Anastasia was only going at a moderate speed, but it seemed as if Sandy couldn’t keep up with her no matter how fast she ran.  She wasn’t even being careful about staying on the branch anymore.  She just didn’t want Anastasia to disappear.

She stumbled on another icy patch.  She didn’t fall over this time, just fell back some more.  Anastasia went on ahead. 

“You’re freezing!” yelled Sandy.

Anastasia turned around.  “It was your idea to climb up this thing in the first place!”

“I didn’t think we’d end up in the dark!  I didn’t think there’d be all that ice and thorns!”

“It’ll be worth it!”  Anastasia had turned all the way around now.  From the sound of her voice, Sandy almost believed she was smiling.  “If we get to the end, and it takes us somewhere better, then it’s worth a few risks, right?  If there’s even the slightest chance…”

And Sandy couldn’t tell her it wasn’t.  If she had to choose between going home to that guy from the carol concert and carrying on to the end of the branch, she knew what she’d pick.  Even if that might mean falling off, or freezing to death, or being cut and poisoned by the thorns.  Sandy couldn’t convince her to stop feeling like that, and she couldn’t lose her temper and walk back on her own.  Her only hope was to think of something else she could offer.

It was something about the thorns that made her think of it.  “What if we go back, and it turns out that a whole ten years have gone by while we’ve been up here?”

Anastasia stared at her.  Sandy didn’t need to see her face to know that; she could just tell.

“Ten years.  With everyone thinking we died or disappeared.  And when we get back, everything would be different.”  She swallowed.  “Your mum and her boyfriend will have split up by then.  Maybe even moved away.  You’d never have to see him again.”

Anastasia took a step towards her.  “And what makes you think that’s what happened?”

“I don’t think that’s what happened.  I think I can do it.  I think I can move us ten years forward in time.”  Sandy looked down.  Nothing but darkness.  Nothing to suggest that the world below them wasn’t completely as they’d left it.  But Sandy had a feeling.  At the very least, she could try.  “I’ve… done things before.  Much smaller things, but I could stretch myself.”  She looked back at Anastasia.  “Maybe the plant could help.  The fact that it belongs to me.  Or even…”  Sandy remembered how she’d felt earlier, walking through the cool, quiet house.  “Well, Christmas is a strange time, right?  It always feels different.  Maybe you can do things on Christmas that you can’t usually.”

Anastasia laughed.  She’d moved a bit closer.  “How many hours have we been up here?  It’s probably Boxing Day already.”

“Or, it might be a completely different Christmas.  Christmas ten years from now.”  Sandy was starting to hope a bit.  She could afford to be firm.   “Look, the point is, I really need you to be back on the ground.  Not bleeding and shivering and not bothering to watch where you step.  I need you to be safe.”

“And you’d move us ten years in the future to get that?  What about your family?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“But you’d do that?  Just to get me back on the ground?”

Sandy nodded, then realised that Anastasia might not have seen her do it.  “Yeah.  I would.”

There was nothing to see or hear.  They were caught in a pitch-black sheet of ice, hanging in the air.  But then Anastasia came up and put her hands on Sandy’s shoulders.  “Well, everything you’ve just said sounds completely nuts,” she told her, “But if you really want me to come down that badly, then I’ll come down.”

They turned around.  There were miles of branch ahead of them, miles of possible thorns and ice patches, but they’d been through it once before.  They’d be fine.  “You know,” said Anastasia, “If it really has been ten years by the time we get back, then Mrs Ingram will definitely have retired.”

“Yeah.”  Sandy smiled into the darkness.  “There’ll be flying rocket cars and everything.”

(To be concluded)