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Tim shook his head wearily. ‘One day, I will tell them what really goes on in this relationship.’
Squeezy only laughed. ‘Then, Matey, I’d have to kill you, and eat the evidence.’
They all ended up trooping up the broad stairs which they discovered halfway down the left-hand corridor off the main hallway. There was some faint light coming through a huge window at the top of the stairs where they exited onto the long upper corridor, but other than that the house was dark and none of the light switches appeared to work, although they were glad to see the place actually had them. Using their phone torch apps they found four bedrooms leading off the long hallway, all large and all empty, as they had expected.
Yawning, they divided up. Ben and Squeezy ran back down to grab sleeping bags and roll mats and dog beds, and gradually the place settled around them.
Aleksey lay in the moonlight flooding in from a bare window, head on folded arms.
‘You okay?’ Ben’s hand came out of the blue shadows and rested lightly on the inside of one forearm.
Aleksey grunted a reply then turned on his side, head propped on his hand. ‘I was tired, but now I cannot sleep.’
‘Yeah, me neither. I wanna go see the lighthouse.’
Aleksey snorted. ‘You would fall off the cliff in the dark, and I would have to perform a spectacular and death-defying rescue.’
‘Or we’d spot wreckers using it to lure ships onto those rocks. Oh! I know! Lepers wading out of the sea in deep fog.’
Aleksey frowned, although he was aware Ben probably couldn’t see this. ‘Lepers? Why?’
Ben chuckled slyly. ‘It’s a book.’
‘Hmm. In that case, it doesn’t sound a very good one.’ He returned to lying on his back. ‘This is going to be a long—’
* * *
Chapter Thirty-One
Aleksey woke to find himself lying in a beam of sunshine with the sound of a buffeting wind whipping trees and the softer noise of dogs snoring at his feet. Ben’s sleeping bag was empty. He had slept the entire night. He wondered if at sometime during those dark hours his leg had begun to ache and been about to wake him, but had then had a discussion with his back and decidedhuh, I’m actually not that bad. He wasn’t sure he could stand up. He made a mental note to put beds and mattresses top of his list of things to buy.
When Ben came up with a mug of tea for him and a packet of chocolate biscuits, apparently for breakfast, which was just fine as far as Aleksey was concerned, he was well into this list. He had a heading—things to buy—and many, many items already planned and positioned. Ben, he guessed, were he to be consulted on this, might be surprised at the things he was choosing. Ben might assume that he would fill the house with exquisite fabrics and expensive furniture, a state of the art kitchen, even a gym and hot tub… In other words, Ben might expect him to recreate their beautiful home on the moors. But Aleksey had different ideas for this art deco masterpiece. He wanted the place to talk to him, to tell him what was right and what was not.
He decided as he watched Ben dressing that it was probably better not to mention that last thought and just buy anything they could actually sleep comfortably on. That, he knew, would also be top of Ben’s list.
‘We found the bathroom. No hot water, but the bog works.’
‘Delightful.’
‘Come on! I want to go explore.’
‘And I’m stopping you?’
Ben gave him a look that warmed his heart more than any of the pleasant musings he’d been enjoying since he woke: Ben didn’t want to do anything without him.
When Aleksey finally stepped outside with the other five, he got why it had seemed noisy. The storm that Squeezy had predicted had arrived. It was still relatively warm and sheltered by the house, but as soon he walked around to the sunken garden, he could feel the strength of the gusts.
He’d found a rack of keys hanging in the kitchen which they’d discovered at the end of the hallway with the stairs. This room was pretty rough and ready, with an iron range and wooden cabinets. An original porcelain butler’s sink still had a hand pump for water, which when levered cautiously up and down actually worked. The water that flowed from its spout was ice cold and crystal clear.
The effect of timelessness was slightly ruined by a modern fridge, but as that wasn’t currently on, given the absence of electricity, the kitchen remained pretty much in its original state. The keys, hanging on large purposeful brass hooks and neatly labelled, had been a real find. There was one named Boathouse, one for something termed The Pavilion, and one marked Kittiwake Cottage, which sounded promising.
They firstly wanted to get the boat inside out of the wind, all aware that it represented their only way off the island, and were glad they’d made this a priority when they reached the dock, for the boat was already straining its cleats from the lines attaching it. It was a different place to when they’d arrived the day before. Now sharp little waves whipped foamy spray over the pebbled beach, and they had to shout to make themselves heard.
Tim unlocked and opened the wide double doors; Aleksey went onboard to lower the mast, and Ben and Squeezy hauled the boat by hand into the darkness of the large shelter. There was a walkway around the berth and lots of old junk, as Ben termed it, lying around. Aleksey suspected the truncated timeframe for the evacuation of the property had meant a lot had been missed. There were a couple of wooden canoes with oars slotted into the rafters above their heads, some lifejackets in a box which appeared to have been salvaged from the Ark, and one or two boots, none of which matched. Tim found an oilskin diver’s bag, which contained a short harpoon spear along with a snorkel and goggles, all of which appeared relatively new.
Ben was tapping some big barrels labelled 2-Stroke Petrol in neat, faded handwriting, but they sounded empty. The tarps which had covered them were in relatively good condition.
Squeezy lifted down a shrimp net and immediately began trying to catch things in the water, and Aleksey was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one suddenly remembering the intense childhood excitement of being given a little conical net on a bamboo cane—the great sense of responsibility it bestowed: being a fisherman. Squeezy actually grinned at him without his usual gleeful malice, and he quirked his lip with amusement in response.
