‘We should go out there and help clear the road,’ I say, turning back to the rest of the group. ‘And we should get the people who stayed last night to help, too. If we all work together, we can have that tree moved in no time.’
And hopefully get Hunter and the villagers talking in the process.
‘Help?’ says Millie, as if she’s trying to speak a foreign language. ‘But .?.?. what canwedo to help? I don’t think I’d be much use with an axe.’
‘I thinkIwould be,’ puts in Yasmin, thoughtfully. ‘Count me in, Rosie.’
‘I was just thinking we could spend the morning in the spa, actually, if Sabrina isn’t going to give us some direction here,’ puts in Bex. ‘There’s nothing else to do, and I wasn’t really happy with the photos you got the last time we were there, Daniel. I’d like to get some more before we leave.’
‘Bex,’ I say patiently. ‘We can’t spend the day in a spa while everyone downstairs is stranded here. We have to help them try to get home.’
Bex looks like she’s about to argue with this, but a glance from Daniel silences her.
‘Rosie’s right,’ says Zara, coming to join me at the window. ‘And the fact is, none of us will be leaving here tomorrow if we don’t get the road cleared. You don’t want to end up stuck here for days, do you, Bex?’
‘No.’ Yasmin nods. ‘We don’t want that. Because if the hotel runs out of food, we’d have to eat each other. They must be running low already, after last night.’
She takes a long look around the room, as if she’s trying to decide which one of us would be the tastiest, and that’s all it takes to spur Millie and Bex into action. Daniel follows them out of the room, still looking a little green around the gills, and I pause in the doorway to quickly check my Instagram account, where @cosmicsprinkles1995 has commented on my last selfie to ask what’s wrong with my face, and Jim from Canterbury has sent me a photo of his flaccid penis, which reminds me of one of the chipolata sausages my sister served last Christmas.
One thing’s for sure: my stay at the Chrysalis might not have changed my life, but it has, at least, proved beyond doubt that I’m not cut out to be an influencer.
And, honestly? I don’t think Iwantto be one anymore.
I don’t want to have to spend the entire day snapping endless photos of myself in a selection of unrealistic outfits that I can’t really afford, and don’t even like. I don’t want to spend my evenings editing content when I could be out dancing with friends. I don’t want to have to eat all of my meals cold because I have to spend so much time photographing them first. And Idefinitelydon’t want to have to spend my life pretending to be something I’m not – which, as far as I can see, is all anyone’s doing in this place.
Actually, I think I want to go and chop up a tree.
Chapter 33
After a quick stop at the reception desk to speak to Dante (who’s surprisingly amenable now that his role in Turnipgate has been exposed) I head outside, where a large group of villagers have gathered on the hotel driveway, Izzie and Ian among them.
‘Mornin’, Rosie,’ says Ian, as I come walking towards them, enjoying the feeling of the sun on my skin after all the rain we had yesterday. ‘Looks like more bad weather’s on the way; we’re going to have to try to get ourselves out of here soon if we’re going to make it back home today.’
Izzie nods, squinting as she peers up at the sky. I follow suit, seeing a few dark clouds, but nothing that suggests another storm.
‘Aye, there’s more rain coming,’ Izzie says. ‘Ach, look out,’ she adds, looking beyond me to the hotel entrance. ‘ And a bawbag coming too, by the looks of things.’
A few seconds later, Hunter joins us, Stevie at his heels as usual. I straighten my shoulders almost subconsciously, steeling myself for our first real interaction since all of last night’s – and this morning’s – revelations.
‘Bad news, I’m afraid,’ Hunter says without preamble. ‘I’ve just had a message from the power company, and the power to the village is still out. It seems they’ve managed to find the problem, but we’re not the only ones who sustained some damage in the storm last night, so they’re having trouble getting to the part that needs to be repaired.’
There’s a rumble of discontent from the crowd around us.
‘Well, if it’s a problem they were looking for, I could’ve helped them with that,’ retorts Izzie sharply. ‘There’s one standing right in front of me.’
‘Now, that’s not fair, Izzie,’ Ian says in a soothing tone. ‘It’s not this lad’s fault the power went out. We can’t blame him for that.’
‘No, but wecanblame him for everything else that’s gone wrong around here,’ replies Izzie tersely. ‘I knew he was up to no good as soon as I saw that Black Shuck o’ his. You’re a Good Boy, though,’ she adds, ruffling Stevie’s ears. ‘It’s not your fault you’re a harbinger of doom.’
‘If we could get back to the issue at hand,’ says Hunter, who’s clearly aiming for a neutral tone, although his expression tells a different story. ‘As I said, the power’s still out, and there’s no telling when it’ll be back on. In the meantime, you’re all stuck here until this tree’s out of the way. I’m going to make a start on trying to clear it now, but it might take me a while; the chainsaw’s broken, so I’m going to have to make do with an axe.’
‘I’ll help,’ says Ian promptly, just as I thought he would. ‘Then, as soon as it’s cleared, we’ll be on our way.’
‘I’ll help, too,’ says a man standing next to Ian.
‘And me,’ says someone else.
A few more of the villagers volunteer their services, and Hunter gives a sharp nod.
