Unreliable Hinges

They leave Arthur asleep in the car and head back to Rose Eden.

They stop in the pavillion, to work out where to go next.

I know! says Terence. Let's listen for neighing.

Clothes horses don't neigh, says Sweezus. 

What do they do? asks Terence.

They fold open, says Sweezus. You can turn them on their sides and make them into a tent.

Don't they die? asks Terence.

They can't die, says Sweezus.

Even if they're made into a tent? asks Terence.

They're not a tent until you put something over them, says Sweezus.

That's good says Terence. My clothes horse won't be a tent.

Yeah, says Sweezus. Let's hope it's the right sort of clothes horse.

It will be, says Terence.

He feels confident.

Sweezus, not so much.

Now he thinks about clothes horses he has known in the past ( not all that many), none have been anything like horses. Their legs were too thin. Their hinges unreliable. On the other hand, Mrs Hill's clothes horse is from a different era.

We'll head round the back, says Sweezus. See if there's some kind of laundry.

They head round the back.

The swimming pool is full of dark water, except for tiny particles of vomit, which look white, but are pink in reality.

I know what that is, says Sweezus.

My vomit, says Terence.

They should've turned on the filters, says Sweezus.

Why don't you do it? asks Terence.

Don't know where the switch is, says Sweezus.

Maybe in there, says Terence, pointing to a door at the back of Rose Eden.

Sweezus tries the door.

The door opens onto Mrs Hill's laundry.

An old washing machine with a wringer.

Damp socks and cotton drawers, strung from one side of the room to the other.

And a clothes horse, draped with pillow cases and antimacassars.

We're in luck, says Sweezus. That's a clothes horse.

Terence is disappointed.