I brushed my teeth and checked my breath and then dug through my overnight case for my pyjamas. They were a vest top and cropped bottoms with pink and white love hearts all over them. They were cute, girly, the opposite of sexy. If I’d had more notice about our little trip away, I would have bought myself something more sophisticated. Did Ryan expect to find me draped across the bed in a silk negligee? Or did he expect me to be tucked under the duvet in my girly pyjamas? And what if I undressed and went to bed and then Ryan came running to tell me that Lauren was after us and we needed to leave right now? I sighed. There was no way I was getting into bed until Ryan was back and I knew what was going on.
Silence. There was no television in the room to distract me. Not even a coffee-maker to hiss and bubble and make friendly noises. The double glazing kept out the sound of the sea, although it was just metres away. No one was walking along the thickly carpeted hallway outside my door. There was nothing but the rush of blood through my ears and the unnerving quiet.
I kept reminding myself this woman was a cleaner, and cleaners clean. And kill. Methodically. Efficiently. Probably quietly too. I swung around and looked at the door. Nothing. Just the sound of silence freaking me out.
I searched for something I could use as a weapon. Just in case. There were few furnishings in the room. I considered the wastepaper bin by the dresser, but when I picked it up it turned out to be made of thin metal. If I bashed someone over the head with it, all it would do was leave a dent in the bin. There was a New Testament in the bedside table, but it was a flimsy paperback.
I was about to give up when I noticed a set of fire irons in an alcove next to the boxed-in fireplace. It had a brush, shovel and poker. I lifted each one in turn. The poker was easily the heaviest of the three tools. Long and made from a heavy, black metal, it could probably do some serious damage if I hit someone on the head. I clutched it in my hands and stood by the door.
Right on cue there was a friendly rap-tap-a-tap-tap.
‘Who is it?’ I called.
‘It’s me,’ said Ryan.
Feeling slightly stupid, I unlocked the door.
‘Good thinking,’ he said, eyeing the poker as he slipped inside. He locked the door behind him.
‘So?’
He strode across the room and pulled the curtains open. Through the window, the daylight on the patio was nearly gone; the picnic table, the wall and the palm tree were blending into the shadows. He pulled the curtains shut again.
‘You want the good news or the bad news?’
I felt a shiver scuttle up my back, like a spider. ‘The bad news.’
‘She’s staying in this guest house.’
‘You have got to be kidding me!’
Ryan sat on the edge of the bed. I stayed standing.
‘The good news is that I’m certain the time-ship theory is correct.’
‘Why do you think that? Did something happen?’
He ran his hands through his hair. ‘After she left the harbour she walked up the street and went into the Co-op. I followed her in and bought a newspaper. She bought a lighter and some liquid paraffin. She’ll use the paraffin to try and make it look like some kids set fire to something. It’s a cover. She’ll use the leftover gas in the fuel tank to destroy the ship. From there she came directly back to the guest house. I stayed several metres behind her, but when I walked in the front door she was deep in conversation with the receptionist. She was asking for a map of the most isolated islands. It all adds up.’
‘Did she see you?’
‘No.’
I hadn’t realised I’d been holding my breath until I slowly released the air that had been trapped in my lungs. I sat beside him on the bed.
‘I don’t think we have anything to worry about,’ he said.
‘So, it’s a coincidence.’
He put a hand on my leg. ‘Yeah. But I don’t like coincidences. I think we should leave the islands tomorrow.’
‘The boat sails at four.’
‘We’ll keep a low profile until then.’
We stayed where we were for a minute or two, listening to the absolute quiet. It felt as though the room itself were trembling. My heartbeat. The booming silence. Knowing that an assassin shared our home for the night.
I turned and placed one palm over Ryan’s heart. It beat a frantic rhythm against my skin.
‘You’re scared,’ I said.
He placed his hand on top of mine. ‘This has nothing to do with Lauren.’
He stood up, opened his overnight bag and took out his toothbrush and toothpaste. He opened the door to the bathroom and leant against the door frame. ‘The door is locked and I’m going to leave this poker by the bed. Are you OK?’
I nodded.
My pyjamas were still stuffed in my overnight case. While Ryan brushed his teeth, I unfolded them and then refolded them and then unfolded them again. There was no way I could strip off here in the bedroom with all the lights on and Ryan just the other side of the bathroom door, almost finished brushing his teeth.
‘Hey,’ I said, as he came back in.
He smiled and glanced at the pyjamas in my hand. ‘You gonna put those on?’
I nodded and rubbed the frayed strip of lace at the bottom of the vest top. ‘They’re kind of old.’
‘They’re cute.’
I stepped closer to the bathroom door. ‘I’m just going to go in here and get undressed.’
Ryan shrugged one shoulder. ‘OK.’
I took my pyjamas into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Hurriedly, I stripped off my clothes and pulled on my pyjamas. The sliver of light under the bathroom door dimmed. Ryan was just behind that door. Waiting for me.
I took a deep breath, unlocked the door and pushed it open. The room was shadowy, the only light coming from the soft glow of the bedside lamp on one of the night tables. My gaze rested first on the bed. It was empty. Then I saw Ryan, standing by the patio doors, watching the last flush of the sunset redden the horizon. To my relief he was still dressed.
I joined him at the window, my blood pounding through every inch of my body.
‘They look even cuter on you,’ said Ryan, running a finger across the strap of my vest top.
I tried to smile, but my face was too tense to do it convincingly.
‘OK,’ he sighed. ‘I guess we need to talk about the sleeping arrangements.’
I bit my bottom lip. ‘What about them?’
‘Which of us gets the bed and which of us gets to sleep here?’ He pointed at the armchair by the fireplace.
‘It’s a big bed. I’m sure we’ll both fit.’
‘You don’t mind sharing?’
I shook my head and clambered under the covers. Ryan took off his boots and jeans, but kept the rest of his clothes on.
‘Aren’t you going to get undressed?’
‘I don’t have anything to change into. And I thought I might freak you out if I stripped naked.’
I laughed. ‘You got that right.’ I leant across and switched off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
‘Goodnight then,’ he said.
‘Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?’
He closed the wide space between us and found my face with his fingertips. I felt his warm, minty breath on my face and then he kissed me. My body was flooded with warmth and I kissed him back, all my inhibitions forgotten. For a few seconds, I was lost in the pleasure of the moment. And then, unwelcome and unbidden, an image of Lauren smoothing back her bun in Miranda’s sitting room floated into my mind. I forced it out and tried to focus on the feel of Ryan’s skin, but my mind was bombarded with images and sensations. Lauren standing at the docks, her shiny brown hair swinging down her back. The dip and roll of the boat that had brought us to the islands. The moon glowing in the twilight. My once final resting place in the woodland.