Scott knocked but got no reply. He thought about taking the tunnel from the first floor but talked himself out of it. Thomas wanted space, and it was the least Scott could do. It surprised him that Thomas hadn’t demanded he pack his bags and leave, and he thought if he pushed too soon, it still might happen.
Scott ate breakfast and lunch alone too the next day.
He knew Thomas had moved from room to room, had heard his bedroom door lock, and the slow drag of Thomas’s feet as he headed back and forth along the corridor.
Scott made himself scarce, strolling the impressive gardens.
He steered clear of the rose bushes and ended up sat on the bench where he’d been reunited with Thomas. The fountain chucked up water, and when the wind blew Scott’s way, he sighed at the refreshing mist on his face.
He closed his eyes and tilted his chin up to feel the sun.
“Beautiful weather we’re having…”
Scott jumped to his feet. His wide eyes targeted the man standing behind him. He was elderly, wore a battered flat cap and trousers held up by braces. He had thick gloves and held a trowel, which sprinkled dirt on the ground.
“Yes,” Scott said, blinking. “It is. You must be the gardener.”
The man looked down at himself. “No. I dress like this for fun.” He snorted at his own jibe, then held out his hand to Scott. “The name is Tim.”
Scott shook his hand, only to grimace at his palm when he got it back.
Tim wrinkled his nose. “Sorry about that…those darn foxes love messing in the gravel.”
Scott gawped down at his hand. “You’re telling me this is fox shit.”
Tim stared at him blankly, then broke into a laugh. He laughed so hard it sparked a coughing fit, and Scott used his free hand to smack his back a few times.
“It’s only mud,” Tim said eventually. “You’re Thomas’s house guest?”
“He told you about me?”
Tim nodded. “He told all the staff. Put it in the group chat.”
Scott snorted. “You have a group chat?”
“We sure do. He said you were in Brixton together, and he’s letting you stay while your apartment gets fixed. He said you dropped a clanger in the toilet and took out the whole block.”
“That’s…that’s not quite what happened.”
“Really? That’s a shame. The GIFs we were all sending were quite entertaining.”
Scott looked away. “I’m sure they were. Did he say anything else about me?”
Tim shrugged. “Not a lot except under no circumstances were any of us allowed to sleep with you.” He pressed his gloved hand to his chest. “I know I’m damn irresistible, but you’ve gotto control yourself. I’ll get fired if you don’t, and I kind of like this job.”
Scott smirked. “I’m holding myself back, but it’s a near thing.” He glanced at the trowel. “What are you doing?”
“A bit of weeding here and there.”
“Need some help?”
Tim’s thin eyebrows vanished beneath his hat. “I’m good with the weeding.”
“Oh.”
“But I’ve got another job you could do if you want?”
“Is it cleaning up fox shit?” Scott asked.
