Snowflakes danced and swirled against the pane, so dense it was as if the house were surrounded by a thick moving blanket. Thunder shook the house, which made Phoebe jump, but Carmen just hugged her closer with the duvet around them both. It was oddly comforting to feel the little warm body close to her, willingly coming in for a cuddle.

The silence was unusual; they were in the middle of a city, just off a busy thoroughfare. Normally there were ambulances screaming, trash lorries beeping as they backed up, taxis honking, and late-night party groups laughing and squealing.

Now, here it was as if they were the only people in the universe as the silent, huge flakes of snow danced and whirled in their intricate patterns, so common and so very, very extraordinary.

“Oh!” said Phoebe.

Some footsteps skittered along the flagstones behind them. As soon as Jack realized they had a duvet with them, he nodded and dashed back upstairs quietly, coming down with his own, covered in tasteful embroidered wooden cars, rather than the Hibernian Football Club logos his little heart desired above all else.

Silently, he moved next to Phoebe, and instead of pushing and shoving him with her sharp elbows like she normally would, she budged over to make space for him to press his elbows on the cold windowsill and stare up into the sky, so dizzy with flakes you couldn’t tell if you were looking up or down; it made your brain turn somersaults.

Jack, normally such a jumping bean, was stock-still in awe at it, pointing occasionally with Phoebe as the shed became completely engulfed, or a flash of lightning suddenly showed them their faces reflected in the window glass and they all jumped. Then, to Carmen’s immense relief, Phoebe started to laugh when they realized they’d been scared by their own faces.

There was another step behind them, and Carmen glanced behind her. Pippa was there too, about to announce herself and presumably tell everyone to get back to bed or she’d tell Mummy. Carmen, however, raised her finger to her mouth, then beckoned her forward; there was enough space between the two duvets for her to snuggle between her siblings, and to Carmen’s surprise she managed to do so with the minimum of fuss.

The silence, the warmth of the small bodies, the astonishing display of the snow—all affected Carmen deeply as they looked out, awestruck, into the garden, transformed into a mysterious grotto of wonder.

Finally, Jack’s voice piped up. “Can we go out and play in it?”

“At five o’clock in the morning in your pajamas?” said Carmen. “Your mother would have my guts for garters.”

There was general disappointment.

“You can if you’re ready before school later, though,” said Carmen. “Get your wellies out . . . Actually,” she added, as there came another boom, “I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if they canceled school.”