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The Regency building could be the set for a Jane Austen novel, the golden brick cleaned and restored. Smooth lawn borders the front of the house, lined with flowerbeds blooming pinks and blues for the summer. The driveway is clear of other cars. Behind two pillars, the glossy double wooden doors are ajar. I jump as someone opens the car door and pulls me out of my silent gawking.
"Grab your bag," Steve says gruffly.
I grab my handbag and stumble from the car, into the English sunshine. My brain stayed in my flat in Bristol because my powers of speech and movement are minimal.
"This way."
I follow Steve towards the entrance doors, which open into an hall the size of the entirety of my flat. The marbled floor is gleaming white—like those ads for floor cleaner—but in contrast, the walls are grey and black. Stairs sweep upwards from either side, supported on shining black marble columns, and meeting in the middle to form a balcony. Behind the balcony, a huge window floods the room with light.
My common sense catches up. "Where are we?"
Steve doesn’t answer, but leads me across the hall, our footsteps echoing through the quiet house.
A kitchen as big as the entrance greets me as we walk through a second set of white painted doors. Everywhere is clean and sterile looking. The spotless kitchen could be a show home—granite benches span the expansive room and state of the art stainless steel appliances are set into the oak cupboards. A beautiful house, but void of life.
"Jan! We’ve a guest – fix her a drink?"
A woman tidies plates into a dishwasher and she looks around. She's around the same age as my mum—late forties—and she looks a little like my mum too, with her blonde ponytail and kind face. Jan regards me for a moment then her eyes widen in recognition.
"Oh! You’re Sky?" She glances behind me to Steve.
"Sky–Jan. Jan–Sky. Jan’s the housekeeper officially, but don’t treat her like staff," he says brusquely as his phone rings.
Staff? Where in my world does anyone have staff? "Hi."
Jan smiles. "You look tired and hungry. Let me fix you something to eat?"
"Yeah, I’ll be back in a bit." Steve walks off, answering his ringing phone.
Floor to ceiling windows brighten the kitchen and to the right of the room, glass doors lead out of the house onto a terrace. On the spacious terrace, a modern wooden table and chairs fill the space, facing onto a view of the nearby hills.
"Where am I?" I repeat, hoping Jan won’t tell me I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole.
"Dylan’s place."
