it from him.
He yawned expansively and she chuckled.
"Still tired? You should get to bed earlier."
He shook his head, "I don't know how you do it," he said " you must have got here hours before me to hide all those eggs."
"Oh I didn't hide them silly!"
He frowned, "Then who did?"
"Bunny of course!"
"Oh yeah, right, of course . . ." He scoffed, but he was caught off guard by the genuinely sad look on Cupcake's face.
"What?" he demanded, wondering why he felt so broken and ashamed, "I'm not six."
Cupcake closed her eyes for a second and sighed.
"You don't know how much it hurts to hear you talk like this – of all of us I would have thought you would keep your belief. What happened Jamie? You used to be so sure . ."
"I grew up Cupcake. I don't see why I should be getting such stick for it."
"But you used to live for snow-days. Don't you remember? Don't you miss hi -"
"NO!" he shocked himself with his sudden outburst, "No. All that goofing off, fat lot of good that did me. If I'd had more time for school and work rather than spending all my time with some imaginary friend maybe I wouldn't be the Family Disappointment."
Cupcake nodded sagely, "Well I guess I'll get off your back then. If it's gone it's gone. I'll just have to do the believing for the both of us."
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
"Come on then," she said, standing up and pulling him away from the bench, "lets go set up some games for the children."

A very busy day later and Jamie and Cupcake were once again sat at their bench. They'd just cleared up the last of the decorations and were having a quick chat, and in Jamie's case – a smoke, before heading home.
Cupcake had just finished updating Jamie about the developments at the primary school where she worked when a sudden smile spread across her face and she leapt from the bench and ran into the middle of the park.
"You came!" she enthused to a patch of thin air.

"I know, I know. Busy day."

She chuckled, "Well I always have, every year – it's the least I can do."
Jamie frowned, "Ha ha Cupcake!" He scoffed, "I thought we agreed to let it drop."
She turned toward him and frowned.
"No 'fraid not," She said, but she wasn't speaking to Jamie.

"Yeah"

"I know."

"How's he baring up?"
"Oh, fuck this Cupcake!" Jamie lurched to his feet, "I wish you'd just grow up!" Fuming, he wheeled around and walked away. It was all right to do 'the believer act' in-front of the children but Jack had had enough teasing about imaginary friends from his parents to last a lifetime.
Pulling his coat tight against the sudden chill he stomped home, his anger giving way to a feeling of sadness and humiliation.

Spring, summer and autumn perform their yearly dance as the days whirl by.
Winter closes in and the world turns white.
Snow swirls and gusts, the wind howls and a door slams. And here is Jamie, stumbling down the icy steps of a posh hotel, hurt and anger written plainly on his face.
Behind him music, light and laughter leak from the gaps beneath the doors and flash behind the frosted windows.
'Stupid, stupid, stupid' he curses, 'why am I such an idiot?'
He slips on the ice as he crosses the car park and nearly falls.
'What was I thinking?'
He reaches his car and struggles with the lock. Common sense wars briefly with alcohol and anger but quickly submits, the hurt is too fresh. Jamie just wants to escape, to get as far away from the class reunion with his ex's and successful friends, to distance himself from Jamie the train-wreck – who lives with his parents and works in a shop.
And then he's inside the car and putting his foot down he skids onto the icy road and heads for home.
Wind buffets the car as laughter echoes in his mind, the wipers struggle with the heavy flurries of snow as Jamie's eyes struggle with the weight of tears, and his foot pushes harder against the accelerator.
The winter landscape blurs on either side and the headlights can hardly find the road. Jamie's tears spill free and he is blind.
He takes a hand off the wheel to wipe his eyes and it's at that moment that his car hits the black ice.
Suddenly he's no longer in control, too upset, too drunk to react in time. He slams his foot on the brakes but the wheels lock and the car slides almost gracefully off the road and into the forest.
He hardly registers what happens next, the car buckling around him as it crashes into the trees, the sudden stop jerking his head against the window.
One flash of blinding pain and then he's falling away from the broken car, down a long corridor into darkness and silence.

Voices call his name. His head throbs with agony so intense he wants to cry out but his body seems beyond his command.
He levers open his eyes, the effort leaving him nauseous with pain. Body-less faces hover over him against a background of snow. Two he doesn't recognise jabber nonsense at each other in calm steady voices.
Another, Cupcake? Her eyes brimming with tears, calls a name over and over – he thinks it might be his but his mind is muddled and full of pain.
He squints, bringing a new wave of nausea , someone is beside cupcake. A familiar face, etched with worry. Jamie tries to focus, the effort bringing bile to his mouth but the face seems to waver – there one second, gone the next.
A name springs to his lips and it seems to Jamie that he must speak it lest he die with it unsaid.
"J. . . J . . .J . . ."
The effort brings tears to his eyes.
"Ja. . ." he manages, but as his consciousness tumbles away, he knows that he has failed.