Free Once by James Herbert Page A

A little too sharply.
    She froze, but the smile remained on her lips and in her eyes.
    ‘Uh, sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘I can manage. Got to get use to it. My physio told me the more I persist, the easier it’ll become.’ He shuffled his feet as if the stone floor was cold. ‘Look, thanks for the food. I…’
    ‘Oh, I’m here to cook for you. Hugo wants me to build you up again. He told me you used to be quite athletic when you two were boys. I bet you both got into mischief, didn’t you?’
    ‘Honestly, I can manage. I don’t need a nursemaid.’ It came out with more annoyance than he intended; he hadn’t meant to snub such kind consideration.
    If she took any offence, it didn’t show. ‘Nobody’s nursemaidin’ you, Thom. I’m just bein’ a good neighbour, is all.’
    He raised his eyebrows in surprise. You live close by?’
    She had already turned towards the cooker to switch on its grill and a ring. ‘Not far,’ she replied over her shoulder. ‘Now, how would bacon and eggs suit you? You could cut the loaf if you want to be helpful. Have some fruit first -there’s apples, plums, all nice and freshly picked. We’ll soon have you feelin’ well again.’
    He could only watch helplessly as Nell busied herself by taking two eggs and plastic-sealed bacon from the fridge, which had been well stocked - by her? - before his arrival yesterday. Once preparations were under way, she pulled a small transistor radio from the basket and placed it on the table, pressing a button so that music instantly filled
    the cottage with new and, because the set was pre-tuned to Classic FM, unobtrusive life. She adjusted the volume so that the music was background noise that would not interfere with conversation.
    Realizing resistance was pointless, Thom said, ‘I think I’ll just wash and shave first.’
    Again smiling, and with that same amused little gleam in her dark eyes, she waved a dismissive hand. ‘Don’t be takin’ too long now, you should always eat breakfast nice and hot. Put some shoes or slippers on too - this stone floor will still be mornin’ cold.’
    Thom backed towards the door, aware of the silly grin on his face, but unable to rid himself of it for the moment, a hand unconsciously flicking hair away from his forehead again.
    As he closed the door behind him and paused outside, he heard the music’s volume turned up again. Nell Quick was a great surprise to him and he wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed or grateful for Hugo’s presumption that he would need a nursemaid. He decided he could only be bemused.
    He crowded into the bathroom - it was so compact that one person did, indeed, constitute a crowd - and stood over the toilet, his combats unzipped in the two strides it took to get there. As he relieved his bladder, which had been protesting dully throughout the morning’s exchange, Thom remembered the creature he thought he had seen dashing for cover earlier. He looked at the floor around him as he peed, squinting into the darker corners and niches. He was soon wondering if he had imagined the whole thing. After all, he’d been roused from a deep sleep by the persistent knocking at the door and in truth had not been properly awake as he’d staggered down the stairs, half-blinded by sunlight, and brain busy with other thoughts. Maybe it had been a trick of the light, maybe just a figment of his overstretched imagination, or a remnant of whatever dream he’d been having. He would make a thorough search later,
    see if there were any holes in the floorboards or skirting that a small house pest could squeeze into. But had it been that small? He thought not, but nevertheless dismissed the matter from his mind. By the time he had finished shaving and washing, the episode was almost forgotten.
    He went back up to the bedroom, most of the stiffness gone from his arm and leg, and slipped on a pair of soft moccasins he’d bought from a pricey Covent Garden shop.
    He was still sitting on the