Moonstone

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Ginny woke to a gentle hand jostling her knee.

“Sweetheart,” her mother said, “we’re about to hit Silver Springs. Sorry to wake you, but we really didn’t want you to miss this.”

She peeled her eyes open and smiled, then grabbed Deborah’s hand and gave it a fond squeeze. “It’s okay, Mum. I…” She paused for a moment, taking stock of herself. “I actually feel a little better for having had some sleep. And I shouldn’t be sleeping too much now, anyway, should I, otherwise I’ll struggle tonight. I need to get accustomed to the time zone change as soon as possible.”

“Good point, Moony,” Charlie said, not taking his eyes from the road. “You’ll be all set by the time Santa comes.”

The two women shared a smirk and an eye roll, before Deborah twisted back to face the front of the car.

Ginny turned her attention to the world immediately outside the vehicle, which was overwhelmingly white. Aside from the road, which was a meandering strip of dark gray, with pale gray slush piling up at its edges, everything else was white—almost blindingly so. They were in a rural area, with not a building in sight, and the steep road verges leveled out into a flat, snow-covered area. When she looked farther away, Ginny realized the snow hadn’t quite covered everything. As her gaze landed on the beginnings of a wood or forest, she picked out the brown trunks and the occasional glimpse of vibrant green. The enormous trees reached high into the bright blue sky. Ginny craned her neck to try to see the tops, feeling as tiny, as insignificant, as an ant compared to an elephant.

Shaking her head in awe, she returned her attention to ground level and gasped as something whizzed across her line of sight and disappeared into the trees. What was that? A deer? Cool!

She sat and watched the world go by, contentment seeping through her, filling her up. It was a true winter wonderland. When she’d left London, it had been hunkered down under gloomy skies which frequently and repeatedly emptied bucketloads of rain onto its inhabitants. No snow, not even the promise of it—much less the thick, pristine stuff which sparkled in the light as though it was scattered with millions of tiny diamonds, like here. To be fair, if London—or any of the UK, for that matter—got an equivalent amount of snow dumped on it, things would grind to a resounding halt. Any more than a sprinkling, and panic ensued. People forgot how to drive sensibly, councils ran out of grit, supermarkets ran out of bread, milk, and eggs. Ridiculous, really—particularly for one of the richest countries in the world.

Here, though, it seemed everything carried on as normal. At some point, a snow plough had been along and shifted the white stuff off the highway, leaving it free and clear for use. Many of the other vehicles she’d seen were SUVs, much better equipped for inclement weather, and probably sporting snow tires, too. Her parents hadn’t bothered with an SUV, presumably because they rarely left Silver Springs. Their home was also their place of work, and she’d gathered from conversations she’d had with them over the past few years that the small town had pretty much everything they needed to get by. They certainly didn’t seem to miss the multitude of well, everything, that London had to offer.

Speaking of Silver Springs, Ginny suspected she was about to get her first glimpse. The trees were thinning and, after a moment, buildings broke into view.

“Here we are, sweetheart,” Deborah said, turning again to grin at her daughter from the front seat, “Silver Springs, New York. Welcome. The retreat is on this side of town, so you won’t get to see much, but you’ve got plenty of time to explore before you go back to London.”

“Hey, now,” Charlie protested, “she’s only just got here—no need to talk about her going back to London already!”

“Sorry, darling,” Deborah replied, flashing Ginny an ‘oops’ look before facing front again, “I was just saying. I want Moo—Ginny to have a wonderful time and find out just why we love it here so much.”

Shaking her head to herself at her mother’s almost slip-up when it came to her preferred moniker, Ginny couldn’t help but smile. They really did seem to love it here. But what did the townsfolk think of them? Had they seen the Miles’ heading off in the car dressed in Santa outfits and thought they were nuts, or had they shaken their heads and smiled fondly, much like Ginny was doing right now? Obviously, she was biased, but she’d always thought of her parents as the type of people it was impossible to dislike.

She guessed she’d find out soon enough.

“Don’t worry, Mum, I’m sure I will have a wonderful time. How could I not—I’m with you two. As for exploring your new home, like you said, there’s plenty of time for that. For the rest of today, though, all I want to do is spend time catching up with you guys and checking out the retreat. Is that all right? You haven’t planned for us to go out anywhere, have you?” She bit her lip anxiously. Under normal circumstances, she was incredibly sociable, but after hours of traveling and not much sleep, she wasn’t exactly sparkling company.

“Of course that’s all right, sweetheart. And no, we haven’t made plans to go anywhere. We knew you’d be exhausted. Your bedroom is all set up ready for you, so you can go and crash whenever you feel like it. We’ve got plenty of food in, and we don’t have any clients until the new year, so it’s just us three for over a week. How wonderful is that?”

In Ginny’s opinion, wonderful didn’t even come close to covering it. After a few years of spending the festive period busting a gut in commercial kitchens, a nice, quiet Christmas with just her and her parents sounded idyllic. “Perfect, Mum. That sounds just perfect.”

Silence reigned, then, as Charlie drove them a little farther along the town’s approach road, before turning off next to a large sign which read The Retreat at Silver Springs. The way became more difficult, as asphalt turned to dirt track. To Ginny’s surprise, although the going was bumpier, it was clear of snow. “Do the snow ploughs come down here, too?”

“Not the public ones,” her father replied. “We’re so high up here that winters are always harsh, so the town clubbed together a few years back and bought a small snow plough for us all to use on our private driveways. It’s not so bad for folks with smaller driveways that basically fit one or two cars and could be cleared by hand or with a snow thrower if necessary. But there are quite a few of us with long tracks, like this one, where shifting the snow with shovels or throwers just isn’t practical—especially when you consider how often it snows in winter. If it was just me and your mother clearing this, by the time we’d got from the retreat to the road, it’d probably have snowed again and obliterated all our hard work. Not to mention killed us off. We might be feeling fit and healthy, but we’re not machines.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “Wow, that’s impressive. So, how does it work? If it’s technically owned by the town, how is it decided who gets to use it and when? And does anyone get priority?”

Charlie chuckled. “Inquisitive as ever, Moony. Several of us were worried about that kind of thing at the time, so we devised a plan. We don’t all just borrow the thing to clean our own driveways, then take it back. There’s a rota. After a snowfall—one that warrants clearing driveways, that is—the next person on the list fetches the plough, then follows a planned route from the outskirts of town, back towards the center. If the snow is bad enough that it takes longer than a day to get everyone cleared, the next person on the rota collects the plough the following day, and carries on. If the snow is forecast to be prolonged, though—in other words, so heavy it’s pointless clearing it because it’ll be back again the next day—we tend to hunker down and wait it out. It’s the perfect excuse for your mother to go crazy with the grocery shopping when that happens. You know what she’s like for buying too much.”

With a snigger, she replied, “Yeah, Dad, I do. I imagine she’s gone particularly wild in the aisles this time, since it’s Christmas.”

“And you’re here,” Charlie added. “By the time your mother was finished, the store looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic film.”

“Oh, shut up, you two,” Deborah said with a wave of her hand. “You do exaggerate, Charlie.” She gave her husband’s arm a playful smack.

Ginny caught her dad’s wink in the rear-view mirror, but said nothing. The resultant smirk was wiped off her face when they passed a stand of trees and a large body of water was revealed beyond it, stretching way off to one side of the track. “Wow, that’s beautiful. What is it, a lake, a river?”

Her mother replied, “Better. That, sweetheart, is Silver Springs—where the town gets its name. It’s a cave system with hot springs. The story goes that if you throw a silver coin into the water on a full moon, your wish will come true.”

“Hot springs? That’s amazing.” Now she was paying more attention, she could see steam rising from the water’s surface. “Is it on your land?”

“No. It’s public land. One of the access points is just here, so don’t be alarmed if you see people walking up this track—they’re allowed. A little further up there’s a fence which keeps the retreat private and secure.”

“Okay, cool. So do people come and swim in the springs and stuff? Is it safe?”

“Oh, yes,” Charlie chipped in, “it’s got all these wonderful health benefits—you know, because of the minerals and stuff. But also, it’s just fun to have a body of warm water to swim in. Your mother and I take a dip at least a couple of times a week.”

Ginny’s eyes went wide. “Even in this weather?”

“Especially in this weather—it gets the blood pumping. You should try it, Moony. I reckon that spring is more than half the reason your mother and I feel so much better since moving out here. Throw in the cleaner air and more relaxed lifestyle and you’ve got yourself a recipe for a perfect life. Or almost perfect, anyway. Now you’re here, perfection has most definitely been achieved.” He winked again, and this time she winked back.

“Thanks, Dad. You do seem to have a pretty sweet setup here, it has to be said.”

“Oh, kiddo, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”