INTO THE STORM

Caroline came hurtling down the corridor; “Ali!  You can’t go!  I won’t let you!”

I said nothing, but she talked on.
“The storm’s coming and the route you’re taking is heading right into it!  They say don’t travel unless absolutely necessary!”
“It’s necessary.”
“Don’t go on your own.  Let me come or Gina.  Have you spoken to Gina?”
Gina had said don’t go.
“You can’t manage on your own,” insisted Caroline, “you can’t do it.”
“I’ll be fine,” I stated, “look outside, the sun is shining!”

There was a low growl of thunder as I walked past the grim office buildings to the car park.  I could see the black clouds piling in stark contrast to the blue sky.  People always exaggerated, they’d forecast an immense storm, but nothing major would happen.  I drove to the motorway.  It was busy at first, but as the day darkened, the clouds packed in and the fat rain pelted windscreens, the cars peeled off.  They took this junction or that, heading to the comfort of home, family, food and wine.  I continued, windscreen wipers at highest setting, taking comfort from the presence of a BMW ahead.  As I crossed the bridge, a huge gust of wind nearly tore the wheel from my hands; I fought for a few seconds to right the car, to get it in a straight line.  The BMW slowed right down, hazard lights on.

It became difficult to see through evermore relentless rain.  Now and then the thunder would drown out the warning voices on my radio.   The BMW was slowing, we were being flagged down.  I opened my window, the cop looked in; “Where you going?”

I told him.
“The river’s about to burst its banks, you can’t ...”
I just drove off.  All week I’d been hearing ‘you can’t’, ‘it’s impossible’, ‘you’ll never make it’, ‘you can’t do it alone’. I was sick of it.

No more BMW and the Police hadn’t followed ... Suddenly I wished they were here, Gina was always calm in emergencies and Caroline would be joking by now.  I had to prove to them that I was strong though, because they’d never believed in me.  I had to face the storm.

Suddenly I became aware that it wasn’t puddles anymore, I was driving through deepening water.  I couldn’t turn back, it was only five miles to my destination junction.  The cop had said the river had burst its banks.  Well, how bad could it flood on a motorway?  I kept in a low gear, but after three miles the engine just choked and died.  Out of the window, I could see the water had risen up past the tyres; it was seeping through the floor.  My feet were wet.

I sat there for some time, thinking about how weak I’d been and how strong I’d have to be now.  It didn’t occur to me to go back.  I thought of how you’d be waiting for me at the other side, just as I remembered you, the man I fell in love with and it was only two miles to my destination ...

I opened the door; the water was thigh high and freezing.  I plunged through it, the rain on my face, the sky all dark, not a chink of light or a hint of the storm easing off anywhere.  I held my bag with my phone, my keys my purse aloft.  I felt the strength of the current, trying to drag me in another direction.  I continued on my way, into the dark and cold.