Chapter 6

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I dreamed again of the hatch beneath the rug. Despite knowing what waited within that cursed cellar, I couldn’t stop myself from heading down to that despicable place. This time, the walls were lit by glowing mould instead of torches, forming patterns ever more intricate the deeper I descended.

When I reached the cellar, I found wet grass and ancient trees instead of skulls, blissful morning sunshine instead of wine. Birds sang as a summer breeze swayed the lush foliage and swirled through the entrance of a cave, stirring the air into song.

I awoke well after sunset. Jarrad’s sweet voice carried over the sound of sizzling and smells of food and a freshly stoked fireplace. Though I tried to stay awake, the heady sensation of fatigue and wine lulled me back to sleep.

When I awoke again, it was light beyond the foggy windows, and quiet in the cottage save for a lark in the garden. The kitchen, sink and all, were pristine. I went upstairs, as quietly as I could, skipping the one step I knew would creak the loudest. The curtains were open and our bed unmade, newspaper splayed over Jarrad’s pillow exactly how we left it yesterday.

Did he even come home last night? Already, the sense of his presence last night, the realness of it, was fading from my mind. Did I dream that? It seemed so real.

The room grew cold. The lark ceased its call, leaving a despondent silence. I ran down the stairs, noting the absence of Jarrad’s boots at the bottom of the landing. My phone lay under the couch, a message waiting for me.

You sleep so soundly after a bottle! Love you.

Frantic, I asked him where he was, why he didn’t wake me up.

Sorry, you looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you. And guess what, I figured out how to take pictures of the cavern.

Oh, does that mean you found your camera?

He didn’t reply, but knowing he was safe abated my fears. To my own surprise, I felt confident. I could handle being on my own for the morning. It would have terrified me more to be the kind of partner who couldn’t stand to be away from their other half. Though, if I were honest with myself, I much preferred to be in Jarrad’s company.

I put my phone on charge and kept busy with a bath, a good book, and imaginings of my beloved admiring the cavern with awe and wonder. Perhaps he’d linger in the forest too, snapping the vile bramble and wild birds with his an avid outdoorsman’s zeal. Maybe he’d hike down the hill and pick flowers from the meadow to fill the glass vase on the mantelpiece. That’s the kind of thing he’d do. One day, maybe I’d see the world the way he did.

I towelled off and checked my messages. Still no reply. It was just on lunchtime and he still wasn’t back. Although it was the warmest time of day, I felt the creep of cold again as I dialled his number and listened to the phone ring out.

But more than apprehensive and afraid, I was disappointed with myself for getting lonely. We’d only been apart a few hours.

Would it be silly to go looking for him? Yes.

And yet I found myself getting dressed for a hike, zipping up my parka, lacing up my boots.

Of course it wouldn’t be silly. This was our holiday together. I was ready to brave the outdoors. This was me, making an effort.