‘Noah was with me,’ Quinn said, then panicked. She might want to know why her son was in his apartment. Perhaps she would speculate on their relationship, and then Quinn would have to admit that there was nothing to it, no matter how much he wanted there to be, becauselookat him.
Hermione looked Quinn up and down. He faltered under her gaze.
‘I love your shop.’
‘Have you ever been?’ He felt bold asking.
‘I’ve tried,’ Hermione said, ‘but the press.’
She said it as if it explained everything, as if that was final, but Quinn wasn’t sure what she meant.
‘The press is always outside,’ Hermione said, twitching a curtain at the side of the door and peering through the window. They looked original to the house, which was Grade II listed. ‘They always want the best shot. Not on my watch. I get seen when they need to see me. I’m fed up with the constant hassle.’
Quinn looked at Noah, trying to gauge his reaction. The landscape they’d trudged through had been deserted. It was them and only them in the lane, and Cusop Dingle hadn’t seen excitement in years.
Noah’s lips pursed. He stared at Hermione’s back, refusing to meet Quinn’s own quizzical look.
‘They want an exclusive. Always want to know what I’m doing.’ She bit her nails, the shawl falling away from her shoulders. ‘They’ll know when I’m ready to let them know. Noah, I thought you were in your room.’
‘We popped out,’ Noah said.
We?
‘I see. Shall we get a cup of tea in the kitchen?’
‘Yes, we would love that.’
Hermione led the way, and Noah linked his arm with Quinn. ‘My sir.’
‘Thank you.’
Noah escorted him to the kitchen. As Quinn felt Noah’s arm under his, he tried to steady his racing thoughts. He’d offered his hand as a joke, like he was a butler in a stately home. But being this close to him, touching him, was a whole other experience.
‘The press?’ he whispered.
Noah cleared his throat, as if this was enough of an answer.
The kitchen was a stainless-steel cold place with wooden floors and a wooden dining table. It was large, but dark, because Hermione drew the blinds over the sliding doors and the kitchen window. Candles flickering in holders on the steel counter were the only light in the room. It was the only cosy feeling in such a clinical space.
‘A clean kitchen is a cheery kitchen,’ Hermione said, spraying disinfectant on the immaculate counter. She wiped it with what looked like a brand-new cloth and then wiped the kettle before turning it on. ‘I get one of the townspeople to clean here.’
‘Oh, Ivy?’
‘You know her?’
‘Who doesn’t know Ivy?’ Quinn laughed.
‘I don’t,’ Noah said. ‘Not personally, at least.’
‘Shame. You’re missing out on a lot from her,’ Hermione said.
‘Why are the blinds closed?’ Quinn asked.
‘Photographers.’ Hermione took mugs out of a cabinet. She paused. ‘Want a hot chocolate instead?’
‘Oh, yes, please!’
‘I have marshmallows too.’ Hermione showed a door at the back of the room. She looked at Quinn. ‘Mind fetching them?’
