Alex glanced around at my gilt-framed pictures and antique lamps and line of wall-to-wall, rammed in no particular order, bookcases. He took in the wood burner and its accompanying stone mantel. ‘It’s very you.’
Following his gaze to my floral reading chair I couldn’t gauge whether that was a compliment or not, and I found myself feeling protective of all I surveyed. I loved everything about the place. It was cosy and interesting and yes, very much me.
His eyes settled on my Christmas tree. Far too big for the room and crowded with mix-and-match baubles and all shades of tinsel, it was kitsch and nostalgic and reminded me of Gran. Alex clocked the angel sat on a kitchen chair that I’d dragged through to use as a makeshift ladder. But even that hadn’t given me enough height to reach, and I’d left it where it was in the hope that Gideon would do the honours when he finally got round to visiting. The way things were going, it would still be sat there in the new year.
Alex headed straight over and picked up the angel. ‘Do you mind?’ As I nodded my approval, he climbed up on the chair and easily popped her in place. She seemed to smile down as if glad to finally be where she belonged.
Back on terra firma, Alex took in the magnificent ensemble. ‘Perfect,’ he said.
I recalled the previous year when Gideon first saw my tree decorations. Rather than praise the mass of gay abandon, he didn’t understand it. He felt a more curated approach would have yielded a better result.
I gestured toward the kitchen. ‘Shall we?’
As I moved to pick up the chair to take with us, Alex stopped me. ‘I’ve got it.’ Carrying it through, he placed it at the dining table that sat under the window. ‘This is nice,’ he said, looking out into the distance at the rolling countryside.
My heart suddenly skipped, as, for a moment, I thought I saw Gran stood next to him. She loved to soak up that view too. It never failed to amaze her how it constantly altered thanks to moving cloud shadows and the changing angle of the sun. She particularly liked it in winter when the hills were white with snow. Pulling my thoughts away from Gran, I drew Alex’s focus away from the window and into the room. ‘Obviously I’ll clear a cupboard for you. And provide a shelf in the fridge.’
His attention went from the cooking area to me. ‘Thank you.’
‘We have another flight, I’m afraid.’ I, again, let him go first. As I directed him to the bathroom, I hadn’t realised how many bubble baths, salts, lotions and potions I had on display. My cheeks burned red as I spotted my underwear drying on the radiator, amongst them the fancy set I’d bought for mine and Gideon’s date night.
‘Very nice,’ Alex said.
My mouth fell open, and I flashed him a look, relieved to see he was talking about the shower, not my choice in lingerie. Seizing the opportunity, while he admired the plumbing, I snatched up my knickers and bras and hid them behind my back. ‘And this is where you’ll sleep,’ I said, encouraging him out of the room completely. Watching him step towards his would-be bedroom, I flung my underwear through my door and closed it.
Light flooded into the white-painted room from a window that replicated the one in the kitchen and offered the same view. Alex made straight for it.
I paid more attention to the rest of our surroundings. The double bed wasn’t made up and despite having a dressing table and wardrobe, the room felt soulless compared to the rest of the flat. It lacked personality, much like Gideon’s office. The bigger of the two bedrooms, it had once been mine, but to feel closer to Gran after she’d passed, I’d shifted all my belongings into hers. I chewed on my lip, regretting the fact I’d done nothing with the space I’d left behind. ‘It’s a bit stark now,’ I said. ‘But once you get your things in here it’ll be cosier.’
‘It’s fine.’ Alex turned to me with a smile; the first I’d seen since our flat tour began. ‘More than fine actually. It’s a good size. It’s bright and airy. And that view.’ He indicated the window and beyond. ‘It’s screaming to be put down on paper.’ He looked my way again. ‘Would it be all right if I set up an easel?’
‘You paint?’
‘I’ve been known to. Because of the age of the building, my room in the pub is too dark. It would be great to get my brushes out again, if that’s okay with you?’
I smiled, liking the idea of having another creative around the house. ‘As long as you stick to the canvas and not the walls.’
‘You’re not a fan of murals then?’
I gave him a mischievous smile. ‘You could draw me like one of your French girls.’
Alex looked at me direct. ‘I’m up for that if you are?’
My cheeks reddened. His expression was so serious, I didn’t know how to respond.
A smile spread across Alex’s face. ‘I’m only joking. Unlike Titanic Jack, I’ve never painted a nude in my life.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
He winked. ‘Not a Parisienne nude anyway.’
Again, I couldn’t tell if he was teasing.
‘There is one thing,’ I said. ‘I have a boyfriend who’ll be around from time to time.’
‘Oh.’ Alex’s brow knitted.
‘That won’t be an issue, will it?’
