‘Yeah, that would be cool!’
Holly exhaled, relieved. Problem temporarily averted. She held up the bracelet and jangled it. ‘And of course, in the meantime, we still have this great big mystery to solve.’
28
An oak door loomed in front of me, and it was with excitement and trepidation that I looked to my husband as he placed a hand on my lower back to guide me forward.
‘Are you ready?’
I nodded my head, feeling slightly dazed. Were we really considering this?
‘Yes, I think so.’
He smiled happily and propelled me through the open door. I must be honest – the moment that I stepped over the threshold, I felt as if I was walking on air.
‘Oh my goodness, look at this place!’ I exclaimed, and he shot me a look that said, ‘Remember what I said? Don’t get overly excited or we will lose our ability to negotiate.’ But I couldn’t help it. This place was …amazing. It was a Classic Six penthouse, one of the six-room pre-war apartments that are much sought-after in Manhattan - and already I could feel the history from each of those rooms.
I put my hand on the wall, stroking the crown moulding that ran down the middle of the hallway, then entered the living room – or maybe this might be called a ‘sitting room’, a place where society types ended up greeting and receiving guests. I had to stifle a giggle. Right now I ‘received guests’ in a cramped living room that was the size of the foyer in this place.
My daydream was interrupted as the real-estate agent, Theodore, turned around to face us. I wondered if he ever went by the name Ted.
Probably not in this part of town, I decided.
‘And this is the sitting room,’ he confirmed. ‘This room was actually just redone by the previous owner. The interior is attributed to Donghia Associates, under the direction of the extraordinary Angelo Donghia.’
I nodded knowingly, even though I had no idea who he was talking about.
‘That’s fantastic,’ I said somewhat vaguely, looking around at the ornate woodwork. Obviously, Ted saw through my bluff, because he felt the need to clarify just who Angelo Donghia was.
‘Mr Donghia is a visionary. He designed the Opera Club at the Metropolitan Opera House and Lincoln Center, both met with superb acclaim.’
I had never been to either, but I smiled just the same. I knew he wanted me to feel like some sort of hick but to be honest, I didn’t know anything about opera, and I certainly wasn’t going to pretend that I did. However, I was far too used to New York snobbery to be upset by this guy. It took a lot more to shake me up.
I might want this apartment with every bone in my body, but only because it was beautiful and the house of my dreams. Social climber, I was not.
‘Can we see more?’ I asked, wanting to get past the sitting room and onto the rest of the place.
‘Of course,’ he said. I knew he was holding back a sneer. I’m not sure if he was put off by our age, still being relatively young, or if he was just upset that he pegged me as someone who might not be as cultured as his other clients.
Whatever it was, it was water off a duck’s back.
Ted led us on and I had to do my best not to start skipping. Every room we entered was even more beautiful than the one before, and in my mind, I’d already started decorating.
I could envision that green velvet settee that I spied at an antique shop in the West Side right over in that corner, next to the fireplace. And I had this great idea about a brass headboard that I saw just last week at Bloomingdale’s for the spare guestroom, I knew it would be a perfect fit.
And then there was the fact that there was also this other room, a space that looked out onto Central Park, where lofty clouds seemed to float by and the sunshine gleamed into the room happily. Currently painted in a neutral ivory colour, it would be a perfect room for a baby’s nursery.
I found myself separated from the others and walked across the hardwood floors, the heels of my slouched boots clicking merrily and echoing across the empty rooms.
I closed my eyes for a moment and allowed myself to feel the air move around me. This was a very old and classic building, and had probably seen many tenants in its lifetime.
It had been a home several times over, and had a history, had probably known its share of happy times, as well as sad.
The people who had lived within these walls had loved and lost, laughed and cried, been born and possibly also died. And right now, all of them were talking to me.
They were telling me this is where I would live my life, where my marriage would bloom and blossom, where our children would be born, where we would experience joy as well as sorrow. They told me that all of those things, those experiences, would colour my life.
At that moment, I knew. We had come home.
