to have appraisals, she’d be the one picking the person. It wasn’t just her New York–bred cynicism coming to the fore; she didn’t like other people interfering in her private business. Even if they genuinely meant well. Whether he had meant to or not, her father had raised her to be independent.
Maybe a little too independent?
Natalie turned back with a winning smile. “Oh, not like that,” she said. “I just thought you might use the manual labor. It will do them good,” she said innocently. “Especially Nicholas. Put them to work, get up a sweat.”
There was something about the way Natalie pronounced the name that gave Julia her clue. “This Nicholas,” she said. “Have you known him long?”
Natalie feigned indifference, but there was no hiding the sudden light in her eyes. “He’s been Andrew’s friend for yonks. They were at school together. Harrow,” she added importantly.
“Mmm,” said Julia noncommittally. They had come to Aunt Regina’s gate. In the twilight, the entrance to Aunt Regina’s house looked even more forbidding, shadowed, and overgrown.
“This is me,” said Natalie, pointing down the street at an SUV parked half a block away from the house.
“Okay.” The two of them stood there awkwardly. It felt, thought Julia with a tinge of amusement, like an awkward blind date. “Thanks for dinner. And for coming to help me get settled in.”
Natalie’s eyes shifted away and she made a quick, fluttery gesture with one hand. “It was nothing.” Looking from Julia to the house, she said awkwardly, “Are you sure you’ll be all right there on your own? My flat doesn’t stretch to a spare bed, but there is a rather comfortable sofa.…”
Julia was touched by the offer, although she couldn’t think of anything she would like less than sleeping on a stranger’s couch. When it came to the trade-off, Julie would rather have the odd family ghost and a room with a door. She imagined that Natalie wanted to have her just about as much as Julia wanted to be there.
“I’ll be fine,” Julia assured her. “It’s really sweet of you to offer, though.”
Natalie looked uneasily over her shoulder at the long, winding walk down to the old house. “The offer stands if you change your mind.” She gnawed on her lower lip, clearly still feeling guilty. “I’d come in with you and see you settled, but I’d better be going. Work tomorrow morning.”
She grimaced expressively, and it hit Julia, with a jolt, that this was the first time work had come into the conversation. At home, that was the first thing anyone asked: What do you do? As though it were the sum total of one’s worth.
“No, no, that’s fine,” said Julia, stifling a yawn. With her belly full of food, her body was making a desperate bid for a bed. Or any flat surface, really.
“If you’re sure…” Natalie brushed her cheek against Julia’s in a quick, practiced embrace. Julia thought inconsequentially of Japanese rice paper, silky and scented. Over her shoulder, Natalie called brightly, “I’ll see you on Saturday?”
Saturday? The door had closed on the SUV before Julia could tell her not to bother.
Herne Hill, 2009
Julia spent a satisfying week sorting through old papers and throwing out moth-eaten sweaters.
The house wasn’t quite as unmanageably large as it had originally appeared to her apartment-bred eyes. There were only six rooms on the main floor, although an ancestor at some point had knocked through a wall to make room for a conservatory, which bulged from one side of the house like a large glass mushroom, filled with ancient rattan furniture, droopy cushions, and dispirited potted plants. On the second floor were four bedrooms, although it seemed a good guess that the large bathroom with its claw-footed tub had once been a fifth. The floor was dotted with odd little nooks and cubbyholes, dressing rooms and linen closets and doors to narrow staircases that led up into the attics or down into
Maybe a little too independent?
Natalie turned back with a winning smile. “Oh, not like that,” she said. “I just thought you might use the manual labor. It will do them good,” she said innocently. “Especially Nicholas. Put them to work, get up a sweat.”
There was something about the way Natalie pronounced the name that gave Julia her clue. “This Nicholas,” she said. “Have you known him long?”
Natalie feigned indifference, but there was no hiding the sudden light in her eyes. “He’s been Andrew’s friend for yonks. They were at school together. Harrow,” she added importantly.
“Mmm,” said Julia noncommittally. They had come to Aunt Regina’s gate. In the twilight, the entrance to Aunt Regina’s house looked even more forbidding, shadowed, and overgrown.
“This is me,” said Natalie, pointing down the street at an SUV parked half a block away from the house.
“Okay.” The two of them stood there awkwardly. It felt, thought Julia with a tinge of amusement, like an awkward blind date. “Thanks for dinner. And for coming to help me get settled in.”
Natalie’s eyes shifted away and she made a quick, fluttery gesture with one hand. “It was nothing.” Looking from Julia to the house, she said awkwardly, “Are you sure you’ll be all right there on your own? My flat doesn’t stretch to a spare bed, but there is a rather comfortable sofa.…”
Julia was touched by the offer, although she couldn’t think of anything she would like less than sleeping on a stranger’s couch. When it came to the trade-off, Julie would rather have the odd family ghost and a room with a door. She imagined that Natalie wanted to have her just about as much as Julia wanted to be there.
“I’ll be fine,” Julia assured her. “It’s really sweet of you to offer, though.”
Natalie looked uneasily over her shoulder at the long, winding walk down to the old house. “The offer stands if you change your mind.” She gnawed on her lower lip, clearly still feeling guilty. “I’d come in with you and see you settled, but I’d better be going. Work tomorrow morning.”
She grimaced expressively, and it hit Julia, with a jolt, that this was the first time work had come into the conversation. At home, that was the first thing anyone asked: What do you do? As though it were the sum total of one’s worth.
“No, no, that’s fine,” said Julia, stifling a yawn. With her belly full of food, her body was making a desperate bid for a bed. Or any flat surface, really.
“If you’re sure…” Natalie brushed her cheek against Julia’s in a quick, practiced embrace. Julia thought inconsequentially of Japanese rice paper, silky and scented. Over her shoulder, Natalie called brightly, “I’ll see you on Saturday?”
Saturday? The door had closed on the SUV before Julia could tell her not to bother.
Herne Hill, 2009
Julia spent a satisfying week sorting through old papers and throwing out moth-eaten sweaters.
The house wasn’t quite as unmanageably large as it had originally appeared to her apartment-bred eyes. There were only six rooms on the main floor, although an ancestor at some point had knocked through a wall to make room for a conservatory, which bulged from one side of the house like a large glass mushroom, filled with ancient rattan furniture, droopy cushions, and dispirited potted plants. On the second floor were four bedrooms, although it seemed a good guess that the large bathroom with its claw-footed tub had once been a fifth. The floor was dotted with odd little nooks and cubbyholes, dressing rooms and linen closets and doors to narrow staircases that led up into the attics or down into
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