Kylo was in active mode, so it was no wonder he woke up in the middle of the night, as the moonlight crept around the edges of the curtains in his room. For a moment he wondered what had woken him, until he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. They were light, and heading down, creaking at the fifth from the bottom. Miss Jackson of course, probably heading to the bathroom. There were no facilities on the upper floor. It would have been quite difficult to plumb in the drainage and with only the two bedrooms, it was unusual for there to be much of a wait for the toilet. Or she could do what he used to do as a kid – sneak out the back door and up the hill to pee against the woodheap.
Although maybe not, if his suspicions were correct.
He noted the sound of the old toilet lever being activated, and then water in the basin. Her footsteps paused by the fireplace, and he wondered if the large log he left had burnt out. A clunk told him more wood was being added, then scampering footsteps up the stairs gave him her location. Hopefully she wouldn't be so cold as to make it difficult to get back to sleep.
One thing the cabin had that he didn't enjoy was that the internal walls upstairs didn't reach all the way to the ceiling. Ostensibly this was to allow the air to circulate freely, but it also meant the sound came through as well. Too well. He shook his head at the memory of giggles and groans coming from the main bedroom over to the smaller one on warm summer nights when he was assumed to be asleep. He really didn't need those memories right now.
Ten minutes later, he gave up on getting back to sleep, at least for the meantime. He sat up in bed with a notepad, making a list of the things that needed doing. Checking the washing machine was still working and not the winter home for a bunch of chipmunks, for instance. Working out how the rat got in. And writing a letter. Which would be good to do now, while his charge was asleep. Or at least he hoped she was.
The letter took little time, and he tucked it into his satchel. He couldn't say much in it – just that he was still alive, still fine, and still couldn't see them. It had been four long years, and he hoped this was the last one he'd have to write. He might not have got on with his parents, but the time away had made him appreciate them a lot more. But he dare not post it. One look at the postcode and they'd know exactly where he was, and that couldn't happen. He'd have to set up one of the usual channels.
By the time he'd finished, the small amount of sky visible through the skylight had moved from black and full of stars to a middling blue, and the local birds were starting to warble. Kylo grabbed a towel from the downstairs cupboard, then headed for the hot shower he was craving. Hopefully the noise wouldn't be too much for Her Royal Highness upstairs.
The water was gloriously hot, and he felt much better for it, but it was only as he came out and dried himself that he realised he hadn't brought any clothes down. In a pile lay the previously-worn ones, with his gun holster on top. It was his habit to just wear a towel back upstairs, leaving his dirty clothes in the bathroom and getting dressed back in the bedroom. To be honest, he didn't usually wear the towel. There was no point with no-one else in the cabin, but of course that wasn't the case this time. He wasn't going to put on yesterday's clothes. After all, the girl was fast asleep – he'd risk it this time.
He wrapped the towel around himself and grabbed the holster – he'd never go anywhere without his gun, and especially at the moment.
Unfortunately, the towel Kylo had grabbed was small. It would have been fine on his houseguest, but on him it didn't even reach around his hips. He held it tightly as well as he could as he started up the stairs. He was almost halfway up when the door opposite his opened, and Miss Jackson stepped out.
"Oh."
"Morning." Relying on civility to cover all blunders, Kylo continued up, aware that she was most definitely surveying his body as he did. "I'll get some breakfast on soon, shall I?"
"Aren't you cold?"
"If I could get to my room to get some clean clothes on, I wouldn't be. Excuse me." He walked up beside her and went to open the door, but the hand holding the holster was opposite where the handle was. If he reached across, he'd be bumping Miss Jackson. If he let go of the towel, her grandfather would kill him.
"Let me." She reached past him and opened the door, pushing it enough for him to get through.
"Thanks." It wasn't his imagination. She'd watched him go into the room, her attention flicking between his chest and the area covered by the towel. And the arm that had reached past his hip had rested on it, he was certain. He'd have to be careful of this one.
Five minutes later he was dressed and downstairs, following the sounds of activity in the kitchen. He walked in to find his houseguest presiding over a frypan containing a delicious mess of bacon and eggs, and the kettle approaching boiling. The laden plate she put in front of him was certainly edible, although if she continued cooking bacon in these quantities, they'd need to buy more very soon. Which reminded him.
"I need to go into town this afternoon. We should check if there's some way to book you in for the Library on Tuesday."
"It's only Saturday."
"Yeah, but just in case. And I have things to do."
"We only drove in last night." Miss Jackson sat down on the other side of the table and started hoeing into her own food. "What could you possibly have to do that you couldn't do yesterday?"
"Ring your grandfather for one, tell him how well his Principessa is looking after me." It was the closest he could get to a compliment about her cooking, and from the smile it brought to her face, he knew she understood. "I know you had to leave your phone behind, but there's no signal here anyway, and he wants me to check in from time to time."
"You could have done it yesterday."
"I could."
"So what else is so important?" She had the same innocent look on her face as she had the night before, when she was asking him about Ben. He felt a twist in his gut, the awkwardness pulling through him, and he stared down at his food and chewed for a moment, trying to work out the best way to explain it. Then …
"Confession."
"What?"
"I can't go to Mass anyway – too dangerous. Most churches aren't running them. But Confession is available on Saturday afternoons."
Miss Jackson laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you're Catholic. But of course you must be – you go to Mass with Poppy." She sipped her coffee, then smiled again. It wasn't a nice smile. "Do you have to confess to lusts of the flesh or something?"
He did not dignify that with an answer, and after a moment or two she spoke again. "Do I stay here? Go with you?"
"You could sit in the church if you want, or have a coffee somewhere."
"Where? Corellia is a dump!"
He laughed. "The bar has an area for coffee and stuff. You'll need to take some sanitiser, wipe down where you're sitting, and you can't go into the main bar."
"Why not?"
"You're underaged."
"I'm 22".
It was his turn to be surprised. "I thought you were much younger."
"How old did you think I was?"
"18, maybe. Or even 17. Didn't you only finish school last year?"
"Year before. And I was a bit old for it, 'cause I missed a couple of years at the beginning. Poppy said I had to stay until I'd finished." She held up the coffee press, which still held enough brew for a second cup for both of them, and topped up his mug when he nodded. "Last year was a gap year – and I was waiting for a place at college. So I'm older than most of the rest of the students."
"How long is the course?"
"Four years. I'm trying to fast-track, but the subjects are tough, and they won't let you do most of them out of order." She topped up her own mug, and wrapped her hands around it. "The fireplace and the stove might warm things up a bit, but this place is freezing."
"It never was supposed to be a permanent home. Just a summer holiday home, and once a hunting cabin. Although not now. It's National Park, so hunting's not allowed around here. Even so, best if you don't wander off too far. The woods are thick, and it's easy to lose your way. Stay close to the cabin, or not far from the track. Don't try to be silent. The animals should be hunkering down for winter, but there's always a few that seem to hang around." He sipped the coffee. "What sort of beauty course takes four years anyway?"
"It's holistic. Incorporates all of the body, hair management, diet, vitamins." She waved her hands around as if encompassing an entire college.
"Then you can give me some recommendations for my hair. It gets incredibly greasy." Kylo pulled out a couple of strands. Despite being washed that morning, they were limp and lifeless.
"Um … we're not up to hair yet. I'll have a read and see what I can find." Miss Jackson finished up her coffee, and moved the plates to the sink. "What time will we head in?"
"After lunch. We'll be finished by sundown. I have some things to do around here this morning."
"And I need to study. Your turn to do the dishes." She bounced out of the room, smiling as she went.
"Throw some wood on the fire before you head up, so you keep warm," he called after her, putting his own plate in the sink. He'd do the dishes after lunch.
Five minutes later he was outside at the woodheap, prepared with a hoe and a thick pair of gloves. The plan was to move at least a week's worth of wood inside the back porch, making it both easier to get, and ensuring it was snake-free. Within minutes he was glad he was doing it in the frosty chill of the morning. He had a pile of logs off the end of the woodpile, and when he shone his torch in, he could see a mass of scaly backs curled together at the other end of the space, six feet away. There must have been at least four, maybe as many as seven, but their brown and golden diamonds made it very difficult to tell. Most of them were not moving, but one stirred slightly, its body undulating over its brumation companions indicating that it was aware of some mild hazard.
Stay sleeping, my fine friends, Kylo thought as he piled a thin layer of logs back over the hole. All the rats are yours, but stay away from the house. He was glad the woodpile was nearly fifty feet from the cabin. It was unlikely the rattlesnakes would come that close, especially now that they were tucked in for winter. Besides, humans were big and scary, and not at all to their taste. They would not seek out trouble. But were he to come back in summer, he would need to dismantle their sleeping quarters to make sure they didn't return. He did not want to kill them. They had done nothing to deserve that.
He loaded up the wheelbarrow he had brought up, checking each log to make sure any hollows were free of slithery squatters before he put it in the old galvanised hold. At the back door he deliberately dropped each log on the concrete outside to allow any other critters to reconsider their habitations, before piling them up where the rain couldn't reach it. Dusting off his gloves and hanging them up high, he headed to the washing machine and the rest of the morning's chores.
Shortly after noon, Kylo brought a plate of sandwiches and a glass of juice up to the smaller bedroom. He knocked with his elbow, and after a moment's scuffling, she opened it.
"Lunch."
"Oh. Thanks. How long until we go?" She stretched, then took the plate and tumbler.
"About an hour?"
"That's fine." Before he had a chance to say or do anything more, she shut the door in his face. He did manage to glimpse some large and serious-looking textbooks on the small table, and one of the old rockets on the shelf in front. It was balanced on its base, its nose pointing to the ceiling, and he smiled at the idea that someone else appreciated the work. It was a Juno II, complete with an Explorer telescope, and had taken him a month to make one very wet summer. But he daren't tell her that.
An hour later, they bumped along the track towards the road into town. Miss Jackson had a book in her bag to read at the bar, and Kylo had his satchel, and they both wore their masks as they left the car. He spent no more than five minutes in confession, and he left with both his soul and his satchel a little lighter.