‘Lenny.’ To my annoyance, Lenny starts to purr and stretches out a silver paw.
Oliver chuckles and gently shakes it. ‘Nice to meet you, little guy.’
‘Lenny,’ I correct him. Lenny will be horrified to be called that. Oliver chuckles, and I look down to see Lenny lovingly rubbing his head against Oliver’s hand.
Lenny, you are a traitor, and I will have words with you later. Now I need to let Oliver into the flat without touching him. This will be interesting, as my hallway is relatively small.
I step into my flat, set Lenny down, pull the door as far as it will go, and press myself against the wall so that our arms cannot touch. ‘Come in. This is the hallway. It connects… things.’
Oliver casts me an odd look and steps inside. ‘Hallways tend to do that.’
Ignoring his witty comment, I point him in the direction of the living room.
‘Wow – this is cosy,’ he gushes, looking around my living room with my chair in front of the small sash window, the tiniest sofa in the world behind it, the old fireplace, and the many shelves of books along the sloping wall. ‘This would once have been the servants’ quarters of this great house. I like it.’
A smile breaks out across my face. Apart from me, he’s the first person to have acknowledged that about my flat.
He points to my chair by the window. ‘That’s a great spot to sit.’ I watch him walk over and gaze out of the window. ‘Can we have a rota on who gets to sit there?’
I can feel my smile fading. ‘No.’ My answer is firm and clear.
This makes him smile and turn back to me. ‘Are you into accepting bribes?’
I shake my head. ‘No. That’s my seat.’
‘I can give you a signed copy of my latest book?’
Forcing out a polite, tight-lipped smile, I say, ‘I’m not a fan of romance novels so your bribes won’t work with me.’
‘You haven’t read my books?’ He seems shocked.
I shake my head. ‘The covers are pink – that’s all I know.’
His dazzling smile reappears. ‘Well, that’s a relief,’ he sighs. ‘I find fangirls hard to live with.’
He’s not getting a smile out of me for that playful comment.
Leading him to the kitchen, I ensure there’s a safe buffer zone between us. I am slightly ahead, opening random cupboards like an anxious estate agent. ‘This is the kitchen. Fridge. Sink. Oven.’
He gives me a nod of approval. I hope he’s considered my minimalist approach to work surfaces and my neatly organised cupboards.
I point him towards the bathroom door whilst standing far back. ‘Open the door.’
‘After you,’ he says with a grin.
Shaking my head, I gesture for him to go first. He pokes his head inside. ‘Tidy – I like it,’ he says.
While he’s surveying the bathroom, I open the door to Eva’s old room. ‘Here you are. I know it doesn’t look big, but it has a double bed, a desk and a wardrobe.’
‘Maybe this beautiful room will help me to start writing again,’ he says, striding in, running his fingers over the desk, and gazing out of the window. ‘Is that our garden down below?’
‘It’s a private communal garden shared by all the houses in the crescent.’
He nods. ‘Do you use it much?’
I shake my head and refrain from telling him that I actively avoid human contact when I’m not working. ‘Miranda said you had writer’s block.’
He carries on looking out of the window. ‘Yeah, it’s been a while.’
