The room had darkened, the little natural light the narrow window provided had gone. The candles on the table were lit casting a faint glow around the room. Gaia stood up, stretched and yawned, and took a seat at the table with the others. Aran gave a warm smile, the pale light of the candles giving his face a much more colourful hue. Aran seemed to be recovering, his spirits lifting with his growing strength. The rest had done him good. Freya played with a fork, looking agitated and unsettled. The sleep had not calmed her troubles or temper. Aran spoke. ‘Did you sleep well?’ ‘I did thanks, you?’ ‘Great.’ Gaia looked at Freya. ‘And you Freya?’ Freya kept twirling the fork in her fingers, stabbing the table. Without looking up she forced a response. ‘I didn’t sleep much. I’ll feel much better when we get out of here.’ Ridley entered the room with a serving bowl. It was heaped with mashed potatoes, steam still gushing from them.
