I cracked the window to let some air into the stuffy little room. As I scooped up my toiletries bag and my towel, I glanced again at the complicated map to check my route to my allocated bathroom. I stepped out into the hall, turned the corner at the end of the corridor, and counted my way along to the third door, grabbing the handle and flinging it wide open, ready to greet whatever Victorian horrors a Buckford Hall bathroom had in store for me this time.
“Oh, hello there.”
“Lord Buckford!”
He was side on to me, one foot up on the edge of the bath, towelling himself down. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs scrambled for air.
“I mean, my lord. I mean… William. I mean… oh my God. I’msosorry.”
I looked away, but he didn’t try to move or cover himself. I looked back. The room was full of steam, and his skin was pink from the heat of the water. His body was athletic, thick from years of rugby, but softened, I guessed, after several years away from the pitch. My subconscious immediately imagined exactly how it would feel to have that weight bearing down on me. Stop it, I told myself. No boys. I was here to work. Keep it professional.
“How’d it go out there today, Petey Boy?”
“You’re… completely naked.” I shielded my crotch with my toiletries bag, as if I wasn’t still wearing my boiler suit.
William put his foot on the ground, stood upright, and turned to face me—his soft, plump cock swinging there—like this was the most normal encounter in the world. I tried to focus on his face.
“Well, I’m in my bathroom,” he said, rubbing his towel through his hair. “And so are you, as it happens.”
I shook my head. “I counted the doors. This ismybathroom.”
William pointed past me to a door on the other side of the corridor.
“I think you’ll findthat’syour bathroom. This one’s mine.” A cheeky grin lit up his face.
I looked over my shoulder, face burning with shame. Words failed me. I sucked my lips in between my teeth and made a popping sound. Then made it a few more times, as I slowly stepped backwards across the corridor. I pointed my thumb over my shoulder.
“I guess I’ll…”
William held up his hand and wiggled his fingers in a patronising little wave. I turned on my heel and opened the door to my bathroom, spun back around again to say thank you, then turned, disappeared into the correct bathroom, and slammed the door behind me.
“You’re welcome!” I heard William call out from across the hall.
I turned to face the bathroom door and let my forehead slump against it with a thud. I stood there like an idiot, knowing I’d made a massive tit of myself in front of the most perfectly formed man I’d never been under. Worse, I was allowing myself to get distracted not only by a boy but by the biggest liability I’d ever met. From the other side of the door came the unmistakable sound of the liability chuckling.
Chapter 12
William
The cuckoo clock cuckooed midnight. I sank back into my father’s old armchair, and the dents and tea stains that had outlived him, intending to read for a half an hour before falling asleep. It was strange, being in here without him. I picked up my beaten old copy ofThe Page’s Questand dug my elbows into the threadbare fabric of the armrests, but my mind soon drifted to the television industry’s sexiest animated hair ribbon. Petey Boy had seemed so in control at work, but he was at his cutest when he was flustered and wrong-footed. I smiled, happy to have evened our score. The book fell open, and my makeshift bookmark, the unopened letter from His Majesty’s Revenue and Customs, slithered out onto my lap. Sensing danger, the dinosaur part of my brain sent a shot of adrenaline through my chest. I closed my eyes—if I didn’t see the tax bill, I could ignore the tax bill—took a couple of deep breaths, and tried to calm my body. It’s what I used to do before taking a penalty kick. And it might have worked but for the knock from downstairs. I nearly soiled the red satin boxer shorts that served as my jimmy-jams.
“Bramley, is that you?” He was supposed to be lodging at the Dower House with Mum. The knock came again, this time more insistent. I tucked the envelope back into the book and tossed it onto the coffee table. “Are you missing me already? Or are you annoyed because she’s beating you at Scrabble?” I donned my robe and padded down the stairs. “She cheats, you know. Keeps extra letters Blu-Tacked under the table.”
I flung open the door to be greeted by a face significantly younger than the withered old walnut of my faithful retainer.
“Dub-Dub!”
Jonty’s arms flew wide, and I found myself wrapped in them before I knew what was happening.
“Marvellous to see you,” he said, grabbing my elbows. “How are you, dear fellow?”
“What a pleasant surprise.” And while I meant it, a new sense of dread washed over me. I adopted a conspiratorially hushed tone. “But what are you doing here?”
“Didn’t seem right, sleeping under the old Buckford lead without saying a proper hello.” He released me and began wafting around the room, inspecting everything from the floorboards to the rafters.
“Golly, I haven’t been in here inyears! Looks the same.” He sniffed the air. “Smells the same. Should we open a window?”
Apart from the bathroom being along the hall, the folly functioned as its own apartment. This level, the downstairs room, was on the third floor of the house and served as a small bedroom. There wasn’t much there, only an old wire-framed double bed and a gas ring so you could make tea or boil an egg. It felt quite a lot like my old dorm at Petersham—doubly so, now my old school friend was standing in it.
