“The shed's perfect for Bartimaeus and me,” Lucy said at the same time.
“Shed only. For all of you. Take it or leave it.” The woman narrowed her lips in disapproval.
“Out of the question—”
“We'll take it,” Lucy said with determination. “Bartimaeus needs to get dry before he catches a cold.”
The woman sniffed. “Go on then. It’s behind the house.”
“My name is Henry, not Bartimaeus,” Henry told her as they trudged to the shed.
She held up the puppy. “Bartimaeus, meet Henry, unlikely knight in shining armour.”
“A male name for a female puppy?”
“She needs all the help she can get in this sad world. A strong, male name is the least thing I can give this poor, unfortunate pup,” Lucy lectured. “You should remember that when you ever have to name your own children.”
“Lord help me,” Henry muttered as he pushed the shed’s door open.
The shed was an old,rustic hut that had no other function than to house an occasional horse or other animal. It had a fireplace, a rickety table with two chairs and fresh hay piled in a corner. Bartimaeus sniffed around, made a puddle behind an old footstool, then curled up in one corner and promptly fell asleep.
“Poor little mite.” Lucy petted Bartimaeus who flicked her ears in her sleep.
The woman followed them into the hut.
“You can make a fire in the fireplace but don't burn down the entire hut,” she instructed them. “There are blankets here. Clothes. They’re old but clean.” She dropped a bundle of clothes and blankets on the table, together with a tallow candle, and left again.
Lucy felt the dampness of her clothes creep into her bones, and her teeth clattered. She grabbed one of the woollen blankets and wrapped it around herself. She ought to get out of her wet clothes, but that was impossible with Henry in the same room.
“Y-y-you make the f-f-fire.”
Henry knelt in front of the fireplace, and in no time a fire blazed. Its warmth spread through the little room quickly, dipping the room in a cosy orange light. Frowning, he stuck the poker into the fireplace to shift a piece of log around.
The woman returned with a tray of food, a jar of warm milk and two mugs. “Milk, bread, apples and cheese. Tomorrow you are gone at dawn.”
“God bless you,” Lucy told her. The woman nodded and left. “She is grumpy, but she has a good heart,” she told Henry, who grunted yet again in agreement. “Are you in a temper?” Lucy tilted her head to one side, noting the thunderous frown on his forehead. “What happened was unfortunate, but you have to see the silver lining in this situation. Look, we have dry blankets, a fire, and food! Besides the very fact we’re in the middle of a thrilling adventure. I wonder what it is like to sleep on that hay. Dear me, how it is raining outside. Did you see the lightning flash? Now, if you stand over there in that corner and look out of the window, I can pretend you are not in the room and change into these dry clothes.”
Henry snapped out of his moodiness. “I will go over to the house and convince the woman to give you a proper room.” Before Lucy could reply, he grabbed his pile of clothes and rushed outside.
Lucy seized the moment to peel off her wet clothes, which were plastered to her skin. She dried herself and slipped into the dress the woman had given her. It was a coarse, brown linen that hung off her slender frame like a sack.
She curtsied. “What do you say, Bartimaeus? Now I look like a proper farmer's wife.”
Bartimaeus replied with a gentle snore.
Henry returnedwith a black scowl on his face. He’d changed out of his wet clothes as well and looked odd in linen shirt and trousers that were too short for him. Lucy grinned.
“They only have one bedroom and her bedridden husband needs the bed. The man looked more dead than alive. It would have been irresponsible to make him give it up.”
“Oh, poor man. It really can't be helped, can it? I must say, I rather like this adventure. It's better than being held up by highwaymen.” She twirled.
Henry threw her an irritated look. “You appear uncommonly happy to be stranded here.”
“I tend to be a happy person, Mr Gardener,” Lucy informed him. Then her stomach growled. “Hurry, or else there won't be anything left for you. I don't think I’ve ever tasted anything so divine as this simple piece of bread and this cheese.” She bit with gusto into a slice of bread.
Henry's stomach grumbled. He sat down on a rickety stool across from her and picked up a slice of cheese.
The fire flickered, and a warm cosiness spread throughout the little room. Lucy had never felt as content as this. What an adventure she was having! This was almost better than at the Seminary. Lucy felt a pang. No, nothing was better than the Seminary. But this was getting close. She felt something which she'd only ever felt at Miss Hilversham's: she felt safe. Safe with him.
