Page 25 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume

Instead, I grab the duvet off the bed and wrap myself in it, wandering back into the living room like a human igloo. I can hear Danny in the kitchen as the kettle begins to boil, accompanied by the sound of him filling Jacob Marley’s food bowl.

I curl up on the soft in the opposite corner from Dusty so I don’t have to crane my neck to speak to her. Snuggling down into my soft, comfortable bedding, I let my aching head rest against the soft cushions behind me.

I’m just dozing off when Danny heads back into the room and over to me, holding a mug of tea in one hand and paracetamol in the other.

“Thank you,” I tell him gratefully and swallow the pills. I take a sip of my tea to wash them down, not caring that it’s just this side of slightly too hot.

He smiles as he wanders back out of the room. I hear a notification ping somewhere close by and stick my hand down between the cushions, coming up with Danny’s phone. The screen lights up as I touch it and I see the preview of a message.

“Danny,” I call out as my brow furrows. “Did you book a hotel?”

“What?” he asks as he enters the room once again. This time he’s pulled one of his old hoodies on and has a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Did you book a hotel?” I repeat and he pauses and frowns.

“Uh… I don’t know, did I?” he replies.

“Can I unlock your phone?” I ask as he heads toward the sofa.

“Sure.” He lowers himself to the cushions next to me and sighs in relief.

I open his phone and scroll through the message. “You have a booking confirmation for”—I squint and move the phone a little closer—“the Ashton-Drake Manor House.” I read slowly.

“Where?” He looks at me blankly.

“According to this, last night you booked a hotel for us in Yorkshire.”

“Yorkshire?” he repeats, his expression unreadable.

“Yeah, that’s what it says. Looks like it’s literally in the middle of nowhere,” I murmur as I look at the pictures. “It’s gorgeous though. It may say Manor House Hotel, but it looks like a castle. It says here it was built in 1740, although it underwent major renovations in the early nineteenth century.”

“That’s perfect!” Dusty exclaims enthusiastically and I wince at her loud chipper tone. “That’s just what you both need, a romantic weekend away!”

“When is it booked for?” Danny asks.

“It’s… oh,” I say quietly.

“What?”

“It’s booked for a long weekend from the twenty-eighth of December through to the second of January,” I tell him. “That means from tomorrow.”

“It’s okay.” Danny takes the phone back and my stomach swoops. “We can cancel. I know you don’t want to be away from your dad right now.”

“No, wait.” I place my hand over his as he goes to swipe on the booking.

“What is it?”

“I…” My stomach continues to churn. It could just be the alcohol from last night, but it’s more like a writhing mix of want and responsibility.

That hotel looks gorgeous, and Danny and I almost never get the chance to go away and spend time together just the two of us. For a second, a memory of last night bleeds through the blurriness. I remember telling him I wanted to get away, just me and him, no murders, no ghosts, just quality time. But no matter how desperately I want to go, I’m consumed with guilt at the thought of leaving Dad while he’s poorly, even if it is just a cold. For someone as frail as Dad is now, just a cold can easily turn into something more serious.

“Tris,” Dusty says gently, drawing my attention from Danny. My hand still rests on his to stop him from pulling up the booking I know I should let him cancel. “Tris,” Dusty says again. “It’s alright to want to go. I know you want to be here for your dad, but you need to live your life too. If it helps, I’ll watch over him and it’s only for a weekend.”

I’m torn as I turn my attention back to Danny, who’s watching me with unlimited patience.

“I want to go,” I whisper and his eyes widen in surprise.

“We don’t have to.” Danny replies. “There will be other times.”