Page 48 of Gideon
“What would his guinea pig name have been?” Niall asks, hoisting my bags.
“I can do that,” I protest, but he shakes his head.
“I think Flossie,” he says happily.
I glare at him. “Why?”
He shrugs. “It suits you.”
“I’d have preferred something a bit more butch.”
Milo laughs. “You won’t like mine, then.” He snorts loudly. “I’d have called you Princess Sparkles. You’d have been my beloved guinea pig who met a sad end when he escaped his cage and got in the gin bottle.”
Niall starts to laugh, and I groan. “I know that’s sticking. I just know it.”
“Don’t be so touchy, Princess Sparkles,” Niall says, making Milo laugh harder.
I shake my head and hold out my hand for the intricate iron key. I fit it into the front door and push it open.
I find myself in a small hallway. A crooked-looking staircase climbs up and away, and to my right is a small lounge. It has an open fireplace with a basket of logs next to it, giving out a woody sap smell. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases that run on either side are stuffed with paperbacks. A small sofa and armchair upholstered in a lavender-coloured cotton and an oak coffee table are the only other furniture.
I walk through to a small kitchen at the back. The cupboards are painted a rich cream and it has an old wooden worktop that glows with age. In one corner is a small round pine table and two chairs. I move over to the back door and look out onto a wild-looking garden with a huge oak tree shading it. At the bottom of the garden is an old stone wall, and, over it, I get a glimpse of fields undulating in shades of green like a fertile magic carpet. I turn as Milo walks in.
“Niall’s putting your bags upstairs,” he says, touching the basket that’s sitting on the countertop. “Oz had this made up for you. There’s coffee, tea, biscuits, and everything you need initially. Fresh milk and bread will be delivered to you every morning.” He winks at me. “No vodka, though.”
I shrug awkwardly. “I’m not drinking at the moment. I promised Eli.”
I break off, but his gaze sharpens. “Oh, you promised Eli. That’s lovely,” he says innocently. I glare at him, and he smiles. “You look good, Gid,” he says, coming near and examining me with the same focus I’ve seen him apply to a three-hundred-year-old painting. “You looked terrible last time I saw you. Now you look …”
He hesitates, and I stare at him. “What?”
“New,” he finishes somewhat uncertainly. “You look new.”
“No, still the same shop-soiled thirty-nine-year-old body,” I say flippantly, and he shakes his head.
“No, I don’t think so.” He hesitates. “I was going to keep your phone and laptop. But I don’t think I will now.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you’ll do what’s best for you this time without being forced into it.”
I shrug. “I won’t be rushing to get in touch with anyone,” I confess, sitting down on a chair at the table.
He settles down opposite me, his expression lively and interested. “Why?”
I shrug awkwardly. “I just don’t want to at the moment. I like being away from everyone. My head isn’t so cluttered.”
He looks as pleased as if I’ve just declared that Hogwarts is real. “So, what will you do?” He gestures to the living room. “Silas and Oz have filled the bookshelves, so there’s plenty to read. And Oz found an old record player in the attic at the big house along with a box of old records. They might be fun to have a listen to.”
“That sounds good,” I say and huff. “It sounds good now. I don’t think I’d have been so receptive a few months ago.”
“Let’s focus on the now,” he says steadily, his eyes clear and filled with unspoken messages. “Forget about the past for a while.”
“Thank you,” I say, impulsively holding out my hand and squeezing his hard. “I love you.”
He looks startled, and his eyes glisten. “I love you too, Gid.”
Niall comes to the door, his eyes softening with approval as he looks at the two of us. He seems to have made it his mission for us to get over all the awkwardness and be family. It’s funny but somehow it doesn’t seem so impossible anymore.
