Day 3

Day 3. The cold is unabating. Feet and hands have turned blue. Oates, the blasted fool, his fingers blackened with frostbite asked if we wanted anything from the Brierley Village stores then left the house. His parting remarks “I am just going to get some fags and may be some time” chill us further to the bone than this blasted cold. We fear we may never see him again.