CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Back in the cabin, Michaela’s hands were shaking as she tipped the coffee grinds into the plunger and took two large mugs out of the cupboard. Trisha was standing to the side of the window, hugging herself. She’d stoked the fire and shadows were dancing in the corners of the room. None of the lights were on.
The kettle boiled.
‘Can you see anything?’ Michaela asked.
Trisha turned away from the window. She shook her head. ‘Nothing. I think the show’s over.’ She leaned against the bench while Michaela poured the coffee. ‘You’re shivering,’ she said.
Michaela nodded. ‘I’ll put some clothes on in a minute. Not going back to bed. Couldn’t sleep if I tried.’ She sipped at the coffee. It was good; hot and strong. She wrapped her hands around the mug and looked at Trisha in the shadows of the kitchen.
‘We can leave tomorrow,’ she said. ‘If you want to, that is.’ She drank another mouthful of the coffee.
Trisha sighed and walked back to the table, found her cigarettes and lit one. ‘I was supposed to be quitting these things,’ she said. ‘No one likes a girlfriend who smokes anymore.’ She looked out the window again. ‘But what’s another few days?’
Michaela stayed where she was. ‘We can drive back to the city tomorrow. I don’t mind giving you a lift back if you don’t want to stay here.’
Trisha turned and looked at her. The light from the fire turned her dark hair red. ‘You want to stay here, don’t you?’ She took another drag of her cigarette and glanced out the window. ‘You would drive me back to the city and then turn around and come straight back. I got it right when I called you Sherlock, didn’t I?’
Michaela shrugged. ‘Maybe Nancy Drew would be more appropriate,’ she said. Trisha snorted and choked on her coffee. She started laughing, leaning helplessly over the table as the laughter shook through her. Michaela widened her eyes, then began to snicker too, until she had to put her mug down as she laughed, holding her sides, unable to catch her breath. Trisha had sunk to the floor, tears streaming from her eyes. Michaela collapsed onto the floorboards and crawled over to her. They wrapped their arms around each other and held on until the laughter subsided.
‘Oh man,’ Trisha said at last. ‘My stomach muscles are aching. I haven’t laughed like that since I was a kid.’ She hiccoughed and giggled once more.
‘No way, don’t you set us off again,’ Michaela said, rolling over until she was sprawled flat out on the floor, her head in Trisha’s lap. ‘Why aren’t we in front of the fire?’ she said. ‘This floor is cold on my arse.’ She looked up at Trisha. ‘So, am I taking you back to town tomorrow?’
Trisha hiccoughed again. She stroked Michaela’s short hair. ‘I’m not going back,’ she said. ‘I was evicted from my apartment last week.’ She sniffed and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. ‘I was going to stay here a couple of weeks while I decided what to do next.’
Michaela stared at her. The fire crackled and spat a shower of sudden sparks in the next room. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘So we’re both staying here. Who knows? We might even figure out what’s going on over there. But you can be Nancy Drew. I’m sticking with Sherlock.’ She waited for Trisha’s smile.
Trisha looked down at her, fingers warm on her skin. She nodded. Michaela sat up. ‘All right. Can we get off the floor now? This isn’t very dignified.’ She dragged the robe back down over her thighs and grinned.
Dawn broke in a bruised smear of purple light. Michaela watched it creep in through the window, sending the shadows scuttling for the corners. She pulled the blanket up over Trisha’s shoulder and lay down, closed her eyes and slept.
When she woke, there was the smell of fresh coffee and toast from the kitchen. The couch was empty beside her. She stretched and got up, padding onto the kitchen pulling the blanket around her shoulders. Trisha turned around as she came in.
‘Hungry?’ she asked. ‘We’re going to need a decent breakfast, I thought. We’re going to be walking again, aren’t we?’
Michaela looked at the spread on the table and smiled. ‘Looks great,’ she said, sitting down and reaching for a slice of toast.
‘Yeah, hang on a minute, I found a package of sausages in the fridge. They’re almost done.’ She came over to the table and tipped two skinny, blackened sausages onto Michaela’s plate.
Michaela stared at them and began to laugh. She looked at Trisha standing there holding the hot pan. ‘Sorry babe,’ she said. ‘You’re just not the domestic type, are you?’
Trisha screwed up her eyes. ‘I get by,’ she said. ‘Now shut up and eat already.
It’s not everyone I’ll cook breakfast for, you know.’ She turned away.
Michaela swallowed her laughter and stood up. She took the pan from Trisha and put it back on the stove. Placing her hands on Trisha’s shoulder, she pulled her gently towards her. Leaned down and kissed her, a tender pressing of lips.
‘Thanks,’ she said. Then she gave a big smile and went to eat her sausages and toast.