It Started With A Tweet(32)

Not entirely sure of our address, but I’m sure if you write ‘Upper Gables Farm, Lullamby’ it’ll find us. The postwomen seem very helpful.

Love ya

Daisy xx



I stick the stamp on and hand it over, knowing full well that it’s going to be read by Liz and Gerry, but I need it to catch the post. We say our goodbyes to our new friends in the village shop.

‘See you again,’ calls Liz over the bell.

‘Ooh riddled with mice,’ I hear Gerry say.

Blimey, she could at least have waited for me to leave before she read it!

‘Talk about the Spanish inquisition,’ I say as we reach the car.

‘Don’t forget you’re used to being down South. Everyone’s much friendlier up here.’

‘Are you sure that it’s not more about the gossip than being friendly?’

Rosie shrugs her shoulders. ‘Same, same.’

She opens up the boot and puts in the bag of shopping before we climb back in.

The clouds that before were drab and grey seem to have become darker, as if rain is threatening, so we hurry back to the house.

I’m starting to wish I’d brought warmer clothes with me. I’m eyeing up Rosie’s North Face fleece like it’s a Stella McCartney sweatshirt. Hopefully, she was serious about sorting out my wardrobe issues as, despite the clean clothes, I don’t have much that is suited to the conditions.

By the time we make it down the bumpy track back to the farm, it’s started to drizzle, and as we’re heading to the front door, shopping in hand, Rosie stops mid-stride.

‘I can’t have closed the barn door,’ she says as she walks over and slides across the bolt. ‘Don’t want any more pigeons setting up home in there.’

I walk over to the farmhouse and wait for Rosie to unlock it with the old key. She pushes the door open like a pro and unpacks the shopping, leaving the cookies on the table and I can’t resist helping myself to one.

‘Oh, these are really good,’ I say, spilling crumbs out of my mouth.

Rosie picks one up as well. ‘Mmm,’ she agrees.

‘Do you think we should get started on dinner? I say, prodding at the worktop. ‘Do you think it’s safe to prepare food on here?’

‘I bought a couple of pizzas we can put in the oven tonight as that’s clean enough. I don’t think it was ever used. But you’re right about the rest of it, it could do with a deep clean and then it’ll be fine.’

I don’t share her optimism that a little elbow grease is all that’s needed, but at the very least it might stop us from getting E.coli.

Suddenly, there’s a large bang from outside and both of us jump.

‘What was that?’ I ask, peering nervously out of the window. The rain is really coming down now and the clouds are almost shrouding the big hills in the distance in mist.

‘Probably the wind catching something,’ says Rosie, opening the fridge to hunt for the pizza.

We hear a banging and this time it’s more rhythmic.

‘That doesn’t sound like the wind, that sounds like something’s trapped in the barn,’ I say, gulping. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t you who left the door open.’

We open the kitchen door and can hear shouting too. Rosie and I look nervously at each other.

‘Looks like you’ve caught more than a pigeon. What do we do?’ I say, my heart racing.

‘I don’t know,’ says Rosie, shaking her head.

Again I curse the fact that we’re alone here without our phones. We could have totally skyped someone as we went to investigate, safe in the knowledge that someone could have at least called the police for us if it turned out to be a crazy axe murderer. Whereas now, no one, except maybe Liz and Gerry and perhaps, at a push, the grumpy Big Foot Jack, would know where we were, and even then none of them would know we’d gone missing.

‘Perhaps we should go back to the village and get reinforcements?’ I say, wondering if there’s a village bobby as well as a pub.

‘No,’ says Rosie, ‘if we’re going to stay here, we’re going to have to deal with things like this. It’s probably just a neighbour with some scones or something.’

Listening to the thumping it doesn’t sound like they’re likely to have baked goods on their person.

Rosie takes a deep breath before jogging towards the noise. Being the supportive sister or, more accurately, the scaredy cat one who doesn’t want to be left on her own, I follow her over.

She looks at me as she takes a deep breath and slides the door across.

A man with his arms outstretched flies at us.

I scream and cling onto Rosie, using her as a human shield. If I’m going down, then at least she’s going first; after all, she’s the one who got us into this mess.





Chapter Eleven

Time since last Internet usage: 1 day, 2 hours, 22 minutes and 43 seconds

The man staggers forward and just about manages to keep himself from falling into the muddy puddles that are popping up all over the courtyard.

He turns round to face us, and fearing that he’s going to lunge at us again, I hold my position behind my sister. Well, she is the oldest and therefore it’s only right that she should protect me.

But instead of lunging at us, he smiles and pats himself down. Clearly he’d only been going to knock as we opened the door.