Hope everything’s OK. See you later hopefully: Cedar Court, Tanglewood Lane, Castleton
his text had read.
Admittedly, it’s not just round the corner. I’ve never even
heard
of Castleton.
“Oh, to be a student again.” Neil grins. “Drinking all day long. Well, enjoy, and happy birthday, kiddo.”
“Thanks.” I beam. “And thanks for lunch.”
“Any time.” He winks. “Remember what I said. Just call me if you need anything. Bye!”
I wave till his taxi disappears round the next corner, then hurry to the next cab in the line and give the driver the address, hoping I’ve got enough cash to get me there.
We drive past the sights of Sheffield—the cathedral, City Hall, past the university—then we keep on going, till all that surrounds us are gently rolling hills, grassy fields, trees, sheep, and the occasional farmhouse. Gradually the hills get steeper, gorsier, more rugged, as rocky cliffs begin to shoot up from nowhere, ripping through and scarring their grassy coats. It’s beautiful, like something out of Middle Earth.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Peak District, love.”
“Derbyshire?”
He nods.
“Are you sure this is the right way?”
“Yep, nearly there.”
I hope so,
I think, checking my new watch. It’s two-thirty. I’m not sure there’ll be much point me turning up at this party at all if it takes much longer—we’ve been driving for half an hour already.
Finally the taxi pulls into the gravelly drive of a huge redbrick manor house and stops by the front door.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I stare up at the building doubtfully.
“Yep.” He points to a sign. “Cedar Court Care Home.”
“Care home?”
I stare at him. “There must be some mistake.” I try to call Christian.
“You’ll not get signal here, love. The hills get in the way.”
He’s right. I get out of the car and try again, holding my phone high in the air.
“Are you coming or going?” the driver asks impatiently. “I can’t wait all day.”
“I...” I falter.
“Louise?”
“Yes?” I turn as the woman we bumped into at the hospital hurries out of the front door.
“Oh good! You made it!” She beams. “Sorry, we’ve not been properly introduced—I’m Shirley, one of the carers here. Christian asked me to keep an eye out for you. Happy birthday, by the way!”
“What? How did you...?”
“Christian told us.” She smiles. “But don’t worry, he didn’t divulge your age—he’s a gentleman.”
I stare at her. How did he...?
My driving license,
I realize. He must’ve remembered my birthday from when he checked my ID in the pub.
“He’s just in the garden—I’ll take you round, shall I?”
The taxi driver clears his throat. “That’ll be thirty quid, then, love.”
I spin round. “Thirty!”
He nods. “Many happy returns.”
I empty my purse and hand him the money grudgingly. If Neil hadn’t given me a tenner for my birthday, I’d be stuck. I hope there’s a cash machine round here somewhere—I’ve not got enough left for the return fare.
“Follow me.” Shirley smiles, leading me round the side of the building to a vast sprawling garden. A large patio hugs the side of the building, stretching tiled pathways snaking in several directions across the pristine lawns, which are studded with benches, trimmed with immaculate flower beds, surrounded by colorful bushes and evergreens, and filled with old people, happily chattering and mingling.
This
is the party Christian couldn’t miss
.
.
.
?
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!” I look round as a guy in a suit appears at the patio doors.
I blink.
Christian?
“Doesn’t he scrub up nicely?” Shirley beams. She’s not kidding. He looks incredible, his dark hair tied back in a neat ponytail, the crisp suit fitting him like a glove.
He winks at me. “It is time for the birthday girl to take to the dance floor.”
I freeze. What is he doing? I can’t dance! I open my mouth to
his text had read.
Admittedly, it’s not just round the corner. I’ve never even
heard
of Castleton.
“Oh, to be a student again.” Neil grins. “Drinking all day long. Well, enjoy, and happy birthday, kiddo.”
“Thanks.” I beam. “And thanks for lunch.”
“Any time.” He winks. “Remember what I said. Just call me if you need anything. Bye!”
I wave till his taxi disappears round the next corner, then hurry to the next cab in the line and give the driver the address, hoping I’ve got enough cash to get me there.
We drive past the sights of Sheffield—the cathedral, City Hall, past the university—then we keep on going, till all that surrounds us are gently rolling hills, grassy fields, trees, sheep, and the occasional farmhouse. Gradually the hills get steeper, gorsier, more rugged, as rocky cliffs begin to shoot up from nowhere, ripping through and scarring their grassy coats. It’s beautiful, like something out of Middle Earth.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Peak District, love.”
“Derbyshire?”
He nods.
“Are you sure this is the right way?”
“Yep, nearly there.”
I hope so,
I think, checking my new watch. It’s two-thirty. I’m not sure there’ll be much point me turning up at this party at all if it takes much longer—we’ve been driving for half an hour already.
Finally the taxi pulls into the gravelly drive of a huge redbrick manor house and stops by the front door.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I stare up at the building doubtfully.
“Yep.” He points to a sign. “Cedar Court Care Home.”
“Care home?”
I stare at him. “There must be some mistake.” I try to call Christian.
“You’ll not get signal here, love. The hills get in the way.”
He’s right. I get out of the car and try again, holding my phone high in the air.
“Are you coming or going?” the driver asks impatiently. “I can’t wait all day.”
“I...” I falter.
“Louise?”
“Yes?” I turn as the woman we bumped into at the hospital hurries out of the front door.
“Oh good! You made it!” She beams. “Sorry, we’ve not been properly introduced—I’m Shirley, one of the carers here. Christian asked me to keep an eye out for you. Happy birthday, by the way!”
“What? How did you...?”
“Christian told us.” She smiles. “But don’t worry, he didn’t divulge your age—he’s a gentleman.”
I stare at her. How did he...?
My driving license,
I realize. He must’ve remembered my birthday from when he checked my ID in the pub.
“He’s just in the garden—I’ll take you round, shall I?”
The taxi driver clears his throat. “That’ll be thirty quid, then, love.”
I spin round. “Thirty!”
He nods. “Many happy returns.”
I empty my purse and hand him the money grudgingly. If Neil hadn’t given me a tenner for my birthday, I’d be stuck. I hope there’s a cash machine round here somewhere—I’ve not got enough left for the return fare.
“Follow me.” Shirley smiles, leading me round the side of the building to a vast sprawling garden. A large patio hugs the side of the building, stretching tiled pathways snaking in several directions across the pristine lawns, which are studded with benches, trimmed with immaculate flower beds, surrounded by colorful bushes and evergreens, and filled with old people, happily chattering and mingling.
This
is the party Christian couldn’t miss
.
.
.
?
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!” I look round as a guy in a suit appears at the patio doors.
I blink.
Christian?
“Doesn’t he scrub up nicely?” Shirley beams. She’s not kidding. He looks incredible, his dark hair tied back in a neat ponytail, the crisp suit fitting him like a glove.
He winks at me. “It is time for the birthday girl to take to the dance floor.”
I freeze. What is he doing? I can’t dance! I open my mouth to
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