He was sat beneath the duvet,
with a steaming mug of coffee beside him as he amused himself on his tablet,
using one of his many power banks to keep it charged.
As he was often out and about on the island, and he was quite
paranoid about any of his devices running out of power.
That paranoia was paying dividends during the power cut.
Deborah messaged him just
after 10 o’clock to say she was on her way home after an 18-hour shift.
One of the patients needed a
medevac to the mainland so they took the opportunity to fly the stranded medics
to the island at the same time.
When she returned home and entered the lounge, she saw him sitting
on the sofa under a duvet in the semi darkness and said
“So the power is off here too then”
“I’m afraid so” he replied
“Damn, I was really looking forward to a hot shower before bed”
“Well would a hot drink and
something to eat help?” he said
“No
thanks as I can't have a shower, I think I'll go straight to bed” she said
forlornly
“I can offer you a hot bath”
he said
“Really?”
“Oh yes”
“You darling man” she
responded
“But how?”
“I used the back boiler
behind the fireplace” Stuart replied
“Genius” Deborah said
“I would never have thought
of that”
“I’ll run a bath then ma’am”
Stuart said
“And I'll take my tea with me
Cameron” she said in an affected voice
“Yes ma’am” he said, tugging
his forelock “I’ll make it immediately ma’am”
Half an hour later Deborah emerged from the bathroom, after her
long relaxing bath, dressed in her bed clothes.
“I've done you a hot water bottle,” said Stuart
“You darling man” she responded as she approached him
“But I can think of something better than that which will keep us
both warm”
Then
Deborah kissed him slowly and
deliberately and then she led him by the hand into her room and closed the
door.
Molly was very pleased to see
snow on the island again, but she was not so pleased that the Christmas lights
weren’t working because of the island wide power cut and made a note to herself
to investigate having emergency generators installed in the village.
When Deborah woke up on
Saturday evening, she didn't give a second thought to the weather and she
didn’t care a jot about the power cuts, all she cared about was enjoying the
fact that she had finally got her man, and all being well she would be off for the
best part of four days, followed by four day shifts and another four off days
which by her calculation meant she had eleven nights of sharing a bed with
Stuart, before he would be sleeping alone again.
While Deborah and Stuart were
smugly laying in the afterglow, life was going on elsewhere on the island, but
not always in the same satisfactory manner as in Manor Road.
A good case in point was the Vicar of St Joan of Arc St Pierre, Matthew Lines, who slipped on the wintry
pavement and broke his hip, which left his young Curate, Cheryl Mackender, on
the spot the day before the business period in the St Joan of Arc’s calendar,
thankfully she had Lee Barnaby, the verger, to lean on for support which suited
her down to the ground.
Reverend Lines wasn’t the
only one to fall victim to the wintry conditions, 32-year-old Fisherman, Conrad
Watts, also fell heavily, but was relatively unscathed so was more fortunate
than the Vicar and had no broken bones, possibly because Conrad was younger and
was perhaps saved by the fact, he was quite relaxed at the time having spent
Saturday evening in the Sword and Shield.
He and his crew had been
letting off steam while the fishing fleet were confined to port by the bad
weather.
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