The intensity in his gaze, however, did not, and it seemed like an age passed until he spoke. “You think I don’t like you?”
I pushed my hair behind my ear and broke eye contact for a fleeting second. “It’s not hard to figure out. You’re rude to me more times than you are kind, and you dismiss me more often than you entertain me. And that’s fine, really. If we all liked everybody, this would be a horribly boring world, but I just want you to know that my wanting to help you isn’t contingent on you liking me or being a member of my father’s staff. I genuinely would like to help you, if you’d let me.”
Miles’ throat bobbed. “He lives at number four. I would appreciate if someone could check on him and that bloody menace of a cat of his.”
I held his gaze and forced a small smile. “No problem.” I turned to my phone and opened my text thread with Adelaide and Evangeline. I didn’t have a whole bunch of signal, something I was reminded of as another bout of hailstones smashed against the windows as if they were trying to break in, but it was enough to send a quick text or two.
ME: I need a favour.
ADDY: I am not getting a spider out of your bathtub again. Not in this weather.
EVA: What she said.
ME: Funny. I’m flooded in with Miles.
EVA: I’d like to be flooded in with Miles.
ADDY: EVANGELINE
ADDY: Same, though, let’s be honest.
ME: I’m being serious.
EVA: Then why are you texting us and not getting busy with him?
ME: I don’t want to sleep with him.
Lies.
Mostly.
EVA: You’re a stronger woman than I. If I wrote down the things I’d do to that man, I’d be arrested for solicitation.
ADDY: I think it’s just called whoring yourself out these days.
This was why we weren’t allowed to work on projects together in school.
Our tangents had a tangent.
ME: Oh, my gosh. Can we focus, please?
ADDY: Yes. What do you need? Condoms? We’re a bit far away from that.
Clearly, I’d made a grave mistake here.
ME: His grandfather is at 4 Bramble Lane with his cat. He needs a hip replacement and Miles is really worried about him. Are you flooded up there or could your dad drive down there to check on him?
I stared at my phone waiting for the response, and I was all too aware of Miles’ eyes on me, too.
ADDY: On our way. Give us 20.
I looked over at Miles. “They’re on their way. Give them twenty minutes and they’ll let me know.”
He nodded, but his attention was fleeting. Instead of turning back to the fire like I’d expected, he picked up the cricket book he’d selected from the shelves earlier. In all honesty, I was grateful for that. If he was reading, it meant I didn’t have to talk to him.
That didn’t mean the twenty minutes or so didn’t drag. They did. Like a sad squirrel’s tail. Right along the floor getting all dusty and stuff.
When my phone pinged, Miles paused, looking up from his book. I pretended not to notice his intense gaze on me as I reached for my phone and unlocked it so I could read the text from Adelaide.
ADDY: Stopped by. He’s ok but no power or hot water, we’ve bundled him and his demon cat into Dad’s Land Rover and brought him to the hotel. We have the generator, so he’ll be fine here until the storm passes.
Of course. I’d forgotten about their generator. It was a petrol one and lived in one of the old stables in case of an emergency—I guess tonight counted as an emergency. I was seconds away from enquiring about the flooding when Eva’s text came through to the chat.
EVA: No flooding to the houses, either. Roads are a little dicey but it’s mostly downed trees and branches. We’ll come out when Mother Nature is over her bitch fit to clear it.
ME: Thank you. Do you have signal at the hotel?
EVA: Not a lot, why?
ME: Can you call me so Miles can speak to his grandpa?
ADDY: We can try, but he’s fine. We’ll make sure he’s ok. Also took Bertha Hawthorne and Clive Chambers just in case.
ADDY: Tell miles we’re good, losing signal, ttyl
Her quick switch from perfect grammar to some kind of internet talk threw me for a second before I understood what she was trying to tell me.
Right.
“The flooding hasn’t reached Bramble Lane so he and your house are fine, but there’s no power or hot water,” I said, setting down my phone. “They’ve taken him, the cat, and a couple of neighbours to the hotel. They have a generator there for emergencies so he’ll be able to keep warm at the very least.”
Miles’ shoulders dropped, and I almost saw the stress leave his body as my words sank in.
His grandfather was safe. He was okay. He was dry.
The demon cat could eat.
“Thank you.” Miles cleared his throat. “I appreciate you doing that. Your friends, too. They didn’t have to.”
“No, they didn’t, but they did anyway. Because that’s what we do out here in the country.” I pushed the blanket from my legs and scooted to the edge of the sofa. “I’m not sure how you did things where you used to live, or if you had a community like we do, but we don’t leave anyone out in the cold. If someone needs help, they get help, whether it’s a cup of sugar or evacuation from a storm.” I stood, tentatively putting weight on my sore ankle. “We look after our own out here, Miles. No matter who they are, and whether the people we’re helping like us or not.”
I held his gaze for a moment longer before I broke the contact and limped out of the library to head to the nearest room with a toilet.
And I hoped immensely that maybe, just maybe, he might have learnt a little lesson this evening.
***
Due to the lack of power, we’d spent much of our evening lugging mattresses into the library. While the sofas were comfortable to sit on, they weren’t the best for sleeping, and Miles was far too tall to sleep on them at any rate.
I’d had to reluctantly let him into my bedroom when it became glaringly obvious that I was only good for carrying pillows—not even duvets, lest I fall over them and hurt myself again.
I was, apparently, a little liability.
I wholeheartedly agreed with his observation there, for what it was worth.
We’d spent the evening sharing fire duties, although admittedly Miles had gotten up more times than me. It wasn’t for lack of trying, more a lack of him letting me do it. I liked to think it was because of my little pep talk earlier.
I liked to think a lot of things that weren’t true, okay?
Like that it would stop raining soon.
Unfortunately, the forecast showed that would not happen. The rain was set to stay for at least another twenty-four hours, which meant this forced proximity with Miles wasn’t going to end anytime soon.