Narrow Escape Read Online Free Page B

backwards down the hill on my stomach was that I was glad the coal had managed to stay where it was.
    Cold and wet I headed back up the hill, wishing that, despite it being full of evil vampiric spiders, I’d put my coat back on. At the top of the flood defences I stared down the other steep slope toward the boat and with a shrug decided that if I could slip and slide down a hill so could the coal, and gleefully kicked the bag off the top. It did slide, it slid very well. Straight down the hill, over the edge of the riverbank and onto the frozen river. I watched it closely as it settled on top of the thick ice, waiting for the crack that would signal its watery demise. Nothing happened and after holding my breath for a couple of seconds I sent a small thank you upwards and slid down after it. Leaning out over the ice I grabbed the corners of the bag and heaved, intending to get the coal back on to the bank. The bag split at about the same time as the ice cracked. Twenty-five kilos of coal headed for the bottom of the river, leaving me standing on the bank with an empty bag in my hand. The next thought I sent upwards wasn’t so grateful.
    Geoff stuck his head out of the engine room and waved at me. “Is that bag empty?”
    I slowly nodded; there really wasn’t anything I could say.
    â€œThere’s some more in the car.” He gave me a big smile. “Can you manage one bag? I’m a bit busy at the moment. I’ll bring the others up later.” He looked down at his watch and shook his head. “Good grief, it’s taken you almost half an hour to get out here? If you don’t hurry up that fire will have gone out and we’ll have to light it again.” His head disappeared back into the darkness.
    The next bag took twice as long to carry up, and more than twice as long to carry carefully down the other side. By the time I got back inside the boat my fingers and toes felt like ice lollies but everything else was sweating up a storm.
    Sam wandered past with his head in a book. “It’s a bit cold in here.”
    I gritted my teeth and decided that, for once, I was going to follow my mother’s advice. ‘If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.’
    The only place I was truly warm was at work. Addenbrookes hospital must have a huge heating bill because the place always seems to be somewhere in the balmy 80s. Monday morning and, clutching a supersized cup of coffee I shuffled through the office shedding clothes as I walked. I must have got rid of at least three layers before ending up at the bright pink shirt that was part of my uniform.
    Throwing myself into a chair I stared at the glum face of my boss. “Erm. Good Morning?” At the complete and utter silence I began to worry. “Am I late, did you have a bad weekend?” Still no response. “What on earth’s the matter?”
    Angela, the manager, handed me a memo. “More redundancies, I’m afraid.”
    I stared at the memo. There, sure enough, was a long explanation of the problems the company had been facing. The only way they were going to stay afloat was to get rid of more staff. The first wave of people had already been removed and now it was only Angela and myself that covered the entire hospital which consisted of over a thousand units. I wasn’t really surprised, with the all singing, all dancing new units that had been installed, we still found time to watch telly and relax.
    â€œWell I guess I’m looking for a new job.” Angela had certainly been with the company longer than me, it was a foregone conclusion. “Damn,” I muttered into a cup of coffee, “I don’t want to get a real job.”
    â€œWell, you’ve got at least three months.” Angela produced a bag of cookies from her desk drawer and waved them in my general direction.
    I took a cookie and dunked it in my coffee. Damn it all, I actually enjoyed this