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“I can handle it.”
We fly along the roads in Reggie’s Land Rover. He makes small talk for the rest of the way, both of us happy to leave the topic of the unfriendly ghost behind.
The closer to Casper’s parents’ house we get, the more expensive the properties look. Small semi-detached houses and blocks of flats give way to large houses and stately homes.
“Imagine growing up here,” I say quietly, a twinge of envy stirring in my stomach as we pass mansions.
Literal mansions.
Reggie shrugs like this is all normal to him. “My house was like these. We didn’t worry about money, but there was plenty other stuff to worry about. Rich people aren’t immune from shit.”
No, but I bet it helps life when you don’t have to worry about how you’re going to pay rent or if you can afford to run a car, which I can’t.
We pull onto the drive of a house that rivals the size of Buckingham Palace. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit smaller, butJesus.
Getting dons out of prison sure does pay well.
“How do you even find anyone in that place? Imagine the heating bill.”
He laughs. “Get it all out now, Ainsley, so you can be normal when we get inside.”
“Do they have a butler and a chef?”
“Ainsley…”
God, they do. “Okay, I’m done.”
“We’re meeting them on the terrace for afternoon tea. Frederick, Casper’s dad, said to go around the back. I know the way.”
On the terrace for afternoon tea.
I suddenly wish I was wearing a pastel pink racer dress with Mary Janes. My hair should be in a respectable bun instead of hanging in loose waves. Thankfully, I’d already put on a bit of make-up and had a rare day of getting dressed in nice jeans and a T-shirt before he arrived to pick me up. I’m usually in loungewear.
Reggie parks out the front, and I follow him around the massive house, marvelling at the ornate brickwork and chiselled stone. They have the family name carved above the front door:
HART 1801.
This house has been in Casper’s family for a long time.
Will he live here with his poor wife and kids one day?
Or a harem of prostitutes and demons?
“Look at the size of the window!”
“Ainsley.” His tone is a warning.
“Oh my God, is that a pool house over there? Look, and they have a fuckingtennis court!”
He grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop. “I thought you’d got it all out.”
“That was before I saw more of it. Can you believe all of this?”
The garden stretches farther than I can see. The lawn is perfectly manicured, with beds of colourful flowers popping up from the ground like a collection of rainbows on the grass.
My jaw nearly hits the perfect lawn.
I bet each blade of grass is exactly the same length, too.
