Page 12 of The Matchmaker
“And they’re definitely not in your pockets?”
“No.” Though I check again to make sure. “I dropped the coin in with my right hand, I had the keys in my left and then I heard you and then I freaked and then…”
I catch his eye and, as one, we turn to stare at the well.
“No,” I say.
“It’s a possibility.”
“I would have heard them fall.”
“Maybe not.” He rises to look into it, shining his light inside. “How deep is it?”
“I don’t know. Two hundred feet? Why? Are you going to climb down it?”
“No, but you must have some rope and bucket situation going on.”
“We don’t use it for water. I don’t think we’ve even had it checked.” And if they’re down there…I groan and spin away, heading over to the side of the pub. “Just give me a leg up.”
“What?”
“The keys are for the gate,” I explain, gesturing to the six-foot wooden slats blocking off the storage area. We put them up a few years ago when Adam finally got fed up with foxes burrowing in. I didn’t have the heart to tell him they’d have no problem climbing over it. “The shed inside should be unlocked.”
“Why isn’t the shed locked?”
“Because I’m in charge of locking it and I know I definitely forgot to do it last night.”
I come to a stop by our very penetrable wall and slip the phone into my pocket, plunging us into darkness once more.
“If you could just give me a boost, I’ll be able to— what are youdoing?”
Callum moves quicker than I expect, bending to grab my knees before lifting me into the air like I weigh nothing at all. I grab hold of the fence on instinct, scrambling to straddle the thing. Once I’m sure I’m not going to fall, I look down with a glare, but he’s already pulling himself up to join me.
“You don’t need to come too.”
“Then how will you get back?” he says, and I take his point as he climbs the fence easily, his movements suspiciously nimble.
“Please tell me you haven’t done this before,” I say, but he only winks before dropping down neatly to the other side. I stay where I am, wondering if I’m still a little sleep-deprived, but I don’t feel like I’ve lost any common sense. There are no alarm bells ringing, no twisting feeling in my gut telling me to run for the hills, and, knowing that Adam’s going to lose a whole night of business if he doesn’t get these torches, I ignore my new friend’s outstretched arms and climb down myself.
Callum lets out a low whistle when I open the shed door, adding his phone’s light to mine as we peer inside. “Remind me to come back here when the apocalypse happens.”
“We get a lot of blackouts,” I explain, pushing aside the camping gear, sandbags, and emergency supplies to find the box. “And sometimes the river on the other side of the village floods. We’ve learned the hard way to be more prepared around here.”
“I can see that.”
“Yeah, well.” I glance away from the large spider in the corner and pretend I don’t see it. “Yay, climate change.”
“Sure.”
I frown at his tone, distracted. “What do you mean, ‘sure’?”
“Nothing,” he says, as I pull the heavy box toward the door. “I’ve just never really believed in that stuff.”
I stop where I am, hunched over our prize like a little goblin. “Are you serious?”
“It’s just weather,” he shrugs. “Weather changes. I don’t know why everyone keeps freaking out about it.” He tries to take the box from me when I just stare at him, and I immediately tug it back.
“It’s how it’s changing that matters,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “And it’s changing far too fast.”
