It had hitched up, somehow, and now she was pressed against the wall. And she must have kicked off her duvet, too, she was so cold. Amelia gave up trying to reach for them with her eyes shut and sat up. There was no pillow, and no duvet, either. She wasn’t even in her bed. Amelia clutched the hairy brown blanket, the only thing that seemed familiar, and tried to work out where she was. Slowly, it came back to her – that she’d gone upstairs to the attic. She must have fallen asleep in that battered old armchair. But it didn’t feel like she was still curled up there – the chair was comfy, even if it was falling apart. Now it felt as if she was sitting on straw.She peered through the dimness, trying to see where she was. It had to be morning – she could see chinks of light showing round the door, over on the other side of the little room. But if she was in the attic, there would be light coming through the windows in the roof. Had she gone sleepwalking, and found her way to another room of the house?
