Free Moon Song by Elen Sentier

joint hug the rain-cape fell off, Mark retreated with her into the big hall.
    ‘Stay there.’ He let go of her. ‘I’ll grab your bags. Is the boot unlocked?’
    ‘Here.’ She pushed the key into his hand.
    Standing, watching, as he pulled bags out of the boot with the rain streaming off him, she wondered what was going to happen. The hug had been electric, knocking her off balance, him too she felt. She applauded as he locked the car and raced back to the door, dropping the suitcase onto the flags, putting her laptop carefully on the table then shaking himself like an otter. His black hair was plastered down on his skull, rain dripped off his nose. They both burst out laughing.
    ‘Proper Cornish weather to greet you.’ His voice was warm as he pushed the wet hair off his face and searched for a handkerchief. ‘But it’ll perk up tomorrow. Should be a good, bright day.’
    ‘I don’t mind.’ She was grinning ridiculously as she looked him over.
    ‘I know.’ He grinned back, ‘I look like a wet dog.’
    ‘Or an otter,’ she said softly.
    ‘Nice one! C’mon, let’s get you up to your room, you can shower, change, rest, while I clean up. Dinner won’t be long. Shout when you’re ready and I’ll show you where the library is and all that. The house is very higgledy-piggledy, easy to get lost in.’
    She followed him up the stairs and round the gallery to a large bedroom. A fire was going nicely in the grate, the woodscenting up the room. ‘Oh!’ She stopped in the doorway, staring. ‘I’ve never had a fire in my bedroom before, never even been in a room like this, it’s gorgeous.’
    Mark found himself blushing, his efforts to make it nice rewarded. He put her bag on the oak chest at the end of the bed along with her laptop. ‘The bathroom’s through here.’ He opened a door.
    She followed him. The bathroom was cosy and warm with a window that looked out into the evening, big fluffy towels called invitingly to her. She came back into the bedroom. ‘I think I do need to clean up. The drive was longer than I expected what with all the lorries and the rain. And you certainly do!’ She was laughing.
    ‘Too right! I’ll see you in half an hour or so.’ He backed out of the door.
    Isoldé found herself blushing. It was a strange, slightly out of control feeling. He felt it too, she could see that, like in a car when you were learning to drive, being too heavy on both accelerator and brake. Slowly she walked round the room, touching the furniture, feeling her way into the place. For a moment, she sat down on the faded sofa, it was comfortable, not over-stuffed, wide enough to relax into and look out of one of the windows. Mark had put on the bedside lights so the room was softly lit, she could see out of the window rather than just mirror blackness. Raindrops snaked down the pane making twisty patterns, sometimes splitting and spreading. Eyes half shut, Isoldé found she was watching faces grow and dissolve in the raindrop shapes. A wizened face grew out of one big drop spreading sideways, the eyes sharp, shining, looking straight at her. Her own eyes opened wide. The face was really there, looking at her, she saw the mouth move and words formed in her head.
    ‘Welcome!’ The mouth smiled along with the eyes. ‘Waited long for you, we has.’
    The rain fell faster obliterating the face. Isoldé stared as itdisappeared, the drops becoming just rain. A log popped in the fire jerking her awake. The room was warm, comfortable, she noticed the flowers, the curtains, the pictures. Slowly she brought herself fully conscious again. Time for a shower, she thought, pushing back the memory of the face.
    Determinedly, she unpacked her bag, hanging things in the old tallboy and putting underwear on the shelves. She took her wash bag into the bathroom and turned the shower on. It was one of the enormous types you get in big hotels, nearly a foot across, pouring hot water down onto you in a flood. He’d left