“That was an uncomfortable night,” she complained. “I think I prefer my own bed.”She slid out of her sleeping bag, muttering, “It’s so cold.”“The power’s still down by the looks of things,” Sebastian said, trying one of the light switches.“Oh great,” she sighed. “The romance is beginning to wear off. I thought it would have been back on by now.”She knelt down in front of the hearth and began making an effort to get another fire going. Kindling, firelighters, scrunched-up newspapers and logs.Granny Hughes looked in on them on her way downstairs. She grunted and shook her head. She was feeling miserable because of the cold and the extra work this would entail.“Hello, Granny,” Fiona called. “Did you sleep alright?”“Aye. Right enough.”“The fire was cosy.”“Glad to hear it.”“But the power’s still off.”“I noticed!” she responded. “Don’t know how I’m supposed to cook and clean under these conditions,” she muttered to herself, plodding down the stairs to begin work.
