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“Supplies.” She used the shelves to help her limp to the end, then she hopped to the sofa where she traversed it with the stability of a baby learning to walk.
Then she dropped herself down onto the sofa with the finesse of one.
“Supplies for what exactly?” I carried it over to her and set it on the table in front of her.
“Going to the ballet,” she replied dryly. “A storm. What else?”
“You… have a box of supplies for a storm?”
“Yes.” She looked up at me with her light brown eyes and spoke slowly. “I knew it was coming, so I was prepared.” She paused. “Not prepared enough for food, but I have everything else.”
Right.
Gabriella reached over and opened the box. “Long life candles. Two boxes of matches. Boiled and cooled bottled water.” She took things out one by one as she ran down her mental list. “Portable battery packs for a phone. Torches. Books. Cards. Flasks of hot water. And blankets.”
“You put books in a survival kit… in a library?”
“I made several.”
“You made several?”
“Yes.” She blinked up at me earnestly. “There’s one in my bedroom, two in bathrooms, one in the living room, and one in my car.”
“Why have you made so many? And why is one in your car?”
“The car one is in case I decided to leave and got stuck. A bit like you did,” she replied, striking a match and lighting one of the tall, thick candles. It instantly brightened the room, and I quickly pulled away the cardboard box before we had a real issue.
At least there was no shortage of water outside.
“And I made so many because I had no way of knowing where I’d be if the power went out.” Shrugging, she waved the match to extinguish it and set it on a metal tray that held a vase. “When I was thirteen, a tree fell and hit a power line killing it to the entire village and I was stuck in the attic.”
“Why on Earth were you in the attic?”
“I was hiding from my brother. He was terrorising me and couldn’t get up there.”
“Right. I don’t think I’ve ever met him.”
“You wouldn’t have. Last I knew he was on yacht off the coast of Mykonos with all his friends who are also getting everything handed to them merely because they were born male.”
I didn’t miss the hint of bitterness in her tone. I knew enough about the aristocracy to know that even though Gabriella was the eldest, dukedoms ran through the paternal line, meaning she could never inherit the estate or the titles. It had never seemed fair to me, especially when it was clear she adored Arrowwood Estate.
“Right,” I said, finally sitting down. “So the attic?”
“Oh, right. Of course. I was stuck up there for three hours because my brother refused to tell anyone where I was as payback. Mum finally found me when the dog started barking at the door. I only got through it because I’d found some old books, blankets, and some old tealight candles with matches in a trunk. Ever since then, I’ve prepared for a storm.”
“Smart. Do you always lose power?”
She nodded. “Almost always. There are so many trees and so many of them are old, and it really does only take one. Sometimes we lose power while the village keeps it or vice versa, but in a storm this bad, everyone’s lost it.”
I swallowed. “Do you know that for sure?”
“Yes. I texted a friend who lives in the village. They lost it thirty minutes before we did.”
Shit.
“Anyway,” Gabriella continued. “We should get all these candles lit, stoke the fire, and hunt down some food. I could probably heat soup over the fire if we’re desperate. Oh, bloody hell, I should have warmed soup into the flasks earlier,” she finished, picking up one of the stainless-steel flasks. “Oh, well. At least we can always have a cup of tea.”
Ah, of course. The unofficial motto of England.
“I’m pretty sure we won’t have to resort to heating soup over the fire,” I replied, doing my best to temper down my anxiety at the knowledge my grandfather was alone in the village without any power.
Thank God he was made of tougher stuff than most people and would probably be okay—as long as he didn’t flood.
With any luck, I’d get out of here by morning, even if I had to walk to his cottage.
***
“This is just a giant lunchable, you do realise that, don’t you?” I looked at the spread of food in front of us.
In the kitchen, she’d finally listened to me and sat down while I’d essentially turned the room upside down to find an acceptable dinner for us.
I hadn’t found one. Not one that didn’t need to be cooked, at least. Although I had located a bandage for Gabriella’s foot—not that she had any idea what one was doing in the cutlery drawer.
