Half-asleep in the big bed, I drifted.

The pretty bartender, coming closer to me, with that half-smile in the darkness…

I thought about the feeling of her waist under my hands, the heat of her body against me. When we kissed, I felt her lips on mine, cold and wet…

Cold and wet? That wasn’t right.

The cold, wet sensation continued, a steady pulsing against my face. That definitely wasn’t her lips.

I opened my eyes, and moved my head. Another drip of water landed on my face, falling from far above me.

“Shit!” Sitting upright, I struggled for the bedside light. Don’t forget about the bloody opossums. Flaring into life, the light illuminated the gang of tiny preserved rock-stars surrounding me, but this time I was ready for it, and only shuddered for a moment.

What was more serious was the roof and the bed; around me, the mattress was completely soaked in a wide circle, indicating it had been going on for some time. I must have been heavily asleep to not be woken by that. Above me, a large dark patch of the ceiling bulged ominously. As I watched, the bulge in the ceiling grew noticeably bigger, and a crack starting at one wall become more prominent. The dripping on my head turned into a near-steady pour, as if from a tap with a faulty washer.

Uh-oh. Time to rise and shine, Sanders. I rolled out of bed and got to my feet, casting around for a pair of pants and pulling my suitcase into the driest part of the room. As I did so, the ceiling gave a deep creaking noise and a small amount of plaster drifted down to settle on my head, giving me the sudden appearance of a bad attack of dandruff.

Pulling on a t-shirt, I looked around. At the window, early morning light crept in from between the thick curtains. My case was dry enough, but the mattress wasn’t going to be slept on any time soon. I’d better find a tarpaulin or something waterproof, or this is going to get worse.

Heading downstairs, I saw a light on in the kitchen and went in. Daisy was bent over an ancient stove, stirring something that looked like porridge; I caught the scent of cinnamon.

“Uh, Miss McNeish? I’m afraid I’ve had something of a leak.”

“Good morning, Mr. Sanders,” Daisy didn’t look up from her stirring, “Not to worry; it happens to all of us as we get older. Why, only the other day, I—”

I coughed. “No, Miss McNeish, I mean the ceiling in my room has had a leak. I’m afraid it looks like there’s a hole in the ceiling, and the mattress is very wet.”

This time, Daisy looked up. “Oh dear.” Her mouth set in a line. “I’d better come and have a look.”

Upstairs, we stared at the sorry remains of the mattress. As we watched, a light slurry of plaster mixed with water dripped steadily from the burgeoning hole in the ceiling, into a small mound in the middle of the bed.

Daisy muttered a word that I was quite surprised a lady of her age even knew. “I knew that ceiling wouldn’t last.” She turned to me with an apologetic expression. “I am so very sorry about this, Mr. Sanders.”

I tried not to grimace. I was lucky that none of my equipment was damaged, but there was no way I was sleeping in here that night. “Well, accidents happen, Miss McNeish; please don’t blame yourself.” I looked out the window at the clearing mist. “I guess I’d better find somewhere to stay.”

Daisy, clearly distraught, wrung her hands. “Well, you’re welcome to stay in the lounge on the sofa, if that’s any consolation. I hate to think of turning you out like this.”

I thought about lying in the big lounge, in the dark, under the accusing stares of thoroughbred racehorses and prize pigs. Would it be worse than the opossums? Hard to tell. “That’s very kind of you, but I wouldn’t, uh, want to impose upon you. I’m sure there’ll be another place I can find accommodation in town.”

* * *

By mid-morning, an hour’s work on the telephone had made me realize how wrong I was. “Dammit.” I put the receiver of the old phone back on its cradle and looked at my notes. How can there be nowhere else to stay in a town this size?

Daisy entered the lounge, wheeling a trolley. “Muffin, Mr. Sanders? I made them this morning. How goes finding a room?”

I rubbed my forehead. “Badly, Miss McNeish, badly. Every single place in town is full.” I peered at the muffins suspiciously; after Daisy’s last offering I’d intended to give her cooking a wide berth, but these actually looked pretty good. Selecting one from the tray, I bit into it tentatively. Actually, they are pretty good. Fruit and nut, I think.

Daisy made sympathetic noises. “I’d feared as much. There aren’t a lot of places to stay here at the best of times, and this is a busy time of year for tourists, you know.”

“Right.” I nodded, chewing on the muffin.

What could I do? I couldn’t go back to the city empty-handed, and the longer I left it, the greater the chance of those fossils being damaged or forgotten. I won’t let that happen.

“Have you tried further out of town?” Daisy proffered the tray of muffins. “Take another one, do.”

I swallowed the last bite of muffin, and shook my head. “I’ve tried everywhere in a twenty-mile radius. All booked solid because of the holiday season, it seems.”

“Oh dear. I’m afraid I can’t think of anywhere else in town that has accommodation, Mr. Sanders.”

I thought for a moment, and something the pretty bartender said came back to me. “I think,” I said, taking another muffin, “I might know of somewhere that does.”