12
VICTORIA
PLAYLIST: DON’T BLAME ME – TAYLOR SWIFT
Isee her red cheeks and hear the consuming laughter that goes straight into my chest. I cannot tell what made me take her to the most private thing I own. I have never taken anyone to Glenmere. It is my hideout, my safe space, my retreat from the world.
But I want her there. In me is a longing to introduce her to the world she might otherwise never encounter, a world I secretly hope she will fall for. Not my lifestyle, but my world.
Now, watching her not only overcome her fear but let in the feeling of freedom that comes with it, illuminates my heart.
It takes over an hour for the tension to leave her body, and we’re almost at the height of Edinburgh. I do not let go of her hand the entire time. I cannot recall ever holding hands with someone that long—and I am not opposed to it either.
“Look,” I tell her through the headset and pull her hand over to me, pointing down to the illuminated city under us. She leans over as much as the belt allows her.
“Edinburgh,” I say. “Wonderful bookshops and a historic place.”
“I always wanted to go,” she says. “I once read about a wonderful second-hand and antiquarian bookstore. I think it was called McNaughtan’s.”
I smile as I speak to my headset, “Simon, please coordinate a stop in Edinburgh tomorrow afternoon before we head back. We have a bookstoreto visit.”
She looks sternly at me and shakes her head, but I simply mouth, ‘One day’.
She rolls her eyes and looks back outside.
Half an hour later, Simon prepares for landing. Beneath us, the grounds are in darkness, except for the house itself and the driveway.
I have been flying with Simon many times now, at night as much as daytime, and he knows Glenmere like no one else, just as we got to know each other over the years. I usually fly alone, therefore I have the time for some chatting—not today, however. Today, I simply wish to look at Mia and her emotional rawness.
We land on the Manor grounds, and Simon gives her and me a hand to climb out of the helicopter. I slip him a key from my coat, the one for the guest house.
“Welcome to Glenmere,” I say to Mia, who stares at the brickstone manor house like she is dreaming.
It is beautiful at night. Clear view of the stars, almost no light pollution except for this three-storey brick wall mansion with Victorian windows, lit by only wallwashers.
“Come,” I say, grasping her hand, aiming to walk with her, but she just stands there, wide eyes, a half-smile on her face, lips slightly parted.
Her eyes trail from the house to me to our hands, and she pulls me close and into a heated kiss. Her free hand softly cups my face while the helicopter rotors whirr down into a gentle hum that becomes the peaceful silence of the night in the Scottish Highlands.
A night that could not have been any more perfect.
“Thank you,” she whispers against my lips before she lets go and walks up the pathway leading to the entrance. She turns back to me and laughs before she spins with her arms wide and throws her head back.
I simply watch her. I have seen many people blossom at my events, but what I'm witnessing right now is something entirely different.
When she stops and notices that I watch her instead of following, she wrestles for one second with herself before she grins and curtsies.
I have to admit that I have rarely felt more alive than right this moment.
“Any more of that and I’ll send that video to my friend at the Royal Opera,” I call towards her as I follow her. She giggles.
Gravel crunches underneath our feet as we walk up to the entrance together. When we reach it, I stop for a single moment.
“This here is as personal as it gets,” I tell her. “I have taken no one here, ever. Not even Henry has been here.”
“Why would you take me here?” she asks with wide eyes in total disbelief.
“Because you are special,” I say—and her cheeks blush so beautifully.
