can’t go answering the door in your slinky nightie when there are builders around, you’ll have my lads dropping hammers on their toes.’
‘It’s an old dressing gown, Billy, and I think I’m more likely to frighten them off than anything else,’ retorted Holly. She knew she must look a state but was silently grateful for Billy’s gallantry as she tried to scrape back her hair into some kind of order.
Billy’s mischievous smile dropped and his playful tone was replaced by one of concern. ‘Hey, what happened to your face?’ he asked.
Holly leaned back and took a look at herself in the hallway mirror. The right side of her cheek was bruised and grazed. ‘It’s nothing,’ Holly said in a robotic tone as the memory of her moonlit walkabout replayed in her mind for the first time since waking.
‘If that man of yours has been knocking you about then we’ll be having serious words when he gets back,’ Billy growled.
‘Don’t be daft,’ Holly said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘I’m just a weak and feeble woman who can’t be trusted on her own. I tripped in the garden, that’s all.’
‘Well, it sounds like it was a good idea of mine to send Jocelyn around. I knew you’d need looking after.’
Holly was in no mood for Billy’s usual banter, but if she didn’t appear her usual self, who knew who else he would be sending around to check on her.
‘I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, but yes, it was a very good idea. She’s a lovely lady,’ replied Holly with a smile that was more genuine this time.
‘You need to get out more, visit people.’
‘Now if I promise I will, could you stop nagging and get on with your work?’
Billy saluted. ‘I aim to please. We should have the internal work finished by the end of the week, so if you want to start thinking about those bells and whistles you wanted to add, now would be a good time. After that, if there’s anything else you need, you only have to ask.’
‘Is that a proposition, Billy?’ gasped Holly with a half smile.
Billy actually blushed. ‘Erm, well, I was actually thinking, well, what I meant was, erm, the garden could do with a proper makeover. We don’t want any more accidents, do we?’ he stammered.
Holly shivered as she recalled the sensation of kneeling on the soft lawn. ‘Thanks, Billy, but I’m not sure I want to let Tom off the hook with that particular job just yet.’
She brought her chat with Billy to a swift end, promising to make him and his lads a nice cup of tea. With Billy dispatched to the studio, Holly took another look at her reflection in the mirror. She wanted desperately to believe that the events of the previous night had just been a weird and not-so-wonderful nightmare, but the physical evidence was difficult to dismiss.
As she went through the motions of getting showered and dressed, her mind remained focused on finding a rational explanation for what had happened the night before. There was absolutely no doubt that she had left the house during the night. The open kitchen door and the wet jog pants proved without a doubt that she had gone into the garden. The wooden box left abandoned on the kitchen table confirmed that she had been playing with the moondial. But at what point did reality end and her imagination take over?
Everything had a rational explanation up until the point when she had banged her head. Mild concussion might explain her bizarre vision of the future; in fact, it was the only explanation Holly was willing to consider.
Refusing to waste any more time thinking about the hallucination, she readied herself for a full day’s work. She went downstairs and made the promised pot of tea for the builders and then a strong cup of coffee for herself. She set out the tools of her trade on the kitchen table, determined to spend the day focused on Mrs Bronson’s commission. Being organized and disciplined sometimes conflicted with her creativity, but today she needed something to concentrate her mind on. No distractions.
Tom phoned. There were some distractions that were an exception to the rule and Holly needed the comfort from simply hearing his voice.
‘Good morning, my light, my life,’ Tom chirped.
‘Good morning, my compass, my anchor,’ replied Holly, and she was surprised at how relieved she was to have Tom hear and acknowledge her. She thought of the man she had seen the night before, bereft and lost, but quickly pushed the image from her mind.
‘Haven’t disturbed you, have I?’ Tom asked.
‘No, not at all. You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed you.’
‘Not got the substitute installed yet, then?’ Tom asked playfully.
Holly smiled, enjoying the normality of the conversation. The tension she had been carrying with her all morning slipped from her body. ‘It was a bit fraught earlier,’ she told Tom, ‘but I’ve managed to kick the rugby team out of my bed.’
‘Only one rugby team? Your stamina must be slipping.’
‘So how about you? Sourced out a string of hussies to keep you busy?’
‘Oh, there was extensive auditioning last night but no one compares to you.’
‘I miss you,’ Holly whispered, unable to keep up the pretence any longer.
‘I miss you too.’
‘I don’t think I can bear to be away from you for so long. To hell with Mrs Bronson, I should come and join you.’
There was the longest silence. Holly sensed Tom’s agreement but neither of them wanted to break their resolve to see it through.
‘No, ignore me,’ Holly added quickly before Tom could answer. ‘I’ve had a bad night, that’s all and it’s only been one day. I’ll be fine, honest. It’ll take a few days for me to settle and after all, I’ve got this damned commission to do. Throwing in the towel just isn’t an option. I’ve only got today and tomorrow left to get the designs right. I’ll throw myself into my work and I’ll be fine. Ignore me. I’ll be fine. Honest.’
‘Holly.’
‘Yes?’
‘You’re rambling.’
Holly sighed. ‘Sorry.’
‘So didn’t you have a good night?’
‘Now that’s an understatement.’ Holly paused, not sure about how much she could tell Tom without worrying him. ‘Now don’t go freaking out, but I had a bit of an accident and no, I don’t mean I wet the bed.’ She hoped the levity in her voice sounded genuine.
‘What kind of accident? Are you OK?’ Tom’s voice was laced with anxiety.
Holly did a quick editing exercise in her mind. Tom was level-headed about most things, but he’d be sending her off for a brain scan if she mentioned hallucinations. ‘I was in the garden and slipped. It’s just a graze on the cheek, nothing major.’
‘You banged your head? Did you knock yourself out? Did you lose consciousness?’
‘I watch the medical dramas too, you know. No, I didn’t lose consciousness. No concussion, doctor, honest,’ Holly said with an air of confidence she didn’t feel. ‘Although I may have dented the moondial with my head.’
‘What do you mean the moondial? Don’t you mean the sundial? Are you sure that knock to the head didn’t affect your senses?’
‘I’m fine,’ repeated Holly, a little too curtly. Tom was closer to the truth than he realized. ‘It was Jocelyn who called it a moondial and she should know, she lived here first.’
Holly had already told Tom all about her unexpected visitor and mentioning Jocelyn again was a good way to change the subject. Holly hadn’t exactly lied to Tom about her fall but she hadn’t told him the whole truth