of Only Fools and Horses.
The hands of the clock were now edging towards ten. My goodness, Charlie was going to be knackered. Poor love. He worked so hard. Willow pointed the remote at the telly. A moment later and the screen went black. Standing up, she stretched, listening to her spine crack as the vertebrae unkinked. She hadn’t bothered to draw the curtains. Outside the sky was as dark as a demon’s heart. Rain had lashed the windows all evening.
Wandering into the gloom of the kitchen, she dumped her cup and plate in the sink. She’d wash them up in the morning. A rumble sounded overhead, and Willow cringed. Of all the things that frightened her, a storm was top of the list. Her fear of thunder and lightning was even greater than spiders.
Moments later, the kitchen was bathed in a harsh, bright glow. Whimpering, she pressed the flat of her hand against the light switch. Instantly the shadows fell away. Another grumble reverberated through the heavens. When Willow had been a child, her mum had tried to lessen her storm phobia by laughing it off. Anita West had cheerfully told her daughter that the noise was only God moving his furniture around in Heaven. But five-year-old Willow hadn’t believed the story. If God had a house in the sky, how come she couldn’t see it?
Another streaky zigzag forked through the atmosphere, lighting up the garden beyond the kitchen window. Willow lunged for the cord to the kitchen blind, wrenching it downwards. She knew she wouldn’t be happy until the curtains in every single room had been closed, keeping the flashing in abeyance. If she put in her earbuds and listened to some loud music, it would drown out the sound of the storm. Between the house’s black-out blinds and Harry Styles’ latest album, she might just be able to kid herself the outside weather was nothing more than a bit of drizzle. The buds were on her bedside table.
Willow made to leave the kitchen but, just as she was about to turn off the light, the room was plunged into darkness. She gave a squeak of alarm. Oh no. A power cut. She wasn’t particularly scared of the dark, but thanks to drawing the downstairs curtains, she now couldn’t see a thing. Another crash came from above. Dear God. Never mind Him upstairs moving his furniture about, right now it sounded like a bunch of explosive experts demolishing a high-rise block of flats.
Trying to ignore the fear prickling her scalp, she stuck her hands out in front of her. Negotiating the kitchen doorway, Willow edged through the gap and then felt her way along the hall. Had she left her mobile in the lounge? It had a built-in torch. Willow debated whether to look for it. She couldn’t be certain it wasn’t tucked into one of the sofa’s cushions, or even somewhere on the floor. In fact, was it in the lounge at all?
A fresh rumble was building momentum and Willow gave another squeal of fear. All she wanted was to slide under the duvet, pull it over her head and quietly shake. But to do that, she needed to get up the stairs. She gulped at the prospect of blindly negotiating a staircase.
Fumbling her way along the hall, she tried to keep her mind calm, but her brain was having none of it. It kept projecting huge images of monsters lurking round corners, goblins hiding in cupboards, and demons waiting to pounce.
There was another crash, as if a huge oak were being felled. Squeaking like a mouse with a cat after it, Willow edged forward only to painfully stub her toe against the bottom stair tread. Dropping to all fours, she began to climb slowly and carefully upward. By the time she’d reached the landing, her heart was thumping erratically and a slick of perspiration was beading her upper lip.
‘Come on, Willow,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Pull yourself together.’
Keeping down on all fours, she shuffled towards her bedroom.
‘You’re nearly there. Well done. That’s it. Keep going, keep… owwwww!’
She yelped as her head thumped against something. The blasted door was shut. Feeling her way upright, she leant against the doorframe, taking a moment for the pain in her forehead to subside. Steadying herself, she lowered the door handle. Inching her way into the room, another flash of lightning lit up her surroundings and she was relieved to quickly glimpse both her earbuds and mobile by the bed. As the