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Yeah.
It was never fine.
Neither was this.
“What the—” My hands were in corners, but they were opposite corners. They didn’t match up, and even as I slid my hand down the side to another corner, I somehow ended up at the same corner.
I was all twisted up.
I felt like Alice in Wonderland, except there was no Wonderland in a fitted sheet.
Just Hell.
There was only Hell.
“Help,” I whimpered. “I’m stuck.”
Miles, who had been observing me with thinly veiled amusement from the doorway, pushed off the doorframe and came over to me, slowly reaching out for the sheet. He untangled it from my hands and took it from me. He deftly moved his arms and undid the mess I’d made of the sheet. “You don’t do this often, do you?”
“Not often enough, evidently,” I muttered to myself. Why did this never happen when I was alone? Oh, right, because I folded my own sheets, and I folded fitted sheets like a normal person.
Not very well.
“Why don’t you go and get changed?” Miles asked, holding the sheet up. “You’re still soaking wet, and I don’t fancy you getting my bed wet.”
“Why would I get your bed wet?”
“You’ll be touching my sheets,” he said dryly.
Right.
Of course.
“Sure. Um, I’m just down the hall, but I’ll come back and show you downstairs. I guess you need to eat?”
“Unless I’ve suddenly become a vampire, food would be appreciated.”
I stared at him. “I was right. One of us might not make it through this storm.” On that note, I left the room and hobbled down the hall to my own. I was absolutely freezing, and I hadn’t realised just how wet my clothes actually were. My leggings were stuck to my legs, my socks were almost like the ones that had individual toe things, and somehow, even my t-shirt and jumper were wet.
I had no idea how that had happened.
I wasn’t going to get warm this way, so I decided to take a shower. It ended up being the quickest shower I’d ever taken, and when I was done, I dressed in a pair of clean, dry leggings, thick socks, and a long, knitted jumper. Drying my hair was far too much work, so I simply towel dried it and pulled it into a plait that hung over my shoulder and only dried my fringe.
If I didn’t, it would stick up everywhere, and I’d look like I’d stuck my finger in a plug socket.
I was feeling much warmer now, if still in pain. I hadn’t taken any painkillers or bandaged my ankle since I’d fallen nearly an hour ago, and I was severely regretting my life choices up until this point.
I hobbled back out into the hallway with my phone in my hand, pausing when it pinged.
AUNT CAT: Everything ok?
I leaned against the wall to take the weight off my ankle while I replied.
ME: Ok. Not a lot of signal. Roads flooding, Miles is stuck here w/me.
AUNT CAT: Why is he stuck with you?
ME: He didn’t get the msg to leave when I sent everyone home.
AUNT CAT: Ok.
AUNT CAT: Use protection.
ME: It’s not like that. I made up a spare room for him.
AUNT CAT: There are condoms in the bottom drawer of my bedside table.
Okay.
I wasn’t even replying to that.
One, I didn’t want to.
Two, why the hell did she have condoms in her bedroom?
Actually, do you know what? I didn’t want to know. That was a line of inquiry that was a very slippery slope, and one I happened to have absolutely no desire to slide on down, thank you kindly.
“Are you all right?”
I jolted at the sound of Miles’ voice. “Gosh, you scared me.”
“Sorry. I thought you knew I was here.”
“No, I was just—never mind.” I shook my head. “Nobody else needs those visuals.”
He quirked one eyebrow but didn’t ask. “Have you sorted your foot yet?”
“Between my heroic rescue of one hard-headed, stubborn gardener and a hot shower so I don’t lose my limbs to frostbite, no. Where does one find the time?”
“Funny.” He came over to me and offered me his arm. “Here. Let me help you. Do you know where a First Aid kit is? Or at least some painkillers?”
I winced as I pushed off the wall and accepted his offered arm. The lights flickered overhead, and I paused, looking up at them.
Great.
That was all we needed.
A power cut.
“There’s ibuprofen in the kitchen. Which, by the looks of it, we should get to pretty quickly before the power cuts out. There’s no telling when it’ll be back with the roads flooded.”
“Agreed.” Miles looked dubiously up at the lights as he helped me towards the stairs. “I don’t know why I thought you’d have torches on the walls like some kind of Tudor dungeon.”
“We do,” I replied, amused. “Mostly in the public area. It adds character, and people like it. It does also mean we have a very large stash of candles in one of the closets, so at least we won’t be in the dark if the power goes out.”
