Left alone with Grace in the small, chilly room, Caroline unpacked her nightie and washbag, and glanced nervously at the bed. ‘I’ll use the sink first, shall I?’
Grace headed out to the loo, while Caroline splashed her face and cleaned her teeth. Then she tiptoed down the freezing cold passage to the loo while Grace washed herself. Luckily, Lily had been able to find her a spare toothbrush and nightdress.
There was not much room in the single bed, and it sagged in the middle. Caroline pulled the blanket up to her chin, leaving her bare toes uncovered and chilly. She wanted to turn on her side and pull her knees up, but didn’t dare bump into Grace.
‘Shove up!’ Grace hissed, making the springs creak as she shifted position.
‘You shove up,’ Caroline whispered back. ‘I’m right on the edge.’
Grace gave a groan. ‘Blast …’
‘Oh, what now?’
‘We only forgot to turn the bleedin’ light out, didn’t we?’
They both looked up at the bare bulb hanging over the bed.
Caroline grimaced. ‘Oops.’
‘You got in last,’ Grace told her in a lofty tone. ‘That means you should be the one to get out and turn off the light.’
‘Why, you …’ Caroline dug her in the ribs.
Bafflingly, the light went out on its own. Somewhere along the landing, they heard a man shout, ‘Blackout!’ followed by a curse from Demelza as the baby started crying.
Seconds later, Morris’ piping voice began chanting, ‘Santa! Santa! Santa!’ and had to be hushed by his fond parents.
Caroline couldn’t help herself. She fell back on the pillows, struggling with hysterical laughter, and heard Grace chuckle too beside her. ‘Santa! Santa!’ she repeated, imitating the child’s high voice. They began to giggle helplessly, the bed shaking under them. ‘Santa!’
‘Stop it, shut up … They’ll hear us,’ Grace spluttered.
‘I … I’m trying … but I can’t help it,’ Caroline choked, tears in her eyes. ‘Anyway, it’s not a blackout. It’s a power cut.’
Grace turned to face her, warm and close in the dark. ‘Hush now, will you?’ she insisted.
But however hard Caroline bit her lip, she only laughed harder, caught in hysteria.
‘I can see there’s nothing for it, Miss Ponsby, but to shut you up myself,’ Grace told her in mock-stern tones, and leant forward in the glimmering dark.
Caroline froze in shock as their lips met. Grace was kissing her!
Kissingher!
Caroline lay perfectly still, hands balled into fists by her sides, eyes shut tight, flushed with excitement and not quite able to believe what was happening.
Afterwards, Grace found her hand and squeezed it gently. The two girls lay side by side in the darkness, breathing hard.
‘There now,’ Grace murmured. ‘That’s torn it.’
Caroline sat up with a jolt on Christmas Day morning, alone in bed, opening her eyes on an unfamiliar room, but remembering everything instantly. ‘Oh goodness,’ she whispered to herself, her cheeks flaring with heat.
She found her friend downstairs, staring out of the window at icy fields. Robert and Tristan were standing beside a tractor some distance away in greatcoats and caps, farm dogs running about them. Robert was cradling a wriggling lamb in his arms, its fleecy white body held firmly against his broad chest while the two men examined it.
‘Hello there,’ Caroline whispered, and Grace turned, looking round at her with wide dark eyes, her head a crown of tight luscious curls. She looked beautiful.
Daringly, Caroline reached for her friend’s hand. But as soon as their fingers tangled, Grace jerked away and hurried from the room, muttering, ‘Sorry, I left the kettle on the stove … It’ll be boiling itself dry by now.’
Speechless, Caroline stayed where she was, suddenly cold inside.
