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On my way.
Amelia was tempted to peek out of the window but didn’t want to risk it in case they saw her. Strange noises in the night didn’t really feature in her marketing plan for this place. Could it be haunted? Though did shepherd’s huts even have ghosts? She wondered if she had pulled the latch properly on the bathroom window. She thought her heart was about to explode with worry as she weighed up her options once again. The window was tiny and it was therefore highly unlikely anyone or anything could squeeze through. Unless they were rabbit-sized.
Her imagination raced as she sat there looking at shapes in the dark. Realising everything had gone quiet outside, she knelt forward on the bed and tried to look out the side of the curtain. She screamed. A face stared in.
Amelia didn’t know who was more scared, Edie or her. They looked at each other and Amelia moved off the bed. When she opened the door, Edie remained at the window.
‘Edie,’ she said gently, noticing she wore just her pyjamas. Amelia put her hand on Edie’s arm. The woman turned but stared straight through her. ‘Are you okay, Edie?’ Edie remained rooted to the spot and Amelia looked down to see her bare, muddy feet. She ran back inside to grab a jacket to slip round the woman’s shoulders. The best thing was to try to get her back safely to the house and into her bed.
She turned Edie in the direction of the steps and carefully helped her down. Then she tried to keep her distance as much as possible as Edie walked slowly back across the grass and towards the house. Amelia shivered, glad she had pulled on a hoody over her own pyjamas.
Just then she heard a car crunch over the gravel. Fergus. She hoped his arrival wouldn’t startle Edie. The door slammed and the torchlight flashed around the corner of the house. Fortunately, he dipped the beam when he saw them and ran over.
‘She’s sleepwalking?’
‘Yes,’ whispered Amelia.
‘I thought this had all stopped. You know to leave her to get back into her bed?’
She nodded and the pair followed behind and through the front door. Amelia jumped when she felt something brush against her legs. Molly. Edie wiped her grubby feet on the front mat and started climbing the stairs. Molly scampered up beside her.
‘I need to go and put some warm socks on her at the very least.’
Fergus nodded and said he would wait downstairs.
Amelia made sure Edie got into bed and then Molly jumped up and curled in a ball next to her. Amelia opened a drawer, hoping she wouldn’t need to root around looking for socks. Beginner’s luck. She immediately found a pair of thick, fleecy socks and quietly slipped her hands under the duvet, managing to put them on Edie’s feet. Molly opened one eye curiously and thumped her tail a few times. Amelia tucked Edie in and pulled the blanket from the end of the bed up and over her.
‘Is she okay?’ asked Fergus.
‘Sound asleep,’ said Amelia, self-conscious that she stood there with her pyjamas on and bed-head hair. She didn’t even want to begin to think what she must look like. ‘Thanks for coming. I got a fright when I thought someone was trying to break into the hut.’
‘I’m not surprised.’ He raked his fingers through his hair. ‘You’re cold,’ he said, noticing her shiver.
‘A bit.’ She pulled the hoody tighter around her shoulders and stifled a yawn.
‘Come on. Let’s get you back to your own bed now.’
‘Will she be okay though?’
‘Yes, she should sleep now and hopefully not move.’
‘Has she done this before?’
He frowned, clearly thinking about what to say. ‘Yes, she has mentioned to me before that she used to be a sleepwalker. I had a spell of insomnia and that’s why it came up in conversation. Though I didn’t realise she had started again . . . there must be something on her mind.’
‘She hasn’t said anything to me,’ said Amelia.
He shrugged. ‘She wouldn’t. She plays her cards close to her chest. Come on, she’ll be okay now and you can check in on her again in the morning.’
Amelia was grateful Fergus insisted on chumming her back to the cabin. She shivered as she walked up the steps.
‘Let me come in and make you a cup of tea.’
She didn’t argue. She was frozen. She kicked off her shoes and reached under the bed for her own warm socks. Meanwhile Fergus filled the kettle.
‘Get back into bed. I’ll make it for you.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, climbing into the bed, trying desperately to warm up. Fergus handed her the tea and she took a sip. He brought another mug over and pulled out one of the stools from the bar.
