Snowdrifts of Destiny
Matthew, a thirty-five-year-old solicitor, had always despised New Years Eve. It wasnt a celebration in his eyes, just a marathon of forced cheerfulness.
The frantic search for the perfect present for colleagues he could barely tolerate, and of course, the dreaded office party. This year, his firm had decided to go all out and hired an entire country manor just outside London.
He drove there in his immaculate black car, listening to a podcast on tax regulations, and rehearsed his plan: show up for an hour, have a glass of prosecco, exchange cordial words with the management, and slip away home before anyone noticed.
When Matthew arrived, the manor was already buzzing like an agitated beehive. People in garish attire flitted about, laughing rather ostentatiously to create the impression of revelry.
He grabbed his drink, planted himself by the wall like a sentry, and watched the charade unfold. He felt like an alien, stranded on a planet where the only law was compulsory happiness.
***
Thats when he saw her. The stranger wasnt the most glamorous or the loudest. She stood a little apart from the others, gazing out a window at the swirling snow.
She wore a simple navy dress and held a glass of juice. Yet she didnt appear lonely or sad; rather, she seemed wonderfully at ease in her own company.
Matthew realised she looked just as he felt.
“Awful night for a drive home,” he ventured awkwardly as he walked over.
(It was the first thing that popped into his head.)
She turned and smilednot a stiff, obligatory smile like all the others, but something gentle and true.
But isnt it beautiful? she replied, nodding at the window. When the citys buried in snow, it feels like all the usual worries are tucked away beneath it.
Matthew was caught off guard. Any answer but that.
Matthew, he introduced himself.
Holly, she said, shaking his hand, from accounts. I think weve crossed paths in the lift once or twice.
Silence followed, but it felt restful, almost reassuring.
The storm outside grew fiercer. Someone over the loudspeaker announced that the snow had blocked the roads; no one was getting back to London tonight.
A wave of disappointment and nervous chatter rippled through the room.
Matthew cursed inwardly. His plan was ruined.
So, Mr Solicitor, ready to spend a night on a camp bed? Holly asked, wryly.
My training never covered this scenario, he chuckled. And you?
I always carry a good charger and a book. Im ready for most disasters, Holly grinned.
Freed from itineraries and pretence, that evening they finally talked.
They discovered Holly adored classic black-and-white films, while Matthew, who usually avoided them, agreed to watch one if shed explain its fascination.
Matthew confessed hed always dreamed of quitting law to open a small coffee shop someday. Holly, in turn, admitted she painted watercolours but never showed anyone her work.
They sat together in the corner, forgetting about the noisy party, sipping hot tea from Hollys flask.
She told him about her cat, Boris, who loved chasing snowflakes on the windowsill, and he regaled her with tales of his grandmother, whod taught him to bake honey cake.
When midnight struck, there was no shouting or cheering. They simply looked at each other.
Happy New Year, Matthew, Holly whispered.
Happy New Year, Holly, he replied.
That night, instead of luxury bedrooms, they slept on two folding beds in a small lounge, set up by the inns staff for those stranded by the storm. Nearby. They spoke in hushed voices until dawn, as the storm outside slowly faded.
In the morning, with the roads cleared, they stepped into a world blanketed in pristine white. The sun was dazzling against the drifts of snow.
Where to now? Matthew asked.
To the bus stop. Home, Holly replied.
Well I could give you a lift?
She looked at him, laughter dancing in her eyes.
What if I told you I love how quiet and frozen everything is, and I wanted to walk, just to savour it a bit longer?
Matthew understood. That night had not been a coincidence.
It was the start of something genuine, something new.
In that case, let me walk with you, he said, with certainty.
And so, together, they set off across the untouched snow, on the first day of the New Year, leaving behind a trail that disappeared into a bright, unknown future.
Sometimes, you just have to believe in it…
