You can feel it in your bones now, that icy sensation that creeps and stays. You're as brittle as those frozen puddles in the garden and it doesn't matter anymore how many fleeces you wear or how far they turn the heating up. Still, you suppose you're old now - ninety at least, a hundred maybe. You can't remember. Slowly though, you stand and shuffle towards the cool pane of glass and take the window seat. It's surprising how many lives you can live from this window.

Last night a thick layer of white swamped the field, two days too late to be a white Christmas but you suppose it's better than nothing. You remember when you feared the white. The pale shade of lily that made you shake and flee; a pale hand on your dark shoulder.

This white is different. It's speckled with bright colours that make you smile.

You pick out a family - a thin man in a too thin jacket, a woman in red, a child in woolly grape hat and tiny toddler in a snowsuit. The purple girl skips, her mismatched welly boots appearing and disappearing into the snow. She stops to catch a snowflake. What is this, you imagine her saying, can I eat it? It doesn't taste as good as ice cream. The woman in red throws a snowball at the man in the jacket who laughs. The toddler on his hip keeps a blank face; a young skeptic, you think.

You had a family once. You still do, actually. Your granddaughter is visiting today. She looks like your missus did when she was young, but Samara wears too much make up and fell for a guy called Benjamin who still goes to lengths to pull off extravagant pranks. You envy them and their big smiles.

Across the field, a young man is laughing, tilting his head up to face the snow. The flakes tangle into his wild hair and decorate his dark face and the blonde man besides him rolls his eyes, but nothing hides the faint grin. The blonde man only has one arm, you notice, and you trace their story back to a foreign land.

You remember the war. You remember a man shouting, shouting that he would not go. You never saw him again. You remember the colder land, the louder land and the girls and the men who worked with you and smiled at you. You remember the fear of having nowhere to go when you got home.

You're getting cold sitting here by the window and the woman pulling the two children on the sledge doesn't help. You imagine that her fingers are red from the chill but she keeps going, following instructions bellowed from the chubby faced pair. You remember being so hungry you picked at a mouldy loaf from the side of the road.

Besides the woman stands another and if you squint, you can make out red and brown dreadlocks beneath her colourful hat. Two young children without coats leap about around her and you wonder why the blonde woman looks so uncomfortable. Sisters? Neighbours? Distant cousins? Your brother was always the sensible one. You concentrated on growing your hair into an Afro whilst he did his best to learn at the terrible little schoolhouse two blocks away.

The teenagers come now, a wild haze and you notice the children clear a path so the big boys can get their space. You remember getting into a fight with a big boy once. He knocked your front two baby teeth clean out and you didn't get the new ones for months.

One teen has thrown himself down on the floor, as if to make a snow angel. His friend, a blur of blond hair, stands above him, mock anger in his stance but he claps him on the back and they shove and push each other as they walk away, scooping up handfuls of snow, laughing.

You remember a man at a ranch in a far off place who talked peace and mules and you chased each other through the field one night just because you could.

A couple saunter through the field, a herd of children that can't be theirs trailing after them. They're sharing one coat between them and you adjust your glasses to be sure. You smile and remember the day when you saw your missus folding serviettes and she giggled at you because back then you only spoke American…

A knock at the door disturbs the scene, just as you'd set eyes on a smiley man building a snowman for his children.

'Mr de Ritta, your granddaughter's here,' a voice coos. You turn. So she is. And how you wish they'd learn your first name.

'Mummy, Mummy!' Emmy hurtled into the room, her childhood curls in a disarray, poking out from beneath the purple grape hat 'Da-ddeee, wake up!'

Joni tucked her face further into her pillow and with a sigh, Adrian rolled over, blinking slowly until Emmy's fuzzy, excited form came into view.

'Ems, it's early, go back to sleep.'

'But Daddy, it's… SNOWED!'

'Snowed? You've got to be…'

'Did you say snowed, Emmy?' Joni was suddenly sitting upright, hand balanced on Adrian's arm.

'Yes!' the child bounced up and down, grinning widely 'and it is actual, real snow. Not just that frosty stuff, actual, thick snow, like this thick,' Emmy spread her arms apart wide, then giggled 'or maybe a little bit less that that.'

'Let me come and see,' Joni wriggled out of the bed, reaching up to pull open the curtains, letting in a glaring shade of white 'she's right. Looks like the clouds have fallen right out of the sky and onto the floor.'

'And frozen, they had to freeze first Mummy. They look like they been put in the freezer like frozen yoghurt' Emmy bounced across the bed, joining Joni at the window, pointing excitedly at the snow.

'Let's go out now Mummy, before all those other people do. Please Mummy.'

Joni turned back to Adrian with a wicked grin 'yes, let's.'

'Do we have to?' Adrian scowled, reaching over to find his glasses.

'Yes, yes, yes, Daddy,' Emmy jumped onto the bed, flinging her arms round Adrian's neck 'you have to come Daddy.'

'Alright, if I have to,' he rolled his eyes with a sigh 'is SiSi up yet?'

'Nope, can I go get her?'

Adrian nodded as his daughter skipped back out of the room.

'You know you love snow really,' Joni sidled up to him 'you enjoyed it last year.'

'What? Being bombarded with snowballs by you, Emmy, Kareem, Chloe and Benjamin? Yes, joyous.'

'We told you to run,' Joni held back a laugh as Adrian shook his head.

'Sierra's going to hate it.'

'Of course,' Joni beamed.

'…it's white and cold and nice, no Sierra, come and see,' Emmy tugged Sierra in, letting go of her hand to skip back to the window, pressing her nose up against the glass.

'Look Sierra, SiSi, come and see the snow!'

Emmy pointed excitedly, hopping slightly, whilst Sierra perched on the side of the bed, a little bemused frown upon her face.

****
Samara woke to a sort of cold sliding down her spine and she struggled to sit up, tearing her head round, bleary eyes attempting to make out the shape the man.

'Ben? That you?'

The shrieking giggle told her all she needed to know.

'What the hell are you doing?'

'Got it from outside,' he held up a soggy hand.

'Got what?'

'Snow, obviously.'

'You serious! And on the day we have to go and see Gramps.'

'Good thing I already built a snowman then, isn't it.'

'When did you have time to do that?' Samara stretched, shaking the melted ice out of her pyjama top.

Benjamin grinned, standing up to pull back the curtains 'take a look.'

'Ben!' she shrieked 'since when do snowmen carry water pistols…'
****

'Well for one, it's cold and wet and generally disgusting. And then the whole country just goes completely stupid as if we're a whole bunch of idiots who can't handle a pathetic little layer of snow and we can't because the government are absolutely useless when it comes to these things. And you know, they didn't even forecast it for today, they said it would be on Friday.'

'Calm down Evan or you will get so, so mad you will melt all the snow!' little Raffin was done up for the artic, waterproof coat, hat, scarf and skiing gloves.

'I have always liked the snow actually,' Jamil said, sticking out his tongue to catch a particularly large flake.

'That's because you are weird,' Evan raised his eyebrows, slamming lightly into Jamil's shoulder. On the compacted snowy surface, Jamil quickly lost his balance, toppling over, his hands and feet sinking into the snow.

'See,' Evan grinned 'what did I tell you about snow?'

'It is just a little damp and cold,' Jamil shook his head as Evan pulled him up, swinging his arm round Jamil's shoulder.

'Exactly.'

'But,' Jamil grinned sweetly 'I still love it.'

'Do you want to go back in the snow?'

'I'm going to throw a snowball at you when we get to the park, Evan!' Raffin jumped in front on them, hands on his hips.

'Not if I throw one at you first.'

'But you do not like the snow, Evvy.'

'Clearly, Jammy you do want to go in the snow.'
****

'Will you two just get on the sledge and stay on it. Please!' Marie's voice wavered as she tugged the pair up the hill. They'd gotten to be rather heavy.

'Mu-um, we need to go back because I dropped my gloves.'

'No, Noah, we can't love, we have to meet Auntie Stephie soon. I said we'd…'

'But Mu-um, my hands are going to completely freeze, we need to go back or I won't be able to do anything.'

'Look,' Marie snapped her own gloves off 'wear these.'

The cold bit into her hands immediately and she wondered if she'd remembered her hand cream.

'Haha, Noah's got girly glove, Noah has girly gloves,' Ava sung, poking her brother's arm.

'Ava, sweetheart, leave your brother…look, we're here, at the park.'

'Yeah Mum, we can see that.'

'No, you can't Ava.'

'Yes I can.'

'Can you see Auntie Stephie?'

'No.'

'I can!'

'Where, love?'

'No, I can't really,' the pair let out a shrill giggle.

'Oh no, I really can see her now, why is she wearing that hat Mum? You can't see any of her smelly hair though.'

'Hush now,' Marie whispered quickly 'Stephie, hello, oh hello August, October.'

'Mum – that is so unfair,' Ava had pouted as soon as she caught sight of her cousins 'why did you make us wear all this winter stuff when they don't even have to do.'
****

'Mummy, I'm cold.'

'So am I, Mummy!'

'You've got your jackets, babes,' Stephie smiled, tapping their heads gently.

'But everyone else has coats Mummy,' October pawed at Stephie's jacket and August quickly did the same.

'Get off, you two,' Stephie chuckled, wrapping her arms round the pair 'you've got your ear muffs anyway.'

'But your hat is bigger than them, so you don't know how cold it is.'

'But as soon as you start running, you'll be nice and toasty.'

'Can we run?' August jumped up and down.

'We might slip.'

'Then we'll fall and go splat – please Mummy, let's run. I wanna build a snow man fast. The biggest ever snowman,' October curled her hand into Stephie's.

'Me too! It will be this big Mummy,' August spread his arms wide.

'Well, we better run then so you get the best snow. Come on twins,' Stephie took both of their hands, slipping and sliding as the trio jogged to the park.

****
'Snow makes me feel like a right angel,' Jaz grinned, hurling a handful of snow in Ara's face.

'Define angel for me, Jaz,' Ara grinned, shaking the snow from his face, flicking a flake back at his friend.

'Oh you know what I mean – there's something so – what's that word – refreshing about it, all so white.'

'Like a fresh sheet of paper,' Ara smiled 'everything else forgotten. That sort of feeling?'

'Exactly!'

'So basically you don't feel hung over or drugged up – this is how normal people feel after a good night's sleep, Jaz,' Ara grinned, slinging an arm across his shoulders, almost condescendingly.

'No you idiot, I said like an angel. I mean, really, like an angel,' Jaz flung himself down, creating a star shape in the snow, moving his arms and legs.

'Get up, you idiot. I get it, you're an angel – holy in fact.'

'Help me up then,' Ara held out a hand, heaving Jaz to his feet, letting the boy stumble.

'Oh yes, I see it,' he clapped him on the back 'so angelic.'
****
Erin shivered, rubbing her hands across her arms as they walked across the field.

'Ez, why didn't you wear a coat?' Sonnie sighed, wrapping an arm around the girl.

'Well, for starters, it totally kills the style, and second,' she beamed into his face 'you can be my coat, right?'

'Seriously, Ez,' he shook his head, but began taking off his coat anywhere 'here, share.'

'We so need a twinsie,' Erin snuggled into the coat as they continued across the park.

'Mmm,' Sonnie murmured 'That lot are being strangely quiet.'

'Yes… why is Mitchell trusting us with all of them?'

'Who knows,' Sonnie slipped an arm round Erin's waist 'they're probably plotting something.'

'Poo, Poo! Ezzie!' Jaidon's voice called out across the excited chatter and warbles from other families.

'Oh god…' Sonnie said, turning slowly, only to be bombarded with a barrage of snowballs.

As it came to an end, the group of children were giggling hysterically, the oldest just managing to compose himself to say 'snow's so chill.'

'Oh, I see how it is,' Sonnie shook his head, eyebrows raised 'you want a war.'

'Yeah!' Jaidon shrieked, throwing her arms into the air 'grownups against children! Let's go.'
*****

'It looks like Mummy,' little Henry pointed out when Kareem has finished, stepping back to admire his snowman.

'Mummy's dead, so it doesn't really,' Johnny pouted indifferently 'Mrs Billing said when we die all our bodies go away and go mushy, so it will only look like mummy when it melts.'

'Johnny – don't be gross and mean,' Amber stood, hands on hips, glaring at her younger brother. 'Don't worry Daddy,' she turned to Kareem, giving him a quick hug 'it just looks like a snowman.'
*****
'Hello, Grandpa Angie,' Samara beamed, quickly coming over to the window, helping Angelo up 'what are you doing over there?'

'Hello Gramps,' Benjamin grinned, flopping down on one of the overly comfy seats.

'Yes, hello,' Angelo muttered 'I was just watching the snow.'

'Yes, the snow – looks fantastic doesn't it. It's bad on the roads though, wasn't it Ben?'

'Yes, awful.'

'I was just watching all the people – it brought back some memories. Did I ever tell you about the time Hayward and I were in the field and –'

'Yes, Grandpa, you did. Now, we have some news!' Samara sat up, moving closer to Angelo 'it's really exciting.'

'Oh,' Angelo dragged up an excited grin 'what is it Mara?'

Samara smiled, placing a hand on her stomach 'you're going to be a great granddad! I'm having a baby.'

'Yeah,' Benjamin leapt up 'so people better start watching out for dirty nappies behind the sofa.'

'Ben!' Samara hissed 'isn't it exciting, Grandpa, I'm having a baby!'

'Wonderful Mara,' Angelo nodded, a faintly sad smile catching on the corners of his mouth 'I hope I live to see the day.'

'Hazel,' Angelo stroked a hand across the little girl's forehead, before passing her back to his tired wife, laying dozily back on the bed 'she's beautiful, ain't she.'

'She is,' she smiled, taking the little bundle into her arms 'she's ours.'

'She is,' Angelo smiled but inside, an awful burning sensation clawed at his heart 'it's a shame my ol' lady won't ever know her.'

It's a shame she thinks I died all those years ago in the war.

'Guilt's good for no one, that's what you told me she said, Angelo. This is now, remember. She'll know one day.'
*****

'She's purty,' Angelo turned to Joe, then back to the girl folding serviettes.

'Which one?'

'That one?'

'Sure, she's pretty Angelo - pretty, get it right Angelo.'

'Should I talk to her?'

'Not yet Angelo, she'll think you're funny in the head.'

'Sure, I cukoo,' Angelo grinned.

'Come on,' Joe shook his head 'let's go.'

'Hey,' the girl shouted as they reached the door 'you? You from America?'

'Oh sures,' Angelo smiled, casting a sideways glance at Joe 'Yes I am.'

****

'Ain't no good, Angie, ain't no good.'

'What ain't?'
'Everything. Nothing good at all no more – never was really. We work, we fight, we kill an' do dumb stuff. No one's happy. Not us, not the animals, not the earth. There gonna be a war soon.'
'What you on? Ain't there jus' been one?'
'Oh sure, but people ain't get along. Why don't they jus' talk an' help? See, we can talk and sort it out. But it's all politics, not people. Politics ain't no good.'
'But it ain't no good without them neither, I think.'
'No, nothing's good. Jus' one big circle. People, I love people, but we just ain't no good at this life thing.'
*****

'Ah well. Still ain't you jus' wann run sometime. Jus' run and not stop.'
'Alla time.'
And so Angelo couldn't help it. He felt mad and crazy and maybe Hays did too. So they ran, Hays chasing him through field in the dying light as the mules watched ideally, amused almost as they stooped down to chew on the same piece of straw again.

****
He pounded down the lane, his chest tight and his throat sore. Dust rose and stung his eyes, but he didn't dare waste a moment blinking. This night was all he had. Tomorrow they would come for him in the name of their God and a culture they lost long ago by their own hand.
They would find him now. They would string him up. But somewhere, deep within his in mind, in a place he didn't understand yet, he knew he was more than that. His heart beat against his chest and no matter how much it hurt he knew this was the path he had to follow.
He'd said his goodbyes and they told him to go – go into the night. He'd slunk into a shadow, unseen because they wouldn't find him tomorrow. He wouldn't hang from a tree, life would still pump through his veins; it had every right to.
At the crossroads into no-man's land, Angelo paused and looked back at the fleeting landscape of what had once been home. The smoke was rising from a distant field where a burning cross emitted a terrible light. Angelo closed his eyes, whispered quietly to his God and wondered whether the men in white knew they were actually pleasing the Devil.
****
'Don't you go eatin' no more of that - ain't yours, so give it over.' The tall lad stood over him, a droplet of sweat dribbling across his tanned forehead.

'It ain't yours neither,' Angelo shook his head, holding the loaf close 'I jus' found it an' I'm hungry.'

'So am I, now give it over, nigga.'

'No.' Angelo stood, loaf still clasped tightly between his fingers 'I ain't gonna.'

'Oh right, I sees, you wanna punch in the jaw.'

'Oh no, I ain't want...'

'Give it then.'

'No, I...'

The fist swung round, slamming into his teeth, knocking them backwards into his gums. Blood dripped slowly down Angelo's chin.

'OI!' Theodore's shout came from behind the door and the white boy panicked, fleeing into the distance. 'Angelo, whatta hell's goin' on?'

'You made a white boy run,' he grinned, a bloody gappy grin.

'I what - Angelo, you okay?'

'Yeah Tor, look, I still got the bread!'
****

The boy watched, hands pressed against the mucky glass.

'I can't see a thing through here mam,' he bellowed.

'You will,' his mother called from the kitchen 'one day you will, Angie.'