‘No, I would not. We could be here for a year,’ he returned shortly.
Maggie hid a smile.
‘But what you could do is scout around for an extension cord. The nearest power point is too far from the door—’ He stopped abruptly and looked frustrated.
‘There’s power!’ she assured him. ‘And water. I checked.’
He looked relieved this time, but in no better humour. ‘OK. Start looking for a cord.’
Maggie resisted the temptation to salute and say, Yes, sir! And she toned down her triumph when she found an extension cord on top of the kitchen cupboard.
An hour later, his mood was even worse. There were no spare blades for the saw and the one in it was blunt.
‘This thing wouldn’t cut butter,’ he said, having succeeded in cutting no more than a shallow, six- inch-long groove in the door. He threw it aside in disgust.
It was dark by now and the only light was from a single bulb suspended from the rafters. Its thin glow didn’t reach the corners of the shed, and the mice, having decided they weren’t under threat from the humans who had invaded their space, were on the move again.
Maggie had made tea an hour ago, then coffee a few minutes previously. She now stared down into the dark depths of her cup, and shivered. ‘We’re not going to get out of here tonight, are we?’
He came over to the table and pulled out a chair. ‘No, Miss Trent, we are not. Not unless whoever is moonlighting in this shed comes home.’
‘So you agree someone is doing that?’
‘Was there power connected to the house?’
Maggie thought swiftly. ‘No. That’s strange, isn’t it? On here but not up there.’
‘Whoever they are, they may have found a way to tap into the grid illegally.’ He suddenly slammed his fist onto the table in a gesture of frustration.
‘I…’ she looked at him fleetingly ‘… I do apologize.’
‘So you bloody well should.’
He had wood shavings in his hair and he brushed them off his shirt. There were streaks of dust on his trousers.
‘You don’t have to swear.’
‘Yes, I do,’ he contradicted. He looked at his hands. They were filthy and several knuckles were grazed. ‘Would you like to know what I’d be doing now if I wasn’t incarcerated here? I’ll tell you.’
He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d just be arriving at my hotel in Sydney where I’d shout myself a sundowner and have a shower. Then I’d order a medium-rare pepper steak with Idaho potatoes, maybe some rock oysters to start with and a cheese platter to follow. I feel sure I’d wash it all down with…’ he stared at her reflectively ‘… a couple of glasses of a decent red, then maybe some Blue Mountain coffee.’
Maggie flinched inwardly and couldn’t think of a thing to say.
‘How about you?’ he queried.
She thought for a moment. ‘Toasted cheese with a salad and an early night,’ she said briefly.
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘That sounds very bachelor girl.’
‘I am a bachelor girl.’
‘A very well-heeled one by the same token,’ he murmured.
Maggie started to feel less embarrassed and guilty. ‘Don’t start on all that again,’ she warned.
‘Why shouldn’t I? If you were an ordinary girl rather than ultra-privileged, and if you were without strong, unreasonable prejudices, I wouldn’t be here.’
‘Listen, mate, you offered the first insult!’
‘Ah, yes, so I did.’ He grinned reminiscently. ‘I take nothing back.’
‘Neither do I. But you,’ she accused, ‘went on doing it.’
He shrugged. ‘You have to admit it was a rather bizarre situation to find myself in.’
Maggie frowned. ‘What did you mean there being two sides to that coin? The one about me hating powerful, arrogant men or words to that effect?’
‘Sometimes,’ he said reflectively, ‘girls are secretly attracted to power and arrogance in men even if they don’t like to admit it.’
‘I am not one of those, assuming they exist and are not a figment of your imagination,’ Maggie stated.
He grinned. ‘Very well, ma’am. And it doesn’t make you at all nervous to be locked in here with me in our current state of discord?’