Distraction

Chapter Six

The next morning, Libby woke in Maggie's old bedroom with sunshine filtering through the curtains and a loud purring in her ear. Reluctantly, she'd switched rooms with Zoe and huddled under the duvet in the dead woman's bed more than a little freaked out. She'd expected to lie awake, fighting off nightmares, but the large ginger tabby cat had padded into the room and jumped up onto the bed, curling up by her feet. Libby, appreciating the company, had quickly fallen into a curiously dreamless sleep.  

Yawning, she rolled over to see the cat sat by her pillow, staring at her. Libby checked her watch. Six o'clock. After the interrupted night's sleep and wine she'd knocked back with Zoe whilst unpacking, she'd expected to wake late.  

'You, mister, are one hell of an alarm clock. I've got time for a run.' She turned the silver disc on his collar. 'Hyssop? Nice to meet you, Hyssop. But aren't witches' cats supposed to be black?'  

He pushed his head against her hand.  

'I'm afraid Zoe isn't going to be your biggest fan. She's allergic to cats.' She kissed his head, smiling when his purr grew louder. 'I wonder if I can keep you.' 

He meowed, rubbing his head against her chin.  

'Today is going to be a good day, Hyssop. Today, I'm starting my idyllic rural life.'

  

'Today's a bloody disaster and it's not even half-seven.' Libby leaned against the bathroom door, pulling her socks off. 'Are you going to be long? I'm going to be late for work' 

Zoe vacated the shower with conditioner-soaked hair. 'Heaven forbid I'd be the one to get you sacked. What happened?' 

'I got lost.' How, still mystified her.  

At the end of the back garden, the little wooden gate opened onto a bridleway meaning Libby only had to run for fifteen minutes, following the track wherever it took her, turn around, and head back - the sensible plan for her first day in the area and her first day at work.  

Instead, the luxury of running on grass not concrete seduced her into running for a little longer, a little further. After twenty minutes, she stopped to size up the valley around her, the wine-blurred memory of the OS map she'd studied the night before giving her false confidence. Surely, she'd thought, if she carried on the same track, it'd take her back to the village.  

After twenty-five minutes, she'd realised the track was heading up to Lum Crag, not to the Gosthwaite. Her only option was to double back. But that was okay. Until the track started to bear little resemblance to the lane she'd headed out on. Where had she gone wrong? There were no turns, no alternatives, no options. Eventually, she'd clambered a few gates and scampered home across the fields, anything just to get home.  

After a hasty shower, Libby pulled on the cream jodhpurs and black polo shirt she'd worn the previous afternoon, before pulling her still wet hair into a scruffy bun and applying three layers of mascara. Okay, she'd like to have had some eyeliner, and dragged a brush through her hair, but she couldn't be late. Not on Day One.  

She checked her watch. Quarter to. If she left now, she'd even be a few minutes early. A cigarette on the way and all would be fine with her world. Hyssop sat by the door, watching her like a mother sending her child off to school as she grabbed her jacket, pulled on her boots and threw her cigarettes in her bag.  

She stopped to kiss his head. 'This is still going to be a good day.' 

He meowed as the doorbell rang. 

'Zoe? I'll be late.' 

'Naked. Deal with them.' 

Libby swore but opened the door, smiling until she saw who was on the other side.