Get yerself up and we’ll be away. We’ll get a good breakfast at the farm if we shift ourselves. Come on, sleepy head, it’s the start of a new day.” Maggie awakened to see Jack hovering at the side of the bed. His tousled hair glinting in the light of the lantern he was holding, his clothes all crumpled as he had slept in them again. He was sporting a grin from ear to ear as he watched her droopy eyed and trembling, woken up startled from a sleep that was deep and satisfying. She stumbled into the lean to and splashed her face with icy, tooth chattering water, then ran her new brush through her long, tangled hair. Jack had topped up the fire with slow burning elder, so the room was still cosy from the night before. She listened to the wind that was howling around the chimney and wished she could stay in the cottage instead. Maybe she could plead a chill or a headache, perhaps Jack would take pity on her if she said she was getting a cold? She turned to see him watching, as she stood at her ablutions in her lacy drawers.
