Into My Heart An Air that Kills - Brahms Heelshire The Boy

Alternate Ending - In the snow with Rosebud

December arrived with an arctic blast that brought snow and a killing frost to the Welsh countryside. The weather was exceptional for Britain, Laurie learned, and a white Christmas was predicted. As none of the fireplaces were usable, they kept the central heating on day and night. The old Aga cooker in the kitchen kept that room toasty warm all the time and Laurie ordered extra groceries from Thomas.

One late afternoon it began to snow in earnest and Laurie engineered it so that she might introduce Brahms to the fun of a snowball fight. Great thick flat flakes fell from the sky as they trudged through the knee deep snow to inspect the traps. They were all empty.

"Well, we've either wiped out the rat population round here at last, or rodents hate the cold," she remarked.

Brahms, wrapped in one of his father's old overcoats, pulled a face. "It's freezing. Let's go in."

Laurie lunged at him, tapped his arm and said, "You're It!" She scampered off a few feet then turned to grin at him. Brahms exhaled through his nose, creating two twin plumes of vapour.

"Well, come on, Brahms! You gotta tag me now, then I'm It."

He scowled at her.

"Jeez, I thought you were in touch with your inner child," she scolded. She bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, moulding it into a ball. Brahms stood immobile. He was an easy target. The snowball hit him square in the forehead. Laurie burst out laughing. His facial hair, brows, and eyelashes were so frosted with white he looked as though someone had shoved a great big cream pie in his face.

"Your fucking face!" she gurgled. "Oh, Brahms..."

She watched him take off his gloves and overcoat. He didn't look angry. In fact, his face was studiously blank. Laurie lifted her arms then slapped them on her thighs. "It's a joke, Brahms!"

He broke into a run and she yelped and fled. Running through shin deep snow in Wellington boots wasn't a thing Laurie did well. She could hear him panting behind her and wasn't entirely sure if he was joining in the fun or pissed off. Holy shit, she thought. What if I've pissed him off again...

He took her with a rugby tackle that saw them both rolling around on the ground. Laurie squealed and tried to wriggle free, but Brahms grabbed her from behind, yanked her jacket up, then ripped up her sweater, then rubbed a handful of icy snow on her naked belly. At her shriek of laughter, he burst out laughing himself. Laurie rolled over to watch him. He knelt in the snow, his head thrown back, and the gesture transformed him.

It was the first time she'd ever seen him laugh.

Slowly, he sobered, became wistful. "I remember playing out in the snow when I was a kid, before the fire. Building a snowman with dad. Him pulling me on my sled. I loved that sled. It was hand-painted with the name "Rosebud". When I asked dad why, he told me sleds were like hurricanes and always had female names, and she'd been named after the sled in his favourite film, Citizen Kane. I didn't understand what he'd meant until years later when I watched the movie. I was happy in the snow that last winter."

"It's good to see you happy again, Brahms."

His smile was guileless. "You're my Rosebud."

Laurie woke with a raging thirst. She glanced at the luminous dial on her watch. 5.30am. For a moment she stared at the empty pillow next to hers. Only hours before, Brahms had lay with her while she fell asleep in his arms. She lay down again and pressed her face to the pillowcase. She could smell his scent, a fragrance unique to him. She smiled in the darkness remembering their lovemaking.