Bursting outside, she cleared the verandah and didn’t stop until she was a safe distance from the house. Only then, with her heart in her throat, did she turn back to survey the damage.
From this vantage point, nothing looked amiss. The roof still appeared intact, though a whole lot of dust was currently wafting from the front door. God, if she’d waited a second longer, she would’ve been in serious trouble.
What on earth had just happened? And, more importantly, what did she do now?
Assess the damage!
She rounded the side of the house and headed straight for the kitchen window. Which, she discovered, was far too high for her to peer through. Retrieving a few old crates from the garden shed, she piled them on top of each other and leaned the stack against the side of the house. Ignoring how precariously the crates were balanced, she climbed high enough to grab the window ledge and hoist herself up another inch.
The inside of the window was caked in dust again, as if she’d never cleaned it, but there was no mistaking the utter chaos and destruction inside. Right above where she’d been standing was a gaping black hole. Ceiling plaster hung down, an electrical cord dangled and insulation covered every surface—kitchen counter, floor, walls. She couldn’t even make out where the ladder stood or if the roof beams were still where they were meant to be.
Crap. Not even Bunnings could help her now.
Frustrated, she turned from the window and the discouraging sight inside, forgetting she was perilously perched at the top of a very unstable mound of plastic. She flailed her arms, trying to regain her balance and—
Ooof.
Lying flat on her back, she struggled for breath, unable to do anything except look up at the sky.
She lay there, stunned and immobile, until finally,finally, she managed to suck in a blessed lungful of air. Hauling it in, her chest heaving, she rolled to the side for some relief, but the dirt and prickly weeds pressing against her face offered no comfort. She groaned. This was one shitty situation. What the hell was she going to do?
Needing to get up and get moving, she pressed her hands into the ground but immediately yelped in pain. Her right wrist throbbed angrily, but a quick body scan revealed no other injuries—a single, pathetic blessing in this otherwise catastrophic series of events.
Taking care to avoid any unnecessary use of her injured wrist, she got up off the ground and headed for the front yard.
As she watched the dust still billowing from inside the house, she chewed her lip and considered her options. With no idea whether the roof was in danger of collapsing altogether, she couldn’t very well head inside and start cleaning up. And maybe an invisible danger, like asbestos fibres, might now lurk in the mess that covered every nook and cranny of the house. No, going inside would be the most idiotic move she could make.
It dawned on her, then, that she couldn’t do this alone. She needed help from someone with experience. Someone who knew what they were talking about. Someone who could help her deal with this mess and tell her what her next steps should be.
Whipping out her phone—thank god she’d had it in her pocket when she bolted from the house—she used her good hand to bring up her browser, ready to search for local builders.
Then she remembered the conversation she’d had with Noah several weeks ago. He had experience working on old houses—he must know enough to point her in the right direction.
She’d have to ask Ellie for his number. And then she’d have to call him, because people didn’t ask for big, complicated favours like this via text.
She glanced at her phone. Maybe she should complete a few online enquiry forms first, just to see what the availability was like for some of these businesses. In case Noah couldn’t help her.
No!She shook the thought from her head—she was being ridiculous. She needed to suck it up and call him.
But the prospect of having to do so was already making her anxious. So anxious she felt nauseous.
Maybe Ellie wouldn’t mind doing it for her instead. She would, Beth was certain of it.
Sighing, she hung her head, annoyed at herself, then shoved her phone in her back pocket and stalked towards her rental car.
* * *
Beth found Ellie in the B&B’s foyer, tapping away at her phone.
‘Oh, hey! I was just about to message you.’ She greeted Beth with a flash of dimples, which disappeared almost immediately. ‘Jeez, are you okay? You look like you’ve had a rough day.’
Beth waved away her concern. ‘I’m fine. Are you going somewhere?’
Dressed in tight black jeans, boots and a suede jacket, Ellie looked like she was ready for a night out.
‘Yep.’ She held up her phone. ‘Which is why I was messaging. To see if you wanted to come to barefoot bowls.’ In a singsong voice, she added, ‘Second round of the season.’
Beth couldn’t help smiling. ‘You’re nothing if not persistent.’
