Page 25 of Tears of Ink

“You surprise me, Miss Hitchin.”

I glare at him but find him grinning at me.

“You don’t surprise me if you only see as far as the surface,” I snap.

He chuckles to himself like he’s so damn amusing and I seethe in my seat. Bloody ignoramus.

When he flicks the indicator towards a small entrance in the centre of a huge brick wall—a wall we’ve been driving past for a long while without me realising—his relaxed demeanour hardens. It snaps in the air like brittle glass.

I watch through the window, his change in body language causing a shiver of apprehension to tingle down my spine. We draw up in front of what can only be described as a palatial building. It’s bigger than a mansion. In fact, it would make a mansion look like a cottage.

“Jesus,” I mutter. He snorts, but it lacks the warmth of a few minutes before.

“Welcome to the crazy house.” He announces.

By the time we’ve made it up broad, pale stone steps, I’m glad of my outfit choice. If I’ve got to sell myself—convince these people that my work belongs in their frankly giant house—then, hell, I’m going to dress right for it.

The door opens as we arrive and a man in a suit bows as we walk through. Please tell me that’s not a butler.

“Jennings.” Elijah greets the older man, clapping him warmly on his arm and handing him his keys.

“Elijah, it’s good to have you home.” The man’s deep brown eyes sweep over me. “And not alone. Miss Hitchin, we are pleased you could come.”

“Thanks,” I stutter.

The fall of footsteps draws my attention, and as I turn towards them, I catch Elijah stiffening out of the corner of my eye.

“Darling, you are home.” A woman of middling years walks towards us, a waft of pungent perfume which I believe may have been made in hell by Chanel precedes before her. She’s an apparition of immaculate perfection. Hair carefully coiffed, face smoother than my own which is impressive considering she must have at least twenty years, if not more, on me. Her suit is Chanel. She air-kisses Elijah and he shoots me a small smile over her lilac-suited shoulder.

She pats his shoulders, taking in the full view of his face before turning to me.

“Faith, I am so pleased Elijah was able to convince you to come.” Her smile is bright. But, Elijah doesn’t get his blues from her. “My apologies about our meeting at The Ritz. I am just so unorganised. Hopefully, Elijah acted like a gentleman and explained the situation.”

I flick my gaze towards him. His face is cautious, perplexed, although I have no idea why. She grabs my arm and wheels me around, not giving me time to answer. “Now, come, let’s start a tour, or do you need a drink after a drive in that awful rust bucket Elijah insists on keeping. Sentimental fool.”

“Why’s he a sentimental fool?” I want to turn to see him, but she’s marching me away down a marble floored hallway at a great pace.

“Oh, it’s silly. It is the car his grandfather used to drive. When Elijah passed his test, he found someone selling it. Somehow, he managed to match it up with old photographs and bought it. He has spent far too much energy on fixing it up, I can assure you.” She clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

Elijah fixed that car? I don’t know why this surprises me, but it does.

We are speed walking through an airy hallway. Arched windows stud the wall at regular intervals. How many windows are there? I can’t stop to count, she’s towing me so fast by the elbow. I glance up and see a beautiful domed ceiling, decorated with gold stars on white. It’s quite beautiful.

“Wait.” I pull on her hand, holding her back.

“What is it?” She looks genuinely perplexed that I might want to do this walk slowly.

“Can I take a moment to see this room? It’s amazing.” I slide my chiffon-covered sleeve out of her grasp and step away. I need to breathe air not tainted by Chanel. I turn on my heel and take in the impressive length of the room.

It reminds me of the type of room Jane Austen would have had her characters “taking a turn of the room” in. Blimey, if they’d had Fitbits in those days no one would have had problems getting their steps in.

“Faith.” She smiles at me. I’m telling myself it’s not condescending. “This is just the hallway.”

I won’t let her budge me on. “The light is amazing. All these windows. This would be a great room for glass; you could have changes in tone throughout the room, maybe start lighter by the entrance and have it grow darker by the end.”

I find Elijah still watching at the other end. He seems to be smirking. Shooting him a frown, I turn back to his mother. “Sorry, I get distracted.”

She claps her hands together. “I have a good feeling about this.”