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I pottered about while we waited for the food to arrive, sorting out plates and cutlery and glasses of water. Jasper looked more comfortable, and flicked through the movies on Netflix while I busied myself in the kitchen.
“Found it,” he said. “Independence Day, the original. You have to watch it, Caitlin. Will Smith, Jeff Goldblum, and aliens. What’s not to like?”
His good humor made me smile. I’d already decided to make the most of this evening and enjoy it for what it was. How often would have I have the pleasure of spending it with someone as adorable as Jasper? He wasn’t just beyond hot to look at, he was also kind and generous, and my stomach did little flips when he was near.
The way he teased me was the same as the way he spoke to Holly. He probably saw me as another sister. Nothing more—and I had to remember that. I could crush on him, but it would be one-sided.
Jasper was more suited to the sylph-like blonde in the bar last night. I could picture them together. Running on the beach... Working out together in Jasper’s gym...
He was only spending some time with me, because he was in too much pain for me to drive home. I pushed away the uncomfortable thoughts. I wanted to enjoy his company, not battle my demons all evening.
The buzz of someone at the door made for a great distraction. A soaking wet delivery-man stood there, a steaming brown paper bag in his hand.
“It’s still raining?” I asked.
He snorted with amusement. “You think? Enjoy your food.”
I heard the rain against the living room window when I went back in there. It had intensified in the last half-hour, and the wind had risen too. My little apartment felt cold, and I switched on the electric heat pump and closed the curtains against the gloomy weather.
“Dinner smells good,” said Jasper. “Can I help with anything?”
“Thanks, but no. Stay where you are.” I served up portions of the fragrant chicken curry, with fluffy roti and spoonfuls of the eye-wateringly spicy pickle that was the specialty of the restaurant.
With our plates on our laps, we settled down to eat and watch the movie. To my surprise, I enjoyed it. I loved the flashes of comedy, and soon found myself caught up in the story.
Jasper’s phone pinged with a text from Holly, and he read it aloud. “Hey. Can you stay in town tonight? A landslip is blocking SH1, and half of Wellington is flooded-slash-lost power. Are you both okay?”
With the TV volume up for the movie, I hadn’t noticed the wind howling, but now I realized it sounded bad. The city was used to stormy weather, and small landslips were common, if inconvenient.
“I already said you can stay the night,” I said.
“Thanks.” His thumbs flew over the screen of his phone, and he spoke as he typed. “Cheers, Sis. Yeah, I’ll stay with Caitlin. All good here. See ya.”
I took the opportunity to clear away the remnants of dinner and put the leftovers in the fridge, before settling down on the sofa again. Will Smith, Jeff Goldblum, and the rest of the cast were fleeing into the sky in Air Force One, and it was edge-of-the-seat action.
Jasper looked at me. “Good, huh?”
The screen went black. The soft glow from the uplighter disappeared. The apartment was silent. No hum from the heat pump. Nothing, until a heartbeat later came the sound of someone hurling a bucket of gravel at the windows. Hail.
“Shit.” When the power tripped like this, it normally came back on a couple of seconds later. Not this time.
Jasper fumbled for his phone and turned on the flashlight. It cast a bright glow around the room.
“It might be a fuse,” I said, “but I have candles and battery-powered lamps anyway. Give me a minute to grab something.” My first move was to tug the curtains open, onto a sea of blackness. No street lights. No shops lit up, and no welcoming glow from behind the neighbors’ curtains. This was bigger than just my fuse box. After Holly’s text I wasn’t surprised. “I spoke too soon.” I tried to sound confident and amused, and failed.
“Eh, it’s just an outage. It happens.” Jasper didn’t sound bothered, and I envied his calm.
There weren’t words to describe how I hated the lights going out. Fear uncoiled in my belly at the memory of the earthquake. My heart raced, and I fought to take a deep breath.
I could see my way around the room. My emergency kit was in a box in the kitchen, a few steps away. “Lift your phone and point it into the kitchen,” I said.
He did, and I stumbled the scant distance, like I was taking part in a cross-country race.
The sturdy plastic tub was where I’d left it, and moments later I unclipped the lid and retrieved the first of the two camping lanterns, along with a cellophane pack of fresh batteries. My fingers slipped on the opening, and I cursed.
“You okay?” Jasper sounded curious, rather than concerned.
“I hate outages. I hate the dark.”
He laughed softly. “You wouldn’t like living up the coast, then. They’re a regular feature of beach life.”
His steady voice soothed my jangled nerves a fraction. This wasn’t too bad. I wasn’t alone. Not like last time.
I ripped the package open, shoved the batteries into the slot, and flicked the switch. Light poured out, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Next to come out of the box were tealight candles in their holders and a box of long-stemmed matches. My heart still galloped along, as though I’d completed a marathon, but the panic receded.
I had light. I had company.
It wasn’t another earthquake.