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“What about cold? I can imagine this place gets freezing.”
“It does, but we have open fires and plenty of firewood and coal. Don’t worry.”
“You’re better equipped than I am. Whoever renovated my cottage before I moved in put an electric fire in.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Why would anyone do that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m planning on reverting it back to an open fire. Where’s the kitchen?”
“Just to the left, third door.”
We made it into the kitchen where I dropped down onto one stool at the island and pulled another around so I could prop my foot up on it.
“Where are the painkillers?”
“Do you see the fridge?”
He turned towards it. “I would be worried if we couldn’t.”
“Okay, usually I’m the queen of sarcasm, but I’m actually in a lot of pain right now, so can we put this off for like ten, fifteen minutes?”
Miles grimaced. “Of course. Sorry.” He stood in front of the fridge. “Where do I go from here?”
“Third drawer to your left. Second from the right of the sink.”
“Right.” He counted, shuffling left step by step until he was in front of the drawer. “This one?”
“Yes.”
He pulled it open and froze. “Gabriella, this is a mess.”
I sighed. “I know. Nobody but me throws away the empty boxes and those silly little paper inserts, so they just sort of build up in there until I inevitably get so frustrated that I clean it out.”
“Right. You do know that those ‘silly little paper inserts’ have dosage information and side effects on it, don’t you?”
“Yes, but the box has the dosage information, too, and there’s far less to read there. Does anyone actually read the inserts?”
“I do.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “You never know.”
“I don’t know what to say to that. You’re a real enigma.”
“I would take that as a compliment if I thought it was one.” He stared at the contents of the drawer. “Are you sure there’s ibuprofen in here?”
“I’m taking a wild guess,” I admitted. “You might have to dig for them.”
“Great. Now I’m a rabbit.” With a sigh, he got stuck in, occasionally stopping to throw empty boxes and the inserts on the counter. The lights flickered again, and we both stilled.
I peered up at the spotlights overhead. “We should probably cook.” I swung my leg off the stool and stood up. “Otherwise, we will be in trouble. I don’t know if the gas hob will work without any electricity.”
“I think it might, but you really need to sit down.”
“I can sit down after. It’s nothing serious.”
Miles looked down. “Is it swollen or is that just your llama socks?”
I followed his gaze. They were very fluffy, thick socks. “Either or,” I replied after a moment, then went to the fridge. Thankfully, Aunt Cat had been shopping before this storm had hit and it was full.
On the other hand, unfortunately, the fridge was full.
Which meant there were so many choices. Too many choices. And we didn’t have a lot of time, because the power could and probably would go any second.
“Oh, no. I don’t know what to cook.”
“Here. I found some aspirin.” Miles handed me a blister pack of aspirin. “Take these, and I’ll figure out some food.”
“We’re running out of time. The power will go.”
“Yes, but standing here arguing with me isn’t going to cook food any faster,” he replied. “Take the painkillers, and we might stand half a chance.”
I knew he was right. The problem was that I didn’t want him to be.
Begrudgingly, I poured a glass of water and popped two tablets out of the pack, then took them. Hopefully they would start working soon, and I’d be able to move around like a normal person instead of hobbling.
“Do you have spaghetti?”
“Tinned, or…?”
Miles actually fought a smile. “Have you ever made Bolognese with tinned spaghetti?”
“I can’t say I have,” I mused. “If there is, it’ll be in the pantry.” I turned towards the door that led to the pantry where all the non-perishables were stored and pulled it open.
“I could—”
“Nonsense. I can walk. I twisted my ankle; I didn’t cut off my foot.” And my socks had paw-shaped non-slip things on the bottoms, because I was an adult, and if I wanted to wear socks aimed at ten-year-olds then I bloody well would.
I hit the switch to turn on the light and hummed, looking around.
Well.
There was a lot of food in here.
“I might need some help after all,” I said, looking around at various tins and jars, some of which contained homemade jams, chutneys, and honey from the beehives on the estate. “There’s a lot of stuff in here, it’ll be quicker with us both.”
“I’ve found the pans, let me just boil this water.” There was a clink and a clunk followed by the tell-tale sign of one of the gas rings coming to life to heat the water. “All right, spaghetti.” Miles joined me in the pantry and looked around. “You could live in here.”
