The letter arrived in the first post. She recognised the handwriting as Blaine's. Her heart beat a little faster and her mouth became dry. She tried to swallow and found that her throat would not co-operate. Her eyes widened in shock as it dawned on it that she had not realised how much Danny had come to mean to her. She wasn't sure how she would feel if …

She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly through her nose as her yoga teacher had taught her. After a couple of these centring breaths, she opened the letter.

Ten minutes later, she put it down and stared unseeing out of the window. Several emotions swirled around her: relief that Blaine had found nothing to implicate Danny; and a mixture of horror and fascination at his suggestion as to who may have sent the box.

Dealing with him would be tricky – and that would be after they'd succeeded in locating him. Blaine had ideas about that too … She decided to do some checking about that on her own. Meanwhile, she decided, she needed a walk.

Twenty minutes later, she was striding across the meadow, with the frozen grass stems snapping beneath the vibram™* soles of her walking boots. Her breath formed steamy clouds that streamed out behind her like flags before they dissipated. The early morning sun struck reflections from the ice crystals on the trees and fence posts. Her stride faltered as she reached the lake, and she blinked, seeking to refocus in the bright sunlight.

She moved slowly towards the shore of the lake, still not convinced that her brain had correctly interpreted the sight before her. After a few more minutes of walking along a stretch of the shore, trying to get a different view, she was convinced. There really was a pillar of ice emerging from the frozen lake. Sitting atop this marvel, she could see, was a small white cat.

As she watched, a squirrel ran across the ice and began climbing the pillar. The cat peered calmly over the edge of its perch and when the squirrel came in range, batted it swiftly across the head. The squirrel gave a squeal of protest and dropped back to the icy surface of the lake, where it stood and, in eloquent squirrelese, berated the cat, volubly.

The cat, as cats are wont to do, sat down, stuck one of his (she was convinced it was male) back legs in the air and proceeded to clean between the pads.

Well! she thought, the things you see when you haven't got your gun!

©10 July 2007 English Rose Productions

Loosely inspired by The Wonders of Ice

*Other sole patterns and constructions are available