A week has passed. Lewis is entertaining James, Laura, and Jean at his flat. It's nothing fancy, wine and take-away pizza. Lewis had informed the others he would be happy to host the gathering but only on the condition that he would not be required to open the freezer compartment of his refrigerator.
"I can't do it. I'll have to pay someone to come clear it out, I suppose, but every time I feel that chill, I get nightmares."
It's the first time the four have been together since the ambulances pulled away from Hungerford House with sirens screaming. The men can remember only a few bits and pieces of their experience. The women have filled them in on the events they know about, with the single exception of the one fact they have silently sworn to hold back. Lewis has fully recovered his physical health, but Hathaway still uses a crutch to get around. His fingertips are no longer raw and bleeding but most are still bandaged, tender to the touch. It will be a long time before the nails grow back where they were torn. The frostbite blisters on the side of his ribcage have mostly broken, and the flesh underneath is beginning to heal. Both men have a different bearing than they did before: more sober about what is important, yet at the same time more appreciative of good friends and a good laugh. In short, they are paying more attention to Life.
Lewis is on his third glass of wine and he's laughing more readily than he did earlier in the evening. He throws an arm around Innocent's shoulders, chuckling to himself.
"So Chief Superintendent Jean Innocent broke into a rich man's house like a common thief."
She punches him on the arm. "Stop it, Robbie, I had no criminal intent. And you of all people should be grateful I did so."
"Aw, I am grateful, believe me. You really showed up when you needed to. And you also gave me something to hold over your head if I have to." He smiles to himself. "Y'know, Jean, you were certainly right about one thing. You told me those Lords and Ladies are not like me. And that is very true. If I learned me wife was having a bit on the side, I think I'd consider couples counseling or even divorce. Maybe I'd punch the guy. But murder just wouldn't seem like a reasonable option to me." He looks at her with a pointed smirk. "I suppose that's a failing of me working class breeding, a belief that we're answerable to the law."
Hathaway watches with amusement. Jean notices he seems to be studying her closely. She sidles over to him. "James? What's on your mind?"
He twists a smile before answering. "It strikes me that you and Hobson must be holding something back. Are you sure you've told us everything? I mean, Lewis has said he thinks he remembers sharing some seriously close body heat with Hobson." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "I'd hate to think you just stood there and let me freeze . . ."
Jean shoots Laura a panicked look that pretty well gives everything away. Laura shakes her head with a wide-eyed, blameless expression, mouthing her denial: I never said anything!
The two men look at each other, both of them sprouting sideways, growing smiles. Lewis raises his eyebrows. "Well, now, Doctor, is there something you should have told us?"
She only flashes a sassy grin.
Jean glares at her. "Laura? A word, please?"
She drags the doctor into the spare room. "If you tell him, I'll . . ." Unfortunately for her, they both realize Innocent has very little ability to threaten the other woman.
Hobson narrows her eyes. "I said I wouldn't tell. I meant it." She folds her arms across her chest.
"Then how does Robbie know?"
Laura shakes her head. "I don't know that he does know. Maybe he sort of remembers the ambulance ride. Or thinks he does." She frowns, thinking. "Let me talk to him. I'll try to convince him it's all in his head." She raises one eyebrow. "But it would help if you could act just a tad less guilty."
By the time the evening is winding down, the subject has not come up again. Laura creeps up behind Robbie, reaching her arms around his waist and clasping her hands in front.
He turns his head around, surprised. "Hey, what's all this?"
"I'd like to talk to you about something kind of important."
He flashes his eyebrows and grins. Then his grin freezes on his face. His brow furrows, struggling with a buried memory.
"Why does that sound familiar to me?"
"It's pretty nearly the last thing you said to me before you went into the deep freeze. What was that important thing you wanted to discuss?"
James remembers overhearing that conversation and decides it is time to let them have their discussion in private. "You know, I think I'd better get on home. Ma'am, would you like to share a taxi?"
Innocent opens her mouth and then closes it. She realizes Laura needs time to talk to Robbie. "Fine."
When the door has closed and the two other guests have departed, Lewis turns his full attention to Laura. He wears an apologetic half-smile.
"I'm sorry, Laura, I honestly can't remember what it is I wanted to talk to you about. If it really was important, it'll come up again. My mind kind of mixes up real memories with dreams and visions that never happened. Like, I would swear you sort of . . . offered yourself to warm me up."
She cocks her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. "'Offered myself'?"
"Erm, yeah." He blushes. "Naked."
She raises her eyebrows. "Ah. Wishful thinking, perhaps?"
He blushes more deeply. "Laura!" He peeks at her. "I was wondering if it was maybe me memory coming back?"
Her smirk turns into a wide smile. "Now, Robbie, would you have forgotten something like that, if it had really happened?"
"No, but that's the point. I think I do remember it."
Her eyes sparkle. "As you say, Robbie: That's the point." She winks at his astonished smile. "And I didn't say that, in case anyone asks."
.
.
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Much of the description in this story of the effects of hypothermia owes its existence (and this author owes a debt of gratitude) to Peter Stark, "As Freezing Persons Recollect the Snow—First Chill—Then Stupor—Then the Letting Go," Outside Magazine, January 1997, available at the Outsideonline website.