‘I wish I could, but Dad isfinallygoing to retire this year – or so he says – which means I won’t have a lot of time on my hands for a side hustle.’
Elena pulls a face at his use of words but then laughs anyway. ‘You make it sound like a dance,’ she teases, doing a little salsa-like sidestep in demonstration, but when he doesn’t laugh too, she stops and gives him a more serious look. ‘Are you okay, Luke? I don’t know … You don’t seem like your usual self.’
He’d like to agree with her. On one level he does. He doesn’t think he’s always felt this way, with this vague sense of something heavy sitting on his chest, but he can’t actually recall a time in recent years when he didn’t. ‘I’m good,’ he says, pushing a smile onto his features. ‘You know me … ’
Elena nods but her smile is as half-hearted as his is. ‘And Jess? How is she?’
‘Good. She’s good.’
She walks over to him and lays a hand on his arm. ‘I’m glad. I want to see you happy.’ Their eyes meet and they stare at each other for a few seconds, but then he breaks eye contact. She allows her hand to fall away and steps back. The brightness returns to her smile as she tips her head on one side and says, ‘But if I can’t convince you to go into business with me, can I at least take advantage of your knowledge? Consulting services, if you like. No one knows period properties, especially in this corner of London, like you do.’
LEATHER
A strong, flexible and durable material obtained from the tanning of animal hides. While wearing leather in the modern world suggests confidence, assertiveness and even rebellion, it has been used for thousands of years, most notably for armour and protection.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
JESS
Luke brings the car to a halt in a residential street in Elmers End, a suburb a few miles away from where we live. I peer out the window at the tree-lined pavement and red-brick Victorian houses. ‘This is it?’
Luke pulls the key out of the ignition. ‘This is it.’
My fingers hover on the door latch for a second or two before I grab it firmly, pull it, and step out of the car. When Luke said he was taking the day off for our anniversary, this was not what I was expecting.
I follow him a short distance down the road to where a ‘For Sale’ sign stands, screwed into the gate post of a slightly raggedy-looking semi-detached. As far as I remember, our third anniversary was around the time we started looking seriously for the house we live in now, but this is definitely not our house. It’s larger, and while ours needed a certain amount of work doing to it, this one looks as if it’s more of a ‘project’.
It’s beautiful, though, with carved white masonry above the windows around the door and beautiful tall sash windows anda high gable roof. We can’t afford this, can we? It looks almost twice the size of our terraced house in our other life.
When I glance at Luke, he’s studying my expression carefully. ‘What do you think?’
I swallow. ‘I think … I think I want to see inside.’
I have so many questions, but I have a sense that my usual method of peppering him with enquiries might not be the right thing to do. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because, when I don’t always find the information I’m looking for, Luke starts to get a bit irritated. Sometimes, I think he thinks I’m being critical. I’m not. I just like information. I can’t make a decision about things, fully process my thoughts, unless I have all the details, so sometimes I have to dig.
As we walk up to the front door, it opens, and a smart woman in a suit steps out and shakes Luke’s hand, and then mine, vigorously. ‘Great to see you! I’m glad you’re interested in a second viewing.’ She turns her attention on me. ‘Want to take a look around?’ I nod dumbly and follow her inside.
On the ground floor, there are two good-sized reception rooms and a narrow galley kitchen, pretty common with houses of this age that haven’t been renovated by middle-class couples with a healthy budget. The wallpaper is ugly. The carpets are even uglier. But the house has good bones, and I’m hoping the plywood nailed to every door and under every staircase railing might be hiding beautiful original features. Perhaps there’s even a cast-iron fireplace or two behind a more modern-looking surround.
When we’ve done the whole tour, the estate agent excuses herself, allowing us a moment to talk. Luke opens the door to the back garden, and we step out onto a tufted lawn that looksas if it was once cared for but hasn’t been mown in a few good months.
I look up at him, my eyes wide. ‘You want to buy this house?’
He nods. ‘I know this isn’t exactly what we talked about, but hear me out … okay?’
I turn around, shielding my eyes with a flat hand placed against my brow, and study the back of the house. French doors lead out onto a patio that would be a perfect spot for a kitchen extension. I don’t even want to think how many years it would take us to save to do that, even if we could afford this place. ‘Okay.’
‘I know we’ve been looking for a place for ourselves, but I think this house could be a great opportunity to boost our deposit fund.’
I frown and look at him. ‘You don’t want us to live here?’
He laughs. ‘No. I mean, yes … I would love to live here. I wish we could afford it, but remember that conversation we had last week?’
Damn. Of course I don’t. But I can’t tell him that, can I? Instead, I ask him to remind me of the details. It’s been a long week. More than he knows!
‘You know how frustrated I’ve been getting with Dad now he’s back at work? How he absolutely refuses to do anything to pull his building firm into the twenty-first century? He won’t even get a website, for goodness’ sake! They’re so much we could do to make Harris & Sons the premier building company in the borough. But he just won’t listen.’
I dig around in my memory, and realize this rant seems familiar. Luke decided not to go back to his corporate job once his dad’s health improved. It took him a while to admit it, but he’d never really enjoyed it. He loved working with family, buildingsomething that could be a legacy, possibly for our own children, but the generational differences when it came to running the company caused a lot of friction.
