Chapter 8
Still in my pyjamas, I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen. I felt refreshed and ready for the day ahead, having slept surprisingly well considering I was in a strange house, in a strange village, made up of strange people. A hot bath, clean fresh bedding, and a village with very few street lights was just the tonic I’d needed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such a good rest.
I recalled the previous night when I’d climbed into bed. Switching off the lamp, it was as if I’d suddenly lost my sight. I’d never known darkness like it. Lying there in the pitch black was a strange experience; it felt daunting. And the quiet. There were no car engines, no drunken mayhem, and no clattering of shutters as late-night businesses closed. The only sound had been Frank’s rhythmic snoring. It was no wonder I’d enjoyed hours of unbroken blissful sleep.
Having organised myself the previous evening, I’d already set aside a notepad and pen and charged up my laptop in preparation of a productive day ahead. Jobwise, whereas other people were winding down in anticipation of the upcoming festivities, I intended on stepping up a gear so that I could hit the ground running when I got back to London. It felt good to know that my break in Little Leatherington meant I could get on with things uninterrupted. My eyes went from my laptop to the kettle. “First things first, though,” I said, assessing my priorities. “Coffee.”
My phone bleeped indicating a text had come through. I didn’t recognise the number. I opened the message and, feeling a frisson of excitement, I couldn’t help but smile. With no communiqué to pass on to Jules about Number 3, Bluebell Row, it appeared Mr Oliver Chase just wanted to check on my welfare and reiterate he was around if I needed anything. As I placed the phone back down on the counter, I couldn’t recall giving him my number. I realised Jules must have handed it over, which made sense. Oliver was the letting agent Jules had instructed, after all, and I was her contact on the ground.
My phone bleeped again and picking it up once more I was surprised to see Oliver had sent another text.
How about I show you the sights? Pick you and Frank up in half an hour. If you fancy it?
My heart skipped a beat. Handsome men weren’t in the habit of offering to take me out. Wondering what kind of sights he had in mind, I let my mind wander and pictured us on a romantic steam train ride like the one Jules had mentioned. I could hear the guard’s whistle as we climbed aboard and the locomotive’s hissing steam as we set off, followed by the chugging of its wheels gathering momentum on the track.
I let out a wistful sigh, forcing myself back to reality. While it was nice to daydream, no matter how much fantasising I did, the man was only trying to impress my friend. He probably thought looking after me demonstrated how well he’d look after any future tenant.
Needless to say, it wasn’t as if I was really interested in him either. I had too much to think about sorting out my life. Setting up a new business was hard enough; and getting to know any local would be one distraction too many. Let alone a local as gorgeous as Mr Oliver Chase.
I looked from the phone in my hand, to my laptop, and back again. Re-evaluating Oliver’s offer, I reasoned it wouldn’t hurt to get a feel for the place, seeing as I was there for the foreseeable, especially when for all I knew, we might come across a few skips on our travels. Plus, it meant I could give Jules a proper low-down on the area, I told myself. Agreeing to go was as much for her benefit as it was mine.
I checked the weather through the window and, pleased to see the sun shone, thought it perfect for a day of sightseeing. “What do you think, Frank?” I asked, already imagining me, Oliver and the dog sat outside a little street café, enjoying a mid-morning cinnamon latte and a deep-filled mince pie with a huge blob of thick brandy cream.
The dog barked and wagged his tail.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said, replying to Oliver’s text telling him I’d be ready and waiting before I could change my mind.
I raced upstairs to get ready, but thanks to there being no dilemma over what to wear, it didn’t take long to get showered and dressed. I hadn’t brought much with me clothing-wise. Sitting behind a computer and walking Frank didn’t call for anything special on the attire front, so it hadn’t crossed my mind to pack anything more than jeans and sweaters. However, what I did have was clean and comfortable, and, in freezing temperatures, perfect for strolling around a market town or enjoying a casual lunch.
Hearing a knock at the door, I threw on my coat and clipped Frank’s lead to his collar before answering.
“Ready?” Oliver asked.
Seeing him standing there in jeans, walking boots, and a thick waterproof jacket, I felt relieved that I hadn’t brought anything snazzier to wear. Knowing me, I’d have put it on and there is nothing more embarrassing than being overdressed. “Ready and able,” I said, in answer to Oliver’s question.
While Frank jumped up and down in excitement, his lead tangled around his stumpy legs and as Oliver leant down to free him, I locked up the house behind us.
“Shall we?” Oliver said, gesturing down the street.
Following him, I wondered where he’d parked his car. But instead of directing us towards a vehicle, we turned down a lane and continued on foot.
“So how was your first night here?” Oliver asked.
“Wonderful,” I replied, confused about where we were going. “I slept harder than I’ve ever slept in my life.”
“So you’re full of energy this morning?”
“To the brim,” I replied, laughing.
The man was obviously starting his tour of the area in our immediate vicinity, I reasoned, and we continued to chat as we walked. I let Frank off his lead under strict instructions not to do a runner and the dog trotted ahead, while Oliver talked about his life in the Dales and I about mine in London.
“Very different to here then,” Oliver said, comparing the calm around us to the city’s hectic environment.
“The polar opposite,” I replied.
“I’m not sure I could live in a place like London full time,” Oliver said. “I’d struggle to switch off.”
“Here, I’d struggle to switch on. I mean, it’s all right for a visit, to recharge your batteries. But after a while… Don’t you get bored?”
