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A Season in the Snow
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Isla Gordon lives on the Jurassic Coast of England with her T. rex-sized Bernese Mountain Dog. A Season in the Snow is her first novel, inspired by life with an ever-growing puppy, and when researching the book in snowy Switzerland she fell in love with the country. And even more in love with cheese.
Isla has worked as a dance teacher, a manager, and an editorial assistant but has been writing professionally since 2013 (and unprofessionally since she can remember). She also has five romantic comedies published under the name Lisa Dickenson.
Isla can’t go a day without finding dog hair in her mouth.
Also by Isla Gordon,
as Lisa Dickenson
The Twelve Dates of Christmas
You Had Me at Merlot
Mistletoe on 34th Street
Catch Me if You Cannes
My Sisters and Me
SPHERE
First published in Great Britain in 2019 as an ebook by Sphere
This edition published by Sphere in 2020
Copyright © Lisa Dickenson 2019
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Gloria Steinem quote as featured in the VICELAND At the Women’s March series, reproduced with the kind permission of the office of Gloria Steinem, and Vice.
Emma Watson quote transcribed from 2011 press conference for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978-0-7515-7448-7
Sphere
An imprint of
Little, Brown Book Group
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
An Hachette UK Company
www.hachette.co.uk
www.littlebrown.co.uk
Dedicated to my big puppy, Kodi-Bear,
and all the furry friends who make
the world feel brighter
Hope is a very substantial and
powerful thing.
Because if you don’t have it, you’re
defeated before you start.
The one thing that is worse than trying and
failing is not trying.
GLORIA STEINEM
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Alice put the world on mute, just for a moment, so she could soak it all in. A thousand colours stitched together with pink threads – from woollen hats to bright T-shirts stretched over the top of zipped-up jackets, to the splashes of paint on placards being held high into the sky, to the flushed cheeks of the women and girls and men and boys giving it their all on this frost-covered January morning.
Smiling faces, warm greetings, cold breath, little children through to elderly ladies, and even a few dogs, full of fight. There was anger here, and fury and fire, but there was also hope. There was camaraderie; a sea of strength and sisterhood. London, and the world over, was alive with the power of women. She felt ripples of optimism within her own blood.
And with that, she let in the roar. The noisy, excited, diverse, vibrant sounds of London’s Women’s March flooded her ears and she whipped around to face her circle of friends who she’d pulled along with her.
‘Are you ready?’ Alice shouted to be heard.
Jill, her closest friend in the whole world, the Amy Poehler to her Tina Fey, nodded, blowing into her gloved hands and jiggling to the loud music that blasted from erected speakers. ‘Yes, let’s get marching; anything but standing around.’
Alice handed each of them – Jill, Bahira, Kemi and Theresa – a placard that she’d been up late into the evening making, and they admired her handiwork for a moment. Alice’s skills with illustration and amusing, catchy slogans did her proud, and the women pointed out details to each other – a resistance fist here, a rainbow flag there, a few cleverly placed pussycats.
A large group of women twirled past them dressed like the female wrestlers from Glow, chanting about pussy power, catching Alice’s eye. She watched them as they laughed and jostled and placed their hands on each other’s shoulders and lower backs with such casual ease.
‘Next time we should do that,’ she called to the others, who nodded, humouring their friend.
‘Let’s go,’ said Jill.
Alice’s grin spread, and she threw her arms wide, ready to jump into the throng. ‘This is really cool, right? I know it’s freezing, but look at this history we’re part of.’
Jill laughed. Alice’s optimism had always been infectious, and the five allowed themselves to be swept into the river of wonder women.
‘Thanks for coming with me,’ Alice shouted back at Jill as she was jostled forward and nearly poked in the eye by someone’s banner, though Jill was just watching her mouth move, the noise was so overwhelming. ‘This year is going to be a good one, I can feel it.’
Foot-sore and feeling on top of the world, the five women pooled into a Starbucks near Westminster a couple of hours later.
‘We’ll have five caramel hot chocolates please, my good lady,’ Jill said a little too loudly, the volume of the music outside still ringing in her ears.
The woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow. ‘What name please?’
‘The Five . . . ’ Jill faltered and looked at Alice.
‘Pusscateers?’ she suggested.
‘You know what,’ the barista said, putting the cups to the side. ‘I think we’ll find you. Take a seat.’
‘Thank you, sister!’ Alice said, her voice hoarse, and punched her fist in the air.
They found a table in the corner and spent a while propping up their placards and peeling off their layers of coats, scarves, backpacks and pink hats with cat ears that some of them had acquired.
‘Today was so cool,’ Alice enthused, shaking out her light brown hair. ‘Women are so cool.�
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‘Women are the coolest,’ Jill agreed.
‘There were so many more people there today than I ever imagined,’ Kemi said, flopping into her chair.
Theresa stretched out her arms and legs like a cat. ‘I know, it was heaving. Fab idea, Alice.’
The drinks came and Bahira went back up to the counter to grab a bunch of cakes and cookies to go with them.
Alice bit into a slab of carrot cake and said through the crumbs, ‘Didn’t we meet some amazing people today?’
‘The old ladies dressed as suffragettes,’ said Bahira.
‘Those kids with their sassy T-shirts,’ Theresa added.
‘I just wish I could spend all day every day with every single person I met, and you guys,’ sighed Alice. ‘I think I might have eaten too many of those sweets they were handing out.’ And she chomped into another big bite of cake.
‘Do you feel like you got lots of good material for Funny Pack?’ Jill asked her.
Alice nodded, chewing on the cake, her mind whizzing with memories. She worked as a freelance cartoonist focusing mainly on political, satirical or positivity and aspirational art. But mostly she was in-house for an online magazine called Funny Pack, run by a collective of individuals motivated by finding the humour, or if not the humour then the optimism, in current affairs. Alice was a big believer in making people feel good in dark times, she was proud of her work, and she wanted to create some great depictions of the Women’s March for the magazine.
‘I’m going to head back to the flat after this and try and sketch everything out tonight while it’s fresh in my mind.’
‘That’s dedication,’ said Jill. ‘I’m going to go and lie in one of my marble baths.’
They laughed. It was an ongoing joke that Jill lived in a mansion compared to the rest of them. It wasn’t true, but due to the passing of Jill’s grandmother the year before, Jill had been gifted her three-bed semi in Forest Hill, complete with driveway and enclosed, spacious garden. Alice’s flat in Islington was the size of a box in comparison; Kemi and Theresa were both in house shares, and Bahira’s home was a gorgeous, cosy townhouse in St Albans that she and her husband (and their dog) had fallen in love with when she was pregnant with her daughter Zara a couple of years back.
They rested in the companionable silence that came with knowing each other for over ten years, or in the case of Alice and Jill, their whole lives. Inseparable since childhood, they had gone to university together and met the other three there.
‘What do you want out of this year?’ Alice asked the group from behind closed eyelids.
Bahira piped up first, a woman who always knew what she wanted. ‘A big family trip outside school holidays so I don’t have to hang out with anyone else’s kids.’
‘I want to spend more time outdoors,’ Kemi answered. ‘I’m always at work or the gym so I might try running this year, maybe along the Thames.’
‘I want to see you lot more,’ Theresa said. ‘Because you don’t laugh at me when I get messy drunk like my other friends do.’
‘We laugh at you a little bit,’ Jill said.
‘What about you, Jill?’ asked Alice.
‘A pet,’ said Jill. ‘A cat or dog, I’m not sure which yet.’
‘You want a pet?’ Alice asked, cracking open her eyes and looking at her friend. ‘What’s wrong with the orchid I got you?’
Jill laughed. ‘It’ll be nice to have some company in my mansion, and you won’t move in with me, so . . . ’
‘I like my servants’ quarters, thanks.’ Alice smiled, closing her eyes again.
‘And I want to travel more,’ Jill continued. ‘I want to be one of the Instagram goddesses that goes camping in the wilderness with their big dog and speaks in motivational quotes.’
‘That’s quite a lifestyle change, unless you were going to camp out in Hyde Park,’ said Kemi.
Jill nodded. ‘So what about you, Alice? What do you want this year to bring?’
She thought about it for a moment. ‘A long, warm summer. And to travel more, too. And Michelle Obama to be president. And a Turner Prize for one of my cartoons. And the whole Funny Pack office to be given Women of the Year awards.’
Kemi drained her hot chocolate. ‘Keeping the dreams small this year then, Ali?’
‘I think every one of those things is going to happen for you.’
‘Thank you, Jill, and I think you will get a cat-or-dog and be very happy out in the wild.’
That evening, Alice closed the blue door of her Islington flat and all was quiet again. Her home was how she’d left it, with the mug beside the kettle, the glue and scissors and paint and brushes spread over the small round table in her kitchen/living room area. Her washing was still damp on the clothes horse. If she switched on the TV, Netflix would still be waiting for her, ready with the next episode of Grace and Frankie. It was almost as if her spending the day marching through the streets of London with 100,000 like-minded souls had never happened.
So Alice sat down to work, humming the latest powerful track from Little Mix, mug of tea beside her, and looked up at the frame above her desk, like she did before every new drawing session. Inside it was her career highlight – so far: a cartoon that had been published the previous year in the New Yorker.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes while she swept her pen over numerous pages, rough-sketching ideas for cartoons before they ran out of her head, or she ran right out of energy.
Alice’s mind kept bringing her back to the conversation with her friends, and what they wanted these next twelve months to bring. Maybe it was the Women’s March, maybe it was the hope that comes with a brand new year beginning, or maybe it was just inside her, but Alice felt like she could take on the world.
Chapter 2
Springtime in London was the first sign of the heatwave that would bathe the capital until nearly September. It was only mid-March, but coats had been hung up, shorts had been pulled out of the back of drawers and bare arms were getting the first of their yearly doses of vitamin D.
Alice walked down Kensington High Street on her way to meet Jill, having left the Funny Pack office early that Friday afternoon. The incoming lighter evenings, with the low sunshine warming her face, made the winter months worth it.
She wanted to talk to Jill, seriously, about an idea they’d both skirted around for a couple of weeks, mentioning in passing, making quips about, but never really pinning anything down. So she’d suggested they meet at a bar in the sunshine for a glass of wine.
‘Can you believe this weather?’ Jill asked as a greeting, the same greeting all Londoners were using at the moment.
‘If this can just last all summer I will have ticked at least one thing off my “what do I want to happen this year” list.’ Alice sat down and they ordered a bottle of rosé to share, because when it feels like summer you may as well go all out.
‘How was work today, honeypie?’ Jill asked, as if she were Alice’s husband.
‘Just marvellous, thank you, darling. And you?’
‘Same old, same old.’ Jill worked as a web developer, usually on long-term retainers from tech companies, which gave her the sociability of an office environment with the freedom to dictate her own hours. ‘So what did you want to talk about?’
‘Okay,’ Alice leant forward. ‘You know we both said we wanted to travel more this year?’
‘Yes, definitely.’
‘And we keep bringing it up and saying how great it would be.’
‘It would be great. You and I have a lot of fun travelling.’
Alice grinned. ‘We have had some good adventures. I was thinking, shall we just do it again? Shall we just go for it?’
‘Go backpacking again?’
‘Maybe not backpacking, but have another adventure. For a month or two, like a road trip around Europe or something.’
‘When were you thinking?’ Jill asked, sipping her wine.
‘Maybe after summer, so we have some time to save up a bit and
book the time off work. What do you think?’
Jill hesitated, and Alice felt a drip of doubt sink into her. Maybe Jill didn’t want to do something like this after all. She shouldn’t have got so ahead of herself with hope.
‘How do you feel about dogs, Alice?’ Jill asked all of a sudden.
‘Oh. Okay, we can talk about that. I like them . . . I don’t know a lot of dogs.’
‘Well, you know I said I wanted to get a pet this year?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I think I’m going to get a dog. This summer. In like, July.’
‘That’s exciting news,’ Alice cried. ‘Congratulations! Why July, specifically?’
‘Because my puppy is already, um, baking, in its mum’s tummy.’
‘What?’ laughed Alice. ‘What kind of puppy is it? How did this happen?’
Jill looked a little relieved that Alice was taking this so well. ‘A friend of a friend has a lady Bernese Mountain Dog and they wanted her to have one litter of puppies. Long story short, we got in touch and the friend said I was welcome to have one of them if I wanted.’
‘What’s a Bernese Mountain Dog?’ asked Alice. ‘They sound big.’
‘They are big.’ Jill grinned. ‘Black and orange and white, sort of like a smaller St Bernard. With big paws and a big nose and a really lovely personality. It’ll be born in May, and it’s best to take home a new puppy eight weeks after. So, July.’
‘That’s so exciting you’re going to have a puppy!’
‘Thanks for not being mad at me!’
‘Why would I be mad? Oh – because of the travelling thing? Don’t worry about that, it was only a really vague idea, I hadn’t even thought about it much.’ Alice didn’t mention that she’d wanted to meet here so they could hop straight over the road to a travel agent afterwards and start planning their route.
‘I mean . . . ’ Jill swirled the wine in her glass and stared into the distance for a moment. ‘I did think it would be pretty cool to be one of those Insta-chicks who travels with her dog.’
Alice sat up a little straighter. ‘You’d want to take him with us?’
‘It’s not the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. Where in Europe where you thinking?’