Page 23 of Sad Girl Hours

Chapter Twenty-three

Nell

“ Hmnnnghh? ” is the very demure sound I make as I bolt upright in the morning when the door opens, and a baffled-looking gentleman stares down at me and Saffron curled up on the storage-room floor.

“Um…” Saffron starts, and something in my brain clicks into place, sending me into action mode.

“Hello, sir.” I stand up and stretch out my hand.

He takes it, very unwillingly, and lets me give it a shake.

“You’re probably wondering what we’re doing here.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he says, his (real) moustache twitching. I realise that my (fake) moustache is now stuck to the side of my face.

“We got lost last night looking for a bathroom and came in here, realised our mistake and tried to leave. Unfortunately, the door locked behind us and we were rendered with no option but to sleep here, on the floor of your fine establishment.”

“That’s why we keep the door propped open. And,” he says, walking over to the desk and opening the drawer, “why we keep a spare key in here. So that no one has to sleep on the floor .”

There’s a beat of silence while I just stare down at the key in his hand. I flick my eyes back up to him. He remains unamused.

“Right. I see. Well,” I bluster, “we’d best be getting back to our group.

Thank you so much for your hospitality. We’ll be sure to leave you a five-star review.

Well, maybe four point five: it was a tad draughty.

Saffron?” I call down to where she’s still sitting, watching this unfold. “We’re leaving now.”

I walk out of the door, Saffron close behind. I hear her whisper “sorry” to the man.

When she catches up to me, I say, “I can’t believe there was a key in the drawer the whole time. I love escape rooms – I can’t believe I didn’t think to put my puzzling brain on.” I was much too busy trying to puzzle out what was going on with Saffron.

Speaking of – when we approach the door back into the main hall, I pause and turn to Saffron. She looks pale – or at least paler than usual (she’s always got that waifish thing going for her).

“You OK?” I say. “Ready to face the music?”

She nods.

In the hall, everyone’s packing up their things, ready to leave. Our group are still in the corner. I walk up to them with a, “Hey, guys!”

Vivvie turns to face us, throwing her hands up in the air. “Oh BUENO, they’re not dead.”

“Um … no?” Saffron says.

“See, I told you.” Jenna turns to Casper before focusing on us again. “He was very concerned that a vengeful ghost had murdered you.”

“I had a nightmare about it and everything,” he says soberly. “Nell accidentally insulted his ghostly garb, and he made you and Saffron pay. Dearly.”

“He murdered us because I insulted his outfit?” I say in disbelief. “Grow a spine, mate.”

“Probably not the best thing to say to a ghost,” Saffron adds, beginning to pack up her things.

“See what I mean!” Casper’s blue eyes are wide. “If you were in a confrontation with a phantom, you’d definitely be dead before morning. As it is, I’m very glad that you’re not —”

He accepts a half hug from Saffron.

“But where were you then, if you weren’t dead?” Vivvie asks.

“Yes,” Jenna joins in. “We saw you go through the staff door, which is why we didn’t tell anyone we were worried about you. We didn’t want to get you into shit. But what were you doing?” she asks.

“We got locked in a storage room,” I say. “We slept on the floor, surrounded by boxes of stationery.”

“Very cosy,” Vivvie says. “But why did you even—”

“Don’t push it,” I mutter quietly to her. “Not right now.”

Vivvie’s eyes narrow, not a fan of being told what to do, but she drops it all the same.

As we’re funnelled through the courtyard out into the grey light of morning, the others engaged in conversation about the events of the night before, I say to Saffron, “What are you doing today?”

“Today? I’m not sure.”

“Well, no pressure, but the pumpkin patch is still open. We could go and get our pumpkins to carve ready for tonight. If you wanted? Happy Halloween, by the way.”

“Happy Halloween,” she says back automatically, but then she stops, grabbing my arm. “Oh wow, it’s Halloween . Your favourite holiday. I can’t believe you spent the first part of your favourite holiday locked in a storage room with me. I’m so sorry.”

I shrug. “That’s OK.”

Saffron shakes her head so violently that her flaxen curls fly wildly around in the October air. “No, it’s not. You didn’t get to see the day in in the dungeon, not really. You were separated from the others, and from Harpreet—”

I don’t really see the relevance of Harpreet. I’ll see her at uni later in the week.

“—and stuck with me. You’ve not got pumpkins, or any of the other things you wanted to do—”

I decide to cut the spiral off there. “Saff, chill. It’s literally fine.

I had an oddly nice time being stuck in the storage room with you – even if my butt isn’t thanking me.

I don’t mind that we weren’t in the main room; we really did have an authentic locked-in experience.

Honest,” I add, seeing Saffron still fretting.

“I always have a nice time with you regardless of our location. And besides, as far as the other stuff goes, there’s still time.

It’s a blessed class-free day, and I have no work to do really… ”

I’m not thinking about the poems I have to edit/write before my next meeting with Becks.

“I can fill my whole day with Halloween fun. And, should anyone else want to join me, I would swear not to make them talk about anything not relating to pumpkins. It would be pure pumpkin fun, all day.”

Saffron’s quiet for a few seconds, considering this, before she answers determinedly, her chin slightly tilted towards the sky.

“Yes. Obviously you were talking generally and not aiming your remarks at anyone in particular, but I would like to join you. I would like to help you have your perfect Halloween.”

I beam at her. “Excellent. For our first stop, how does getting changed out of our costumes and making cinnamon pumpkin pancakes sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” Saffron says without pause.

I wonder whether she’s really that eager, or if she’s still beating herself up for ‘ruining’ my Halloween morning and will agree to anything I say.

I’m starting to wish I could open up her head and give her brain a) a poke to tell it to stop being so mean to her, and b) a little kiss and tell it it’s trying its best.

I’d tell Saffron that but I promised to keep things light today. We’re going to have a fun day and we’re going to get back on track with the bucket list.

“Hey, guys!” I yell to the others. They stop and tuck themselves into a corner to let other people pass. “We’re going to go to mine and Jenna’s to make pumpkin pancakes and then do some other pumpkin-related activities in prep for tonight. You in?”

Vivvie shakes her head. “Lo siento. My day’s plans involve getting off all of this –” she gestures down at her still grey body – “and sleeping. And then some more sleeping. Mrs Danvers here kept us up most of the night with her fretting.”

“And screeching like a goddamn banshee whenever the lights were turned off,” Jenna adds.

“I was just trying to add to the spooky vibes.” Casp looks wounded.

“So, I think we’ll rain-check on the pancakes,” Jenna says. “Catch up on our beauty sleep. God knows some of us need it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Vivvie says, taking her turn to look wounded. “I’m always fabulous, even on three hours’ sleep.”

Jenna just laughs. “We’ll see you tonight, though?”

“Definitely,” Saffron says. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

We part ways from the others who are all heading back to the other house to rest (including Jenna…) and I lead Saffron back to mine.

As usual, Bailey is nowhere to be seen, but there’s a new dirty pan in the sink. I swear the girl’s a raccoon, just sneaking around at night.

“So, are pumpkin pancakes a Halloween staple in the Holloway household?” Saffron asks, dodging out of the way as I get ingredients out of my baking cupboard.

“Are they!” I answer enthusiastically. “Every Halloween morning, baby. Usually in the shape of pumpkins or bats, but I don’t have the moulds with me here, so we’ll have to settle for boring old round ones.”

“Ugh,” Saffron says. “How could you dangle such things in front of me and then make me settle for boring old round ones? It’s frankly an insult to Halloween.”

“I’ll make it up to you. And to Halloween,” I say, starting to weigh my ingredients out. “I’ve got a few ideas for today.”

“Which are?”

“Pancakes first,” I say. “The ideas are still percolating.”

“Oh well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt such an important process as ‘percolation’.”

“Very wise.”

It does feel a bit like things are mostly back to normal this morning.

We’ve struck our usual balance of me saying unhinged things and Saffron entertaining me saying those things.

She films the pancake process – including my failed attempt at a freehand bat-shaped one that she claims she loves more than if he’d come out looking like a perfect pipistrelle – and we laugh and joke around like we used to.

But it’s not completely normal. I know for sure now what I’ve always suspected. More’s going on for Saffron than she’s ever let on to me – to any of us. She is keeping us at a distance, and she’s doing it for a reason.