Chapter Eight
Henry and I climb up two flights of stairs and I goggle at the fact that the entire three floors of this mews house belong to him. He is also insisting on carrying my heavy suitcase and bags up the stairs. I am totally capable of carrying them myself but Henry seems intent on making sure I don’t lift a finger. When we get to the top floor he uses his hip to push open a door to one of the most beautiful rooms I have ever seen in real life. It’s large but not haughtily so, with pale yellow painted walls, a large bed covered in starchy white linen bedding and plush pale cream carpet which my dad would refer to as ‘an absolute belter of a weave’.
‘This is … wow,’ I breathe. ‘Surely this is the best room in the whole house? I can’t possibly stay in here!’
‘Ha!’ Henry barks, rolling my suitcase to the end of the king sized bed. ‘They’re all pretty good, to be honest with you. I’m glad you like it.’
‘I love it,’ I say, my eyes shining at the thought of such a cosy, sumptuous and elegant space. And, it has an actual working radiator!
‘En suite is through there,’ Henry says, pointing towards a door on the left wall. His nonchalant tone of voice does not give away that the ‘en suite’, upon discovery, is a full sized bathroom with a roll top bath and an incredible green and blue mosaic floor.
My goodness me. What… what is going on? How am I here? Just a few hours ago I was shivering in a mouse infested studio flat on the verge of having to move in to some grotty spare room in Zone 4. And now…
I close my eyes briefly.Thank you, mystery woman who saved Henry’s life, wherever you areI repeat over and over again in my head.I’m sorry for stealing your identity but I think this might be saving my life too!
‘You haven’t seen the best bit!’ Henry says excitedly, grabbing my hand as if we are old friends and tugging me along towards a floor to ceiling window covered by a light gauzy muslin. He slides open the floaty curtains to reveal that the windows aren’t in fact windows, but glass double doors leading outside. Henry turns the small silver key set in one of the doors, opens it and and leads me outside onto an unbelievably stunning roof terrace. The floor is all decked out in unpolished wood and the brick walls surrounding the balcony are covered in white twinkle lights. The view looks out onto the higgledy piggledy rooftops of Notting Hill.
Is this a dream? I blink and wrap my hands around my self as I lean against the wall and stare out over this part of London that I love so much.
‘Honestly, thank you,’ I turn to Henry.
He studies my face curiously. Oh god, has he just realised that I’m not actually the hero woman? Is he about to kick me out? I clench my butt cheeks and wait for his facial expression to contort into one of fury.
But it doesn’t. Instead Henry just smiles warmly and reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I shuffle about awkwardly, feeling my cheeks redden. That was a bit intimate!
‘I promise to be the best personal trainer you’ve ever had,’ I blurt out like an idiot.
Henry laughs and folds his arms looking me up and down.
‘I have no doubt about that,’ he says.
Is he flirting with me?
He is totally flirting with me.
What is my life right now?
