No Persephone this evening, but I am served by someone called Felicity who has skin like glass and very delicate hands.
‘If you access the homepage on your television, you’ll find the menu for dinner this evening which you can order via your remote. Just allow about an hour for it to be delivered.’
They think of everything here. She also asks if I’d like my wood delivered and my urge to say,‘Doesn’t every woman?’ is overwhelming but I restrain myself, telling her I’ll manage. I don’t want to have to hang around fully dressed until it arrives, I need to slob out.
Three minutes later I realise that this was a big mistake. Between carrying my two bottles of white Zinfandel, a share bag of giant chocolate buttons, three bags of crisps and a pint of milk, my arms are less than capable of performing additional lumberjack duties. I make it a further ten steps before I need to stop for a rest.
‘They have delivery vans for that sort of thing!’ I hear Will yell. Why is he always just behind me, yelling crap?
‘I’m fine,’ I reply, picking everything up like I’m competing inBritain’s Strongest Man. ‘It’s not far…’ I begin waddling down the road but again, my weak arms fail me.
‘Look, give me two seconds,’ he insists. ‘I’m going to grab some orange juice and then I’ll help you.’
I want to martyr on, but my hands are already stinging from the weight of the bags digging into my palms. I nod and accept defeat, dropping everything where I stand. He returns quickly as promised and lifts the wood and wine bag with ease.
‘Planning a big night?’ he asks, peering in. ‘You should leave room for dinner… unless chocolate and wineisdinner?’
‘Would that be so terrible?’
‘Not even a little bit,’ he replies, ‘but it’d be a shame to miss a free meal. I hear the lamb Wellington is good.’
‘I think I just want to lock the door and not have to see another human until morning. Thanks for the help.’ I unlock my door and he drops the bags in the small entrance hallway, obviously taking the hint that I want to be left alone.
‘No worries, Nora. Have a good night! See you tomorrow.’
‘Sure will,’ I reply. ‘Have a good one.’
I close the door behind me and lock up for the night, already looking forward to a long, hot shower and a quiet night. But first: the fire.
CHAPTER15
By quarter past ten, I’m restless. I thought some wine might throw me into a mini coma until morning, but it seems to be having the opposite effect. I’m not tired at all, just tipsy.
I spoke to Charlie earlier and she’s fine, telling me that she’s making fruit salad in Home Economics on Monday. I panic slightly that she’ll now think she’s proficient in complex knife work and remind her to be careful like the overprotective nightmare I am. One day she’ll sigh so hard at me, she’ll pass out.
The fire is burning nicely, every crackle making me feel like I’m totally owning this wilderness shit. If I didn’t have access to food via my television, running water and a hot tub, I’d practically be Bear Grylls.
The hot tub. I think I’m just tipsy enough to attempt it again. Mothers lift cars off their offspring, I’m pretty sure I can lift the lid off a goddamn fancy paddling pool.
I pull back the living room curtains and peer through the glass, but it’s so dark outside, I struggle to see anything but my own reflection. I press every light switch near the window until I find the one that illuminates the deck. Bingo! Behold the outdoor bath.
Sliding open the doors, I step outside, marvelling once again at the stillness of the night and approach the large square box with the heavy brown lid. I can do this. I will gain access to chemically treated, bubbly water if it kills me.But pleasedon’t kill me, I think.I don’t want to end up in the Darwin Awards hall of fame.
I grab the left-hand corner and pull it upwards. It creaks and moves with me but the other corner five feet away isn’t budging. I release and crouch down, hoping to carefully examine the lever and find a button so it’ll retract like a Transformer, but no such button exists. Annoyingly, I can hear Will’s hot tub whirring away, taunting me. I try again in frustration, but to no avail, slipping slightly on the frosty decking.
‘Oh, frickin’ hell,’ I exclaim.
‘You alright over there?’
‘I’m fine, Will.’
No reply. I turn and go back inside, wondering if I’ve maybe missed a manual or some helpful hint in the welcome pack. Surely not everyone who uses the hot tubs has upper body strength. I overheard one of the guests commenting on how lovely the hot tub was and she looked like a strong gust of wind would end her. I go to the kitchen table and begin searching through the literature I’d previously ignored. Oh, they have a red squirrel sanctuary nearby. Cute! Maybe I could drive—
Thud.
Click
Whirr.
