Pictures of Lily Read Free Page A

kill you.
    I tentatively step down from the bed and snatch up a nearby trainer to use as a weapon. Feeling hopelessly vulnerable in my bare feet, I tread carefully towards the door as I keep my eyes peeled for dark spidery legs pressed up against the skirting board.
    Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I don’t know if it went out of the door or if it’s still lurking somewhere in the bedroom with me. The only thing I do know for certain, I think to myself as I climb uneasily into bed, is that I won’t be sleeping well tonight.

Chapter 2
     
    Five a.m. That’s not too bad, all things considered. I did wake up at three, vaguely needing to go to the toilet, but I’ve managed to hang on because there was no way in hell I was going to go traipsing down the corridor in the dark when there are life-sucking arachnids lurking about. Now I climb out of bed and put on my trainers before making my way to the bathroom. Mum’s bedroom door is ajar. I wonder if she’s awake too? I push open the door and peer inside. The bed is empty, still neatly made in all its murky-orange and mustard-yellow bedspready glory.
    So she slept with Michael on the first night. Am I surprised? I know I shouldn’t be, but I still take a deep breath and let out a loud sigh as I leave the room, pulling the door closed behind me.
    After a trip to the bathroom, I head into the kitchen, standing there aimlessly as I wonder what to do to pass the time until everyone else wakes up. I didn’t even hear them all come back last night, so I must have been out cold, despite my spider trauma.
    Maybe Mum didn’t come back at all? Maybe something happened to her? If she were dead, they’d have to make room for me at Dad’s place . . .
    A nasty sensation spikes at my head as I realise that my first thought wasn’t for my mum’s welfare, but before the dark side of my imagination can present an evil scenario explaining her empty bed, I hear a door open down the corridor. Moments later, Michael appears in the kitchen.
    ‘Ah, Lily,’ he says warmly. ‘I wondered if it was you I could hear.’
    ‘Is Mum in your bedroom?’ I ask outright.
    ‘Er, yes,’ he replies, looking awkward. I exhale loudly and he gives me a funny look before clapping his hands together once with forced enthusiasm. ‘Righto, think I’ll put the kettle on. Want a cuppa? Huh . . .’ He glances down at my feet, safely encased in my trainers, before his eyes lift to take in my pyjamas. ‘Were you planning on going outside?’ he asks, baffled.
    ‘No, but I saw a spider in my room last night.’ I’m suddenly desperate to tell someone – anyone – about it.
    His eyes widen. ‘You haven’t slept in your sneakers, have you?’
    ‘Sneakers? You mean trainers?’
    ‘Is that what you call ’em?’
    ‘Yeah. Anyway, no, I put them on to go to the bathroom.’
    He nods. ‘I see. Spider give you a bit of a fright, did he?’
    ‘Yes, it was enormous. Brown and hairy.’ I shudder involuntarily.
    He casually waves his hand. ‘Sounds like a huntsman. Don’t worry, darl, they’re not deadly. Saying that,’ he adds thoughtfully, ‘and I don’t know if this is fact or one of those urban legends you hear about, but apparently huntsmans cause more deaths than any other spider.’
    I give him a quizzical look and immediately regret it because he continues, aided by animated sign-language, ‘Imagine you’re driving your car down the road, minding your own business, when you pop down your sun visor and a huge spider lands on your lap. BAM!’ he shouts, making me jump. ‘You crash your car and that’s the end of you!’
    I can’t drive yet, but I’m making a mental note to avoid sun visors when I learn.
    ‘Whoopsie, I’ve scared you again. All I’m saying is that hunts-mans don’t tend to bite. And if they do, they won’t kill you. You want to see some really venomous spiders, you should come to work with me one day.’ I smile feebly and he chuckles. ‘Or maybe cuddly koalas are more your