A knock behind her.
The dream faded. Another knock.
She sat up in bed gradually realizing there was a knocking on the garret door. It took a moment for her to remember where she was. The dream had been more vivid than ever before and she didn’t want to forget it so soon. She wanted to immerse herself in it, try to make sense of the confusion that had been her constant companion for so many years. Who was she? It had more details that time, things she had never noticed before.
Another knock. This one louder accompanied by the rattling of keys.
“All right,” she said. “I’m up.”
The door opened and Cam stuck his head in. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“I heard screaming.”
“Huh? Oh, I was having a bad dream. Hey. Did you lock me in here last night?”
“It was for your own safety.”
“What if I needed the you know?”
He frowned, not understanding.”
“The bathroom.”
“Ye are not dirty.”
“Oh, good grief. What if I needed to pee.”
He shrugged. “There is a chamber pot in the corner.”
She looked and then looked back at him. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll go use the toilet. Where is it?”
“The what?”
She sighed. It was too early in the morning to remember she was in the Middle Ages. “The garderobe,” she said, rubbing her eyes as she climbed out of the bed. “And I don’t suppose you have any clean pants for me to wear?” She shook her head before he could answer. “Of course not, medieval women didn’t wear underwear.”
“You can use the one in my chamber.”
“I thought that was the Laird’s use only.”
He gave her a curt smile. “I say what goes in ma castle.”
The smile was gone almost as soon as it came but while it was there it had lit up his face. Rachel squeezed past him out of the garret, feeling the heat of his body as he stood perfectly still. Once in his room there was only a door and curtain visible. The door led to the stairs so she headed to the curtain, pulling it back to reveal a long narrow passage that was plastered white. At the end she turned a corner and caught her first proper sight of a medieval toilet.
Sprigs of heather and rosemary were hung from the wall but no amount of herbs or dried flowers could mask the smell drifting up into the room. Holding her breath she glanced down through the wooden seat and immediately regretted it. The drop was sheer and ran all the way to the base of the castle.
Hoping the wood was solid, she sat shivering with the wind blowing up against her behind. Once she was done she looked in vain for toilet paper, finding only a pile of moss heaped on the seat beside her. It would have to do.
To her surprise it was softer than she expected. Feeling much in need of a bath or shower, she returned to the main bed chamber. “Did you have any luck last night?” she asked Cam’s back.
He spun around from his position by the window. “Aboot whit?”
“Mistress Abernathy.”
“Her killer is somewhere in the castle and we will find him. Her necklace is missing though. It seems that someone might know more about your idea for getting home than they’re letting on.”
“The necklace is gone? Then what are we supposed to do? I can’t stay here. I need clean clothes. I need a shower. Oh boy, do I need a shower.”
