I stare at her. “Llewellyn? He’s the gentlest man I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “He fiddled with the router so there was no internet during the middle of the day. Right around the time Watson loved to be online.”
I laugh, covering my mouth with a hand. “No free accommodation is worth that.”
“The day he handed his keys over, everyone nearly broke into a dance. But Evan and Haneen learnt their lesson. That’s why we have the probation clause in our contract now.”
Of course, the probation clause. The reason I might be losing sleep soon. It makes it clear that my free accommodation is contingent on creating a successful business, and that if my project doesn’t make money in the first year I would owe Kendric House Enterprises rent and bills.
Osian walks over. “Shall we have a business breakfast?” His question is to Leonie, not me.
She instantly straightens, pushing away from the doorframe, and takes a notepad and pencil from her apron pocket. “What do you want?”
“What do you recommend?” he asks.
“I’m trying out a new sandwich recipe: cream cheese and honey on seeded bread. But I also have the usual bacon”—she looks over her shoulder at the parrot—“sandwiches.”
“Two bacon sandwiches for me please and a bread basket with a pot of tea.” He turns to me, a question in his eyes.
“I’ll try the cream cheese and honey, please. And tea.”
“Which tea?” Leonie looks from me to Osian.
“Whatever Evie wants. I’m easy.” He heads back to the table he’d set up earlier, drops into a chair and props his feet up on the railing.
Leonie gives me a quizzical look, the corners of her mouth pulling up in a smirk. “Whatever Evie wants,” she mimics. “And he’s…easy?”
“You are spending way too much time with that bird.”
She grins but her eyes flick between me and Osian. “Am I missing something?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Really?” She doesn’t sound convinced. “How else do you explain the changes in him lately?”
I roll my eyes. “Osian is a law unto himself.”
She turns back inside to make our breakfast, and I go to sit with Osian.
How do you explain the changes in him?She doesn’t know the half of it. Last night, in the space of two hours he went from jokey, to caring, to confidential before he panicked and withdrew. I spent the whole night reliving the moment he said my secret was safe with him. I flex my hand, remembering the feel when he held it. The way he looked at me with understanding… And this morning it’s all like a soap bubble that just popped into thin air.
Now as I approach to take my seat, he looks up, friendly but guarded. He has his hands in his lap, his right hand clasping the left wrist – a clear signal that we’re not touching today.
Will he change again? More to the point, can I change him as Leonie seems to think I can? Not while I feel so on edge myself. I think he’s more likely to change me.
Chapter Twenty-five
“As I mentioned yesterday, my first course begins in a few days,” he says in a careful voice. “So shall we plan how best to use the participants?”
Last night when he offered this, it felt a much friendlier proposition. This morning he’s quick to business as if to leave no room for anything personal. And I’m like a weathervane: turning where his wind blows, I match his manner.
“I’m concerned this isn’t a fair exchange. They didn’t sign up to be unpaid labour.”
He considers this. “I don’t agree. They signed up for a practical, hands-on residential course in planting, cultivation and garden care. They will get all that from you, plus the chance to learn from”—he points at me—“an expert artisan horticulturalist. An authority on gardens through history. I think they’re getting their money’s worth and then some.”
I try really hard to stop the warm flush of pleasure at his implied praise. Instead, I focus on possible difficulties. They’re a group of people with psychological issues, and whatever artisan garden expertise I have, my usual solution to depression is to run away, move jobs, travel to the other end of the country.
“What about the emotional issues?”
