In silence Kate followed him up the white-painted staircase to a room no bigger than her bedroom in Park Crescent. The furniture was plain and contemporary, and the curtains and bedcovers were white but, unlike the rest of the house, the room was painted a creamy shade of yellow.
‘Attractive,’ said Kate, so tired by this time she could hardly stand straight.
‘Sherbet,’ said Jack.
She stared at him blankly.
‘You’re up on paint colours, Kate. This is Sherbet.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘The bathroom—a very small one, is behind the door over there,’ he informed her. ‘I hope you sleep well.’
‘Thank you.’
Jack said goodnight and closed the door and, with a sigh Kate collected some hangers from the wardrobe and went into the bathroom. It was small, as Jack warned, but wonderfully warm and fully equipped with everything a guest could need, best of all a towelling dressing gown. She undressed hurriedly and got into it, then hung her suit and camisole on the shower rail, rinsed out her underwear and arranged it on the radiator. She was squeezing toothpaste on to a brand-new toothbrush when Jack knocked on the bedroom door.
Kate opened it to find him holding out one of his white T-shirts.
‘I thought you might need this.’
‘Thank you. I borrowed the dressing gown,’ she added unnecessarily.
‘So I see. Goodnight again.’
‘Goodnight, Jack.’
Kate brushed her teeth, washed her face again, and did what she could with her hair. At last, almost dizzy with nervous strain and fatigue, she turned back the bedcovers, took off the dressing gown and laid it on a chair. She pulled the big T-shirt over her head and turned off the bedside lamps, then slid thankfully into bed. Bed and breakfast after all, was her last waking thought.
She woke with a start, face wet and heart pounding at the sound of Jack’s frantic voice as he shook her gently. Her eyes widened in horror as she took in her surroundings. She was downstairs in the hall and Bran was barking frantically somewhere. Oh, God, she thought. Not now, not here!
‘I’m so s-sorry,’ she said through chattering teeth.
Jack slid out of his dressing gown, his face haggard as he wrapped it round her. ‘Put that on while I sort the dog out. Don’t move an inch until I get back.’
Kate tied the cord with shaking hands and found a handkerchief in one of the dressing gown pockets. She mopped her face and had composed herself slightly by the time Jack came back.
‘I left my bedroom door ajar, which is why I heard you crying,’ he said grimly. ‘You scared the hell out of me when I found you halfway down the stairs. But when you looked right through me my hair really stood on end. Tears were streaming down your face but your eyes were totally blank. Once I realised you were sleepwalking I was afraid to wake you, so I went down beside you, step by step, ready to grab you if you fell.’
‘I never fall,’ she said hoarsely.
Jack’s eyes narrowed. ‘You do this often?’
‘Occasionally, in times of stress.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s my own fault. I hardly slept last night after—after you left,and then I worked all day to finish painting. I was tired even before I arrived. Lucy was bitchy, and I got uptight with you over times past and on top of that I couldn’t go home because of the floods and—’She hesitated, biting her lip.
‘And the final straw was spending the night in Bluebeard’s castle. So in your subconscious you tried to escape,’ said Jack grimly.
She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing to do with this house, Jack, or escape.’
‘When did the sleepwalking start?’
‘Ages ago. But by the time I moved in with Anna I was more or less over it.’
His face hardened into bitter lines. ‘But one hour in bed in my house and you wanted out.’
Kate’s teeth began to chatter, and Jack’s eyes darkened with contrition. ‘You’re freezing. I’ll get you back to bed, then make you some more tea. Give me your hand.’
She let him lead her up the stairs, feeling contrite herself when she realised that Jack’s only garment was a pair of boxers. ‘You must be cold, too.’