Semilion called on Selina and Priya early the morning following their night in the Smuggler’s.
Priya answered the door, her face grilled with red lines from a night of paralytic sleep. Her hair, for the first time, seemed dull and unkempt, and she looked at him with bag-laden eyes. He would never have believe this was the same woman who had mesmerised him the evening before. She wore the same linen dress, he presumed she had returned home and collapsed in bed, roused only by the sound of his knocking.
‘Please tell me you’ve come with paracetamol?’
‘For a hangover?’ He laughed. ‘Not a chance.’
‘Then can we speak somewhere close to a toilet,’ she groaned, ‘I’m more than likely going to expel the contents of your pub without warning.’
He had come to assign them jobs in the village. They knew the day would arrive, and part of them welcomed it. But not today. Nothing was welcome today other than sleep.
‘Everyone pitches in,’ he said once they were convened in the living room. ‘Selina, ‘I need you to help Hannah and Morag in the mill. George gives a hand when he’s free but, well, he’s needed more and more elsewhere. Hannah and Morag are getting on a bit and could use an extra pair of hands... But don’t tell them I said that. I'd never hear the end of it.’
‘Ok.’ She smirked, sensing Hannah and Morag belittled Semilion’s authority.
‘Priya, I’d like you to lend your services in the crèche looking after our under-fives.’
At this Priya blanched and disappeared into the kitchen. ’I don’t have to start today, do I?’ She called, her head in the sink.
‘No, don’t worry, you can both begin tomorrow.’
She nodded and he showed himself out. Selina heard Priya drag herself upstairs and then the creak of the bed as she collapsed into it. She heard a moan of ‘Kids!’ And then all was quiet.
Opening the living room window, Selina closed her eyes and fell back asleep on the sofa.