I smile. ‘Naturally.’
‘This footman is not supposed to talk to her, so he invents reasons – polishing the same banister twice, lingering by the scullery door.’ His voice softens. ‘She’s quiet. She acts like she’s invisible, but he sees her.’
I can’t lie – he knows how to put together a good romance story. A silence descends on both of us. My heart is beating so loud, I’m surprised he can’t hear it.
‘And him?’ My voice is almost a whisper.
‘John’s been through a lot in his life. He’s always kept his distance from women and is focused on his work, but Mary is different.’
‘Why is she different?’
He pauses before saying, ‘Mary has a smile like the dawn breaking over a grey and tired world. It doesn’t just brighten his day. Her smile lifts the weight off his shoulders. Even the endless chores seem bearable after he’s witnessed it.’
I reach out and run my hand over the pillow wall. This man is doing things to me. He’s making my body light up like a row of twinkly lights.
‘One night, there’s a storm and a leaking roof. The great house becomes chaotic. She slips on the stairs, and he catches her.’
A warm, excited feeling is engulfing my body.
He continues. ‘Mary has soot on her cheek, which he tenderly wipes with his thumb. She always looks frightened in front of the other staff, but on the stairs with him, she stares with such intensity it’s as though she’s looking inside him. In a moment of madness, he asks her to meet him at midnight in the garden.’
I gasp. ‘Does she meet him?’
‘You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.’ He laughs, and I fling one of my pillows over the wall at him.
‘That’s not fair, Oliver.’
‘I thought you didn’t like romance stories, Nelly?’
I stare at the pillow wall as words jostle on the tip of my tongue.
He starts to clap. ‘I’m going to convert you to romantic fiction, Nelly.’
‘Careful,’ I say, which makes him laugh.
35
When I wake up, I know Oliver is in the bathroom as I can hear the shower running.
The sound of him singing in the shower drifts through the wall, causing my heart to have an early morning flutter. I go to the kitchen to make myself a coffee. I have my back to the doorway when I hear his voice. ‘Good morning, Nelly.’
It makes me jolt and spill the coffee I’ve just poured. When I turn round, he’s in his dressing gown. His hair is dripping wet, and he’s beaming at me.
‘Do you fancy going for a picnic tonight?’ he asks.
I blink. ‘A picnic?’
He shrugs. ‘It’s going to be nice weather tonight. What do you think?’
My anxiety climbs into the driving seat. ‘I’m not sure what I’m doing.’
He grins. ‘Nelly, you’ve not been out since I moved in. Come on. I need to get you out.’
A picnic. That doesn’t sound too bad. I nibble on my thumb, a habit that soothes me.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not a date,’ he says. ‘We’re two flatmates having a picnic.’
I am glad he’s clarified that.
