Two hours later, Sarah found herself on the brink of tears. Despite Felix’s best efforts, she had wasted about a hundred pounds’ worth of coffee and milk on botched attempts at fancy-named coffees she could not master.
‘Stupid machine,’ said Sarah, smacking her hand against it.
‘Hey, watch it. That thing is worth thousands of pounds, you know.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s not working.’
‘Watch.’ Felix moved behind the machine, pressing buttons, twisting knobs, disappearing in a plume of steam, then turning round and handing Sarah a perfect cup of coffee topped off with a fancy leaf design. ‘It’s not the machine, Sarah. You’ll get there, don’t worry. I had to take a ton of courses to get to this point.’
Sarah sighed. She was due a break, not another thing to add to the list of things she couldn’t get right. ‘Can we try again tomorrow? If you don’t mind, I need to get myself to bed.’
‘Sure. You OK finding your way back? I’ll stay and clear up here.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Night.’
Back at her tipi and unwilling to navigate the undergrowth in order to get to the toilet, Sarah pulled a water bottle from her bag and brushed her teeth outside the tent. Back inside, she pulled out the chamber pot and eyed it as though preparing for battle.
Sarah weighed up the options. She could fight through brambles to the disgusting compost loo, she could pee behind the tipi and risk Felix stumbling across her, or she could swallow her pride and pee in a pot. Pushing away thoughts of the comfortable bathroom in her parents’ house, she unbuttoned her jeans. With a deep breath, Sarah emptied her bladder into the chamber pot, her cheeks burning despite no one to witness how far she’d fallen.
Pyjamas on, she climbed into bed. Sarah hated to admit it, but it was more comfortable than she had expected. Pulling the duvet up around her chin, Sarah snuggled down with her book. Before long, her eyelids grew heavy, and she put down the book and blew out the lamp.
In the dark, the tipi felt different. Something tickled Sarah’s cheek, and she leapt out of bed, screaming.
‘Sarah? Sarah?’ Felix appeared at the door. ‘Are you OK?’
‘There’s something in my bed. I felt it on my face.’
‘OK, OK, don’t panic. Let me see.’ Felix walked in, torch in hand and threw bright yellow light onto the bedsheets. Sarah looked down in horror at the chamber pot beside the bed. She threw a towel over the pot, praying Felix hadn’t seen it.
‘Ah ha,’ he said, cupping his hands against the sheet. ‘I’ve found the culprit. Nothing worse than a harmless house spider. Want to see?’
Sarah shook her head, clutching a pillow to her chest. Felix carried the small creature out of the tipi and appeared a moment later, reassuring Sarah it was over the other side of the field and wouldn’t be troubling her anymore that night.
‘Is there anything more I can do for you?’
‘No, thanks.’ Sarah climbed into bed.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight.’
Sarah tried her best to sleep, but hadn’t anticipated the forest coming alive at night. Growing up in suburbia, Sarah assumed when she tucked herself up in a comfy bed, all the animals of the forest snuggled down into a bed of leaves, sleeping away the hours until the sun came up again. How wrong she was.
If anything, the forest was noisier at night than in the day. Each time Sarah started drifting towards sleep, a shriek, howl or cackling call would jolt her awake, sending her pulse rate through the roof and sweat beading her forehead.
I’ve landed in hell, was Sarah’s final thought before she succumbed to sleep.
Chapter 18
Sarahrolledoverandswitched on her phone. At first she thought her sleep-blurred eyes were mistaken. It couldn’t be ten already? She’d never slept that late in her life. A series of messages popped up. One from Cynthia.
Where do you want us to send your stuff from the house? Need an answer ASAP!
A beach photo followed, Cynthia wearing a hat so broad it flopped down to her shoulders, and a bikini so small Sarah saw far more of her mother’s body than she’d like. She ignored the message, her heart beating faster as she clicked on a series of messages from an unknown number.
Hi, love. Dad here. This is my new number. It would be good to talk to you soon.
