Frozen

It is snowing again; the heavy sort of snow that muffles sound and reduces visibility and feels as though you are walking in frozen cotton wool. My bad mood is worsening along with the weather. It was his idea to take a walk and I hadn't been able to come up with a reasonable excuse to refuse. I longed to stay warm by the fire but it seemed churlish not to agree to his suggestion. After all, he held out an olive branch by suggesting coming to the lakes, our lakes. We have bickered for days and unusually I am the one who is reluctant to make up. But the walk has been a disaster from the start. I am frozen, my feet are wet, I've lost all feeling in my hands despite the thick gloves and my chest hurts from breathing bitterly cold air.

'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones¦'

'Oh, shut up!' I yell. He doesn't go any further. He knows better than to carry on singing now but is still acting like a little boy, scuffing up clouds of white flakes with his feet and leaving tracks on the unspoiled surface. The heavy snowfall will cover those very quickly and soon there won't be any sign that we were here.

We came here a lot in the early days, often bringing a picnic and a rug. The lakes are beautiful at any time of year. In deep midwinter they look just as spectacular as they do in the spring or autumn. The fresh air and the wonderful scenery can make my heart sing but not today. Today my hormones are aggravating my terrible mood and he isn't helping either.

He seems to have forgotten that he has let me down again badly and that I haven't forgiven him. He acts as though there is nothing wrong between us and makes daft quips and childish jokes that only irritate me more. He promised me that he wouldn't gamble any more and now he's broken the promise and lost the money I'd put aside all summer for our winter fuel. His lies have destroyed my trust in him. Sometimes I think I'd be better on my own. But how do you break a bad habit?

'Hey Laura!'

I turn around to see what he wants and get a face full of snow. He is laughing. 'That's not funny, you idiot!' I shout but he is still laughing. My face stings and I am close to tears. 'That's bloody typical of you!' My anger is rising rapidly. He is still throwing snowballs at me while laughing even louder. I run towards him in a rage, all the anger and tension of the last few days has been released and I'm no longer in control.

I can't hear or see anything but his laughing face. He thinks we are playing but I'm not. I'm controlled by rage not reason and I want him to know the full force of my anger.

I clench my fists and take a wide swing at his face but he ducks out of the way. He laughs again. The miss and his stupid bloody laugh make me more determined to hit him and I swing again with all my strength. This time my fist connects with his cheek and he is surprised. He staggers back but I am following trying to repeat the blow again and again. I am beating on his chest with my full force.

I know I am screaming at him but cannot hear a thing. The world is red and silent.

He is moving backwards, trying to protect himself but the uneven ground is making his escape difficult. He stumbles over a rock and is on his hands and knees in the snow. I carry on attacking him with all the force my anger allows. He is standing again but has stopped laughing and is trying to catch my flailing arms. Another blow to his face and he stumbles back onto the frozen lake.

There is an ear-splitting crack as the ice breaks. We look at each other for a moment before he slips through the gap, disappearing silently below the surface. It is over in a second and I stare at the spot where he sank, expecting him to resurface. My anger is spent and I feel incredibly calm.

I wait but nothing happens. Then, slowly, th broken ice reforms a vague mosaic on the lake's surface.

I think the row is over now. It's time to go home. Time to get warm.