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Elated, Sky settled in behind Rory. She didn’t even know where they were going. It didn’t matter. She clung to his back, grateful to be there against him, grateful to be with him again. Everything else melted away into nothing.
Rory handled the bike masterfully, despite the heavy rush hour traffic. He weaved through the traffic, revving the engine at traffic lights, making her blood rush. The joy of being with him and the thrilling ride was a double hit of excitement. It made her emotional and when they reached the destination about twenty minutes later, she was giddy.
Once he switched the engine off she climbed off and quickly pulled off the helmet. She’d assumed he was taking her to his place, but when she looked around she didn’t recognize the place. By the looks of it, he’d pulled up at the entrance to a park.
“Where are we?” In one corner of the park, adjacent the entrance gates stood a vast thicket of hedge.
Rory nodded at the hedges. “The park house.”
Sky craned her neck. “There’s a house in there?”
“Yes, the lodge, it used to be called. Years ago the park caretaker used to live there, but the council sold it. No one wanted to be in a park at the time, but George bought it, and he grew the hedges so it’s really private.”
“This is George’s place?”
“Come on, let’s go inside.”
“How?”
Rory laughed. “Follow the hedge until you find a gate.”
“You’re enjoying this!”
“Yup.”
God that smile looked good on him. “Do I get a prize?” She winked as she set off, following the perimeter.
“Of course.”
Sky trailed one hand along the foliage as she went. After thirty feet or so the hedge turned a corner, which meant they were out of the view of the park entrance. Another twenty feet or so brought her to an indent. A green wrought iron gate was barely visible amongst the trailing branches. “It’s like a secret garden.”
“In you go.”
She lifted the latch on the gate and went in. Ahead stood a funny little grey stone house. It had a steep roof and a turret with a small window looking across the park. Rory pushed the bike up the pathway toward a long shed at the side of the house. It had clematis growing all over it to make it look pretty. Sky watched as he opened up the padlock and chain and pushed his bike inside.
“It’s like being in the countryside,” she said when he rejoined her, amazed at how different it was inside the hedges. The distant sound of dogs barking and an ice cream van where all that pulled her attention away from Rory and the quaint house with its odd little turret.
“That’s what George said. He said he loved London, but this was his sanctuary.” He nodded at the door and she saw an old piece of driftwood pinned over the door. Carved into the wood was one word, Sanctuary.
She snuck her hand into his, feeling overwhelmed, feeling a little lost.
He led her around the side of the house. A glass extension was surrounded by tall meadow flowers. He pointed through the window. She saw an easel set up there. Next to it was a tall stool, upon which sat a tabby cat. The cat appeared to be staring at the easel expectantly, which made her chuckle. The cat turned th
eir way.
“Do you think you could paint in there?”
She nodded. “Where did the easel come from?”
“It’s a treat, from me.”
Sky could do no more than squeeze his hand. He’d bought her an easel. It meant so much.
Barking sounded from inside the house. In a flash of grey fur, a massive Irish Wolfhound stood up against the window ledge, tail wagging vigorously.
“Oh my, he’s huge.”
“He a good lad.” Rory went closer to the window. “Sit!”
