THE RAT A short story by Ashley Stokes part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

Dominic can't turn around and look at her. Perched on the edge of the bed, he fixes on the splayed jeans and inside-out jumpers, her twisted bra, his boxer shorts and concertinaed socks. He would leave now, make apologies, excuses, but it's three o'clock in the morning. The village is 40 miles from home and she can't get back without him. Rain gusts against the window pane and the thick, flinty walls of the farm house.

Lauren snuggles into his back, murmuring. She's about to say something and he doesn't want her to say it. He's trying to work out why these things change so quickly, how one minute all you want is her, but then, afterwards . . . he can't remember ever feeling as gutted as this.

She mutters again. Her skin is bed-warm and sweaty. His shoulders are cold. This house is freezing. Nobody lives here anymore. She is kissing his neck. He turns, suddenly. She is smiling, with that smitten, drowsy expression again. Two thick buttery fronds of hair are stamped against her forehead, peach-coloured in the lamplight.

'What's that sound?' he says. 'Downstairs.' He stands up and steps away from the bed. 'Can't you hear it? Downstairs.'

'Dominic,' she sighs. 'What are you like?'

'Shhhh, there it is again.' He tugs on his jeans and slips his T-shirt over his head. 'Shhh . . . stay there.'

'Oh Dom.' She falls back and giggles. 'There's nothing in the woodshed.'

'I knew I shouldn't have given you Cold Comfort Farm,' he says, knowing damn well that she didn't read it.

'Come back to bed,' she says. Before she can complain further, he rounds the bed and is out in the dark corridor.

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