Raising her head into the gloom, she moved the light around and was suddenly met with a tiny pair of round black eyes. The animal froze in terror, then performed a sudden leap to the left, whisking what looked like an enormous feather duster behind it. Then all at once, it was as if the movement had provoked some sort of rodent riot, as several other small animals began darting around, their shadows looming large in the light from the torch. The tiny animals jumped and scratched and skittered and panicked around, and a fluffy tail whipped the side of Lily’s ear as one creature passed.
As the soft hair of the tail touched her, Lily let out a cry that was somewhere between a shout and a scream and drew her head sharply back through the opening, banging it for good measure and letting the wooden hatch fall back into place. The sudden movement caused the bedstead below her to wobble and she slipped and fell heavily onto the floor at Emily’s feet.
15
It was impossible to sleep.
Nothing was broken, they were fairly sure, but Lily ached from head to toe.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Emily had said. ‘I should have climbed up the fucking bedstead.’
‘No,’ Lily had replied. ‘Neither of us should have.’ Their eyes met briefly and they’d exchanged a smile. ‘But no harm done,’ she’d lied.
‘Today’s disaster is tomorrow’s brilliant anecdote,’ her friend had added, giving her a squeeze. ‘You’ll be dining out on this one for years.’
‘Well, in that case, thank you for your help.’ Lily had replied.
Then, after Emily had helped her back onto the unforgiving mattress, she’d disappeared to her room leaving Lily aching in the dark. The noise of rodents overhead seemed twenty times louder than it had before, and she pictured them, scurrying, their enormous tails flicking behind them; their black, beady eyes shining in the slivers of moonlight that shot in between the tiles.
Eventually, she fell into a light doze, but awoke each time she tried to turn. By seven, she gave up any hope of proper sleep. Instead, she dragged herself up from the floor, slipped on her dressing gown and went to wake Emily, who’d apparently now found the ability to sleep no matter how many poltergeists or rats were making merry above her head. Lily gave her prone figure a poke with her slippered foot.
‘Eh?’ Emily said, blinking blearily.
‘Come on,’ Lily replied. ‘We’re getting out of here.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Just after seven, but I’ve been up since, well, you know.’
‘Ouch, how are you feeling?’ Emily grimaced.
‘I’ve been better.’
‘I feel completely responsible.’
‘Good!’ Lily said, with a wry smile. ‘You are! But… look, it doesn’t matter. I’ve decided: why don’t we spend a couple of nights on a decent bed, and get someone to deal with the squirrel things before we come back? Might see if I can’t pick up a couple of proper mattresses before we do too – those air things are bad enough when you haven’t fallen from height, but believe me when your body is one big bruise, they are seriously uncomfortable.’
‘Again, really sorry,’ said Emily, patting Lily’s leg from her prone position. ‘But decent beds? Sounds lovely. Where were you thinking? There was a hotel I saw in Eymoutiers when we drove through that looked relatively habitable…’
‘I thought we’d go to La Petite Maison.’
‘Of course! Chloé’s place. Do you think she’ll have rooms?’
‘Hopefully.’
Leaving her friend to gather an overnight bag and stick on some clothes, Lily went down to the kitchen and filled the kettle. Then she drew out her mobile phone and, after checking the time – half past seven: Chloé served breakfast from seven, so surely it was OK to call? – she went to dial Chloé’s number.
Before she did, she noticed a missed call from late last night. It was from her old home number and the sight of it there, still displaying as ‘Home’ on her screen, made her heart flip. She clicked quickly on the icon for her answerphone and listened as the automated voice told her she had one new message. Then she heard Ben’s voice: ‘Look, Lily. I need to ask you one more time. Please come back home. I know you have this dream or whatever, but what you’re doing is crazy. We can buy a holiday place, maybe? Or travel a bit more if you like – to all sorts of places. But you need to come home. I miss you. Tyler misses you. Surely that should mean something?’