Oliver nodded. “I just want to pop inside and check on Betty first.”
“Okay.” They parted ways, and Ed went back to find a voicemail from his uni mate, asking how things were going. Ed sighed as he listened to the message again. He hadn’t asked for a specific date, but Ed knew he had to pick one soon, should’ve done it already really. He didn’t need to find a house beforehand, would probably be easier to look for one once he was already up there.
So why haven’t you set a date?
He was still avoiding answering that question when Oliver came back.
And then it was easier to just forget about it for a while.
Five hours later they were both thoroughly exhausted, but the bedrooms were painted.
After a kiss that seemed to last forever, Oliver went home to cook Betty dinner, and Ed had no excuse left to avoid texting his sisters.
Ed:Painting all finished. Can take pictures for the estate agent now.
The reply came back quickly, his stomach sinking a little at the words
Sarah:Great. Ruth, can you sort it?
Ruth’s neighbour was a semi-professional photographer, handily enough. He’d already taken photos of the other rooms; the bedrooms were the last to do.
Ruth:Yep, I’ll ask Derek if he’s free on Saturday. Ed, make sure the rooms are clutter-free and beds made.
Ed rolled his eyes. He wasn’t an idiot.
Ed:I have sold a house before you know.
Ruth:Sorry :)
Pocketing his phone, he wandered back into the lounge, stopping in his tracks at the sight that met him.
Now it was dark outside, the lights on the tree looked amazing, casting a warm glow over the whole room. Outside, through his open curtains, the garden lights lit up the tree, adding a spot of magic to his otherwise boring front lawn.
Walking over to the window, he peered over at Betty’s, smiling at the soft-white lights now blinking slowly on and off along the top of the bushes. He hoped she liked them.
The urge to text Oliver and ask had him pulling his phone back out, but he hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen.
What were they to each other?
Did he need to even define it?
Sighing at his own stupid indecision, Ed typed out his question and hit Send. He was thirty-eight. Surely he was well past angsting over sending a simple text?
He wasn’t over watching his phone waiting for a reply though, and it seemed to take an age before the three dots appeared on his screen.
Oliver:She loved them. Thank you for doing that.
He was about to protest that it was down to both of them, but another text popped up on his screen.
Oliver: She loved your lights too. Said it reminded her of when Elise was alive, and she feels lucky to have another wonderful neighbour.
Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Ed stared at the screen for a long time before finally slipping it back into his pocket, unsure of how to reply to that.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Oliver ended the call with the animal shelter and slumped back in his seat, thoroughly disappointed in people.
“What’s wrong, love?” Betty looked up from her crossword, frowning.
