Snow Is Falling

By C Vallance

Christmas. A time for families to celebrate together. To be merry and bright. Emma Snow is reluctant to return to her husband Colin’s family home for Christmas this year, with a seemingly good reason. Maisie Snow is a perfectionist with high standards and expectations from all of her children; however, she is starting to feel like she is no longer needed. Ming Pun is nervous about visiting her boyfriend Harris’ family for the first time and brings with her a big secret. This Christmas turns out to be more unpredictable and unexpected than any of these three women could possibly have imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Sep 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781398421127

C Vallance

C Vallance is a Scottish author who has had an interest in writing from a young age and has often found inspiration from his own family and the spectacular scenery that Scotland has to offer. Snow Is Falling is his first novel. When not writing, C enjoys travelling and spending time with his family who are slightly less dramatic (most of the time) than the Snow family.

Book preview

Snow Is Falling

C Vallance

Austin Macauley Publishers

Snow Is Falling

About the Author

Dedication

Copyright Information ©

Acknowledgement

Part 1: December 23 At Christmas, All Roads Lead Home.

Chapter 1: Emma

Chapter 2: Maisie

Chapter 3: Ming

Chapter 4: Emma

Chapter 5: Ming

Chapter 6: Maisie

Chapter 7: Emma

Part 2: December 24 ’Twas the Night Before Christmas, When All Through the House, Not a Creature Was Stirring, Not Even a Mouse.

Chapter 8: Ming

Chapter 9: Maisie

Chapter 10: Emma

Chapter 11: Ming

Chapter 12: Maisie

Chapter 13: Emma

Chapter 14: Ming

Chapter 15: Maisie

Part 3: December 25 It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Chapter 16: Emma

Chapter 17: Ming

Chapter 18: Maisie

Chapter 19: Emma

Chapter 20: Ming

Chapter 21: Maisie

About the Author

C Vallance is a Scottish author who has had an interest in writing from a young age and has often found inspiration from his own family and the spectacular scenery that Scotland has to offer. Snow Is Falling is his first novel. When not writing, C enjoys travelling and spending time with his family who are slightly less dramatic (most of the time) than the Snow family.

Dedication

I dedicate this book to the three M’s in my own life – Maisie, May and Mary. You all inspire me every day.

I also dedicate the book to my own mother, Carol, who has always encouraged me to pursue my dreams.

And finally, I dedicate the book to my long-suffering husband, Keenan. Thank you for always being there.

Copyright Information ©

C Vallance (2021)

The right of C Vallance to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398421110 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398421127 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2021)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgement

Thank you to Austin Macauley Publishers for believing in my story. Thank you to all my friends who have shown support and offered advice or unknowingly provided some inspiration along the way.

Part 1

December 23

"At Christmas, All Roads

Lead Home."

Chapter 1: Emma

Emma Snow felt ready to grab the wheel of the Land Rover from her husband Colin and plunge the car straight into one of the pine trees, which lined the banks of the narrow road, just to escape the sheer hell of being trapped in a freezing car while driving for hours with possibly the three most tiresome and frustrating people on earth – her family.

The twins, Ava and Mason, were seated in the back and had been screaming at one another for the last hour. They were fighting over whose turn it was to play the sodding games console they had.

More frustrating was that Colin was doing nothing. Nothing, as if it was perfectly normal for their children to behave like a pair of shits. As usual, he was sitting and gently humming a song to himself while admiring the passing mountain scenery as if he was in some sort of Scottish tourism advert. Twat.

Emma was not sure who she currently hated more – Colin or the children. She pushed her hands down onto her creased linen trousers and took a deep breath. They had been driving since five am, and every trip they made seemed to be more agonising and longer than the last. Maybe there was some paracetamol or tramadol in her bag.

As she bent forward to look for her bag, she felt a kick to the back of the chair, which pushed her forward and resulted in her head being slammed sharply against the window. She bolted around quickly in her seat and glared at the two monsters sitting in the back seat who were still arguing without the slightest awareness that they had nearly given her a concussion.

Right! she screamed. That is fucking enough! Give me that bloody game now. Now Ava! Or we’ll turn this car around and go straight back to London! And there will be no Christmas or presents or fucking Turkeying Santa for anyone this year!

Both twins stared at her with their eyes frozen for a moment. For their eight years of age, both were small and wiry with the same thick brown hair and clear blue eyes as their father’s. But even if they lacked in size, they more than made up for it with their noisy personalities. Emma believed they both had small child syndrome.

Ava began to giggle. Dad, Dad, Mum said the F word. Mum said the F word! OOOOOH AAAAAAH!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Mason chanted loudly as he laughed beside her.

Emma turned outraged to look at her husband for support, who was trying to stifle a laugh.

Mum should not have said that, he said looking back with a straight face. Bad Mum.

Emma glared at him and snatched the game console from Ava.

Mum! Ava shrieked as she reached for it. Emma slammed it into the glove compartment and closed it tightly, feeling a slight sense of satisfaction as it clicked shut. Small victories, you had to take them where you could get them. As she looked to the side, she caught a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror and almost did a double-take.

Her pale skin was flushed and blotchy, and the chin-length dark haircut she had been trying to grow out was messy and appeared to have kinked at the side somehow. Emma had meant to get it cut before the trip but had been working late every night to finish a project for a new client. Her pale grey eyes were bloodshot and desperate-looking. Although naturally thin, she felt dumpy and shapeless in the thick beige knit jumper that swamped her frame.

I look like an actual tramp, she thought and quickly tried to flatten down her hair. It only seemed to kink further. Hopeless.

I need a fag break, Colin, Emma said and reached in her bag for some makeup to try and fix her face before they arrived. Maisie was sure to make some kind of comment about how pale/ill/underfed she looked.

Can’t you wait? Colin frowned as he gestured at the road in front of them. We’re only about another hour away.

Mum, what can we do now? Ava shrieked loudly.

Play I spy! Emma snapped back at her before turning her wrath onto her husband. No, I can’t wait, Colin. Every year, every bloody Christmas, we go through this coming to your parents. Why do they have to live in the arse end of nowhere in the highlands? It’s a ten-hour drive from London; why don’t they come to us? Do you ever think that I might like to spend Christmas with MY family? The least you can do is stop this bloody car and let me have a bleeding cigarette!

Colin looked at her surprised, and then began to laugh. Okay, okay, we’ll stop up here in five minutes if you can hold on until then. You melodramatic old chimney!

He grabbed her leg and squeezed it. Emma squealed and glared at him and then began to laugh. She realised she was slightly more ridiculous than usual. Try and be a little bit nicer, she told herself chidingly. This was something she found herself saying most days, but it didn’t always work.

She was always surprised at how much Colin humoured her moods and tolerated her. Emma had first met him at the end of a drunken bar crawl in the first week at university. Colin had held her hair back and propped her up as she was sick in a bin. She should have known then he was a keeper.

She remembered telling him he had hair like a girl – it had been long and curly and down to his shoulders. Now his hair was cropped and grey at the temple. And he had awful, awful glasses which she had also ribbed him mercilessly for; thick lenses with a lime green frame, which made his grey eyes look wide and startled. Now he wore contacts.

Emma had been pretty surprised when he actually wanted to see her again after that first night, and even more surprised four years later when he proposed to her on the London Eye – he was not really one for big public gestures. She could still see his flushed, red face as he got down on one knee.

There now, isn’t that bad, is it grumpy? Colin smiled at her.

Bad enough, Emma muttered as she searched in her bag for a packet of cigarettes. A glass of red wouldn’t go amiss either.

I’m sure Dad will have the drinks cabinet well stocked up with wine for you to medicate yourself with, Colin said.

Look, Mum, I’m smoking! Ava exclaimed as she held a pencil to her lips and puffed out dramatically.

Fuck Fuck Fuck! Mason chanted again.

Emma snorted and tried not to laugh as she looked back in the mirror at them.

Glad you’re both following in your mum’s footsteps, Colin said dryly.

Emma knew Colin wasn’t happy that she still smoked. She had stopped for a while when the children were young but later found it was one of the few ways to relieve stress when the children had driven her to the point of insanity with screaming and fighting each day. At least it’s not heroin, she had told Colin smugly the last time he brought it up. Colin had looked at her as if that was not much of a consolation. To be fair, she had seen some drug addicts in London that looked slightly better presented than she often was.

So, Emma said as she ran a comb that she had managed to fish out of her bag through her tangled hair. Do you think old Maisie will like Harris’s new girlfriend?

Who’s old Maisie? Mason asked curiously.

It’s Granny, Mason. Mum’s just being silly. Don’t call my mother old, Colin said, hitting her arm. I’ve no idea – I don’t think my brother will care if they do or not.

How long have they been together now? Emma asked. She checked her hair again in the mirror. It looked slightly more presentable now. Perhaps.

Don’t know? Six months or so maybe, Colin said. It will be another in a long line, I guess!

One thing’s for sure, she won’t be good enough for Maisie Snow’s darling boy anyway, Emma said as she applied some mascara. She was perhaps slightly too generous with it giving her wide eyes more of a panda appearance, but at least it took the focus away from the bloodshot look: silver cloud and all that.

Like you were? Colin teased.

Emma remembered the first time she had met Maisie. It had actually been just before Christmas in London, and Colin had brought her to a fancy sushi restaurant to meet Maisie and her husband, Hector. Emma had instantly liked Hector – he was warm, loud and honest. Maisie, on the other hand, had been reserved and spent most of the evening surveying her as if she was some kind of an escaped convict.

Emma had felt uncomfortable, and she ended up drinking two bottles of rather nice red wine. Then, she had to be carried up the stairs by both Colin and Hector. Her relationship with Maisie had not much improved since then.

Oh, eleven years later, I have well and truly stopped trying to achieve the impossible, Colin. She sighed. When does your sister arrive?

I think she may have arrived this morning, Colin said. Was flying into Inverness and getting the train, I think. Unless Dad goes to pick her up. Right, I’ll pull in here for you.

Colin pulled the car into a layby by the side of the road. Emma opened the car door and took a deep grateful breath of the cold mountain air; she was thankful to be free from the car. She lit up a cigarette and took a deep grateful draw and leant back against the car with her eyes closed. True bliss, even though the temperature felt like minus ten.

And then it was spoiled too soon. As it always was. Mason and Ava were clambering out the car, still fighting. Colin was rummaging in the boot trying to find something, and was opening a case that Emma had spent hours packing to cram everything into.

Looking at them, she was still surprised that this was it – her life. She had never particularly wanted children or a family.

Emma had been raised by a single mum who, although fun and gregarious, was more interested in men and going out than the inconvenience of having a small daughter to care for. Emma had always felt out of place. She was mostly raised by her elderly aunt, and was glad to escape to university and the freedom of being on her own.

Emma moved to London with Colin not long after graduating – they had both got a tiny bedsit in Clapham. She still remembered the revolting wool fuchsia carpet and the smell of damp that lingered no matter how much they cleaned. Colin had immediately gotten a job as a junior surveyor with a large firm, and she became a client manager with a successful advertising firm. Emma loved it – the entertainment, the parties and events. Meeting with so many different people, and the sheer excess and ridiculousness of it all. She had instantly felt part of it all and revelled in it.

For a couple of years, it was all plain-sailing; they had been able to afford a nice townhouse in Welling, which even had a big garden with a terrace. Then, out of nowhere, she was pregnant, and just like that, the world changed.

She had denied it for a couple of weeks, just putting it down to stomach flu until one of her work friends told her to take a test. She had been sick in the toilet when she saw the result.

Emma had dreaded telling Colin as she knew that would be it. And she was right. He had been so excited and ecstatic. And she knew he would be the perfect dad.

They were then dealt with a further shock when the doctor told them at the second scan that it was twins. Emma was horrified. The thought of giving birth to one baby was terrifying enough itself, and now she was somehow giving birth to two. She remembered crying the whole way home in the car with Colin trying to comfort her. It will be okay, he had said supportively. We’ll do this together.

You’re not the one who has to squeeze two tiny people out of your twat! Emma had remembered screaming hysterically at him.

Then the twins came along, six weeks earlier than expected after a difficult and tiring pregnancy. Both of them were tiny and screaming, angry and red as they came into the world – and they had barely stopped since.

The twins had been so demanding of her time and had one illness after another. Emma’s dreams of returning to work within six months had sadly failed to materialise. Her own mother made the occasional fleeting visit to ‘help’ and would coo over the babies, ask for a cup of tea and then make a hasty departure.

Emma spent most of those initial first months sitting in jogging pants and sick-stained t-shirts. She had been so exhausted that she could barely make herself get in the shower. Her employer had tried to be understanding but had essentially denied her request to go part-time, citing operational requirements.

She ended up resigning and had stayed at home with the twins until they were four and ready to start school. Emma remembered feeling so alone those years being stuck at home.

She hated all the mother and baby sensory groups as she found the parents judgemental and boring with no ambition other than to perfect the art of baby yoga or attend a weekly yummy mummy coffee club. She could tell they had not felt comfortable around her prickly personality either, and gradually, they stopped inviting her to the organised events that they relished being part of.

Motherhood had not come to her naturally, and she still found it a struggle. Everyone said it got easier, and after eight years of it being extremely hard, she stopped believing that. She managed to get a part-time job on the local council as a policy officer; it wasn’t on quite the same level as the client entertaining and dining she had been doing before, but it gave her a small escape from being stuck at home.

Smile for the camera, Colin said, interrupting her thoughts with a flash of blinding light. I can get some great shots of the mountains here.

Emma finished her cigarette savouring the last few draws, and stuck her tongue out for the camera. She flicked the butt down onto the snow-covered grass, which made a satisfying sizzle in the snow.

Mum littered! Mason called loudly as he pointed at the cigarette. Mum littered!

There are no bins! Emma shouted exasperatedly, then she realised how ridiculous she sounded defending her smoking to a child. Colin, get the monsters back in the car. I’m just going to the toilet.

There’s no toilet!