“Is it that obvious?” William replied, glad someone actually had it in them to talk to him. Considering even the barman hardly said a word when William placed his order, it was surprising.
“We know an outsider when we see one,” the man replied, lifting his hand from the bar, wiping it down his shirt and offering it to William. “The name’s Mike Dean.”
“Nice to meet you, Mike,” William lied, taking the offered hand in his. It was as large as a giant with rough palms that spoke of years of hard labour. “I’m William Thorn.”
“Oh, we know all about you, Mr Thorn. Although, I wouldn’t let that bother you. Small towns and all that, it comes with the territory. Especially since most of us still living have ties to Stonewell since before we were but babies in our mothers’ tummies. You, on the other hand, are fresh meat. Not often we get city boys venturing this far out.”
It was the second time Mike had referred to William as a boy, and it was beginning to grate.
“Well, on that note…” William had to practically pry his hand free. “I should get a table. Don’t let me keep you from your beer–”
“Perhaps this is a stupid question, but you’re rather young to be living such a big house all alone, aren’t you?”
William felt his defensive nature rise to the bait. “I didn’t realise youth had anything to do with the capability of achieving anything?”
His sarcasm was clearly lost on Mike as it went right over his head.
“A big house like Hanbury Manor? I think it does. I don’t know if you know this or not, but a lot of folks are very unhappy you own it,” Mike said, and the shuffle of those watching throughout the pub seemed to prove it. “Hanbury’s been a part of the Thomas family for a long time. It should’ve stayed that way. At least that’s what I think.”
“Honestly, that opinion has come through loud and clear.”
The barman carefully slipped William’s half pint over to him, almost as if worried about disturbing the conversation the entire pub seemed hellbent on listening to. William took it with a smile and held it to give his hands something to do but shake.
Mike leaned against the bar, blocking William’s way around him. “So, what are you running from then?”
“Excuse me?” Heat rose in his cheeks, staining them red. William’s neck itched which was a sign it was growing splotchy. “I don’t think I just heard you right.”
“Oh, I think you did.” Someone sniggered from their seat, entertained by Mike’s bashful attitude. “Hanbury’s the type of place people go to bury secrets. No one sticks around long either.” Mike looked around for help from everyone listening, and he got it because they all nodded, in haunting tandem, like William had entered a town of robots. “So it’s only natural that one wonders what a boy like you is doing in a place like this, when your life is back in London.”
There’s that boy reference again. I give him one more before I go full Housewives of New York and throw this pint over him.
“And how do you know my life is back in London? In fact, how do you know anything, Mike?”
“William Thorn, celebrated children’s author… one quick internet search comes up with a host of stories relating to you. I’ve always liked puzzles, Ma said I was pretty good at them as a young’un.”
William’s blood thrummed in his ears, drowning out the sound of everything around him for a split second.
Mention of this job – the one he left behind a year ago – soured his stomach. But it was what else that Mike had discovered during his Google search that worried him.
“Sorry, but what’s any of this got to do with me and Hanbury?” William snapped, ready to smack that beer out of Mike’s hands.
Mike shrugged, unbothered. “Just wondering, that’s all. Neighbours worrying about neighbours, just like the Lord wants. You’re somewhat of a local celebrity here now. Though I suppose you’re used to that kind of attention. If you came here trying to escape it, that was the wrong decision.”
“Local celebrity? Ha. I’m beginning to think I don’t have any fans around here at all.” William eyed the crowd, only further proving his point. “Not even one, actually.”
Mike didn’t tell William he was wrong either. “You should know, Stonewell would’ve preferred thatstainon our landscape was torn down. Hanbury, that is. We’d agreed on plans before you came along. A lot of us see that as time wasted. So, I’ll ask you nicely to put it on the market. Sell up to some big tycoon who wants to build flats or something.”
“Flats… that far out of town?” William barked, slamming the glass on the bar, liquid spilling over his knuckles.
“Don’t mock me, boy,” Mike warned. “It’s not becoming of our new neighbour.”
There was so much William could’ve said in response, including a sting of obscene language. “Respectfully, Mike, let me spell this out for you. Hanbury Manor isn’t going anywhere.I’mnot going anywhere.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Hmm. I was always under the impression that small-minded people like you would’ve hated the idea of some developer coming to tear it down only to replace it with ugly flats.”
“That would’ve been better,” Mike sneered. “Better than you living in it, I mean.”
