Page 30 of Wilder at Heart
No. Bloody. Way.
‘No, thank you. I’ll just brush my teeth with bottled water tonight. I’ll be fine.’
‘That would be amazing.’ Elle’s voice comes out in a gush of relief. ‘Thanks, Theo. It’ll be a few days before we get things sorted, probably.’
A few days?
‘No offence, but I’m not staying with you, Theo. Anyway, I’ve got the dog.’
‘No problem. I have plenty of space for the two of you.’ He glances at me, and he must spot my murderous expression, because he adds, ‘Chill out, Nor. I have three bedrooms. I’m not going to try to get into your PJs in the middle of the night.’
The guy’s a mind-reader. I was, in fact, about to have a total panic that our situation was turning into some ridiculous, only-one-bed farce.
Still. Even sharing aflatwith Theo Montague is way more intimacy than I’m ready for. Or will ever be ready for.
Elle sniggers on the phone.
‘Helpful, thanks Elle,’ I tell her.
‘Sorry. Theo, if you can help her out, I’ll feel so much better. Nor, Adela says the stuff in your wardrobe looks okay, but your bedding’s a bit buggered I think.’
‘I’ve got it,’ Theo says. ‘You can relax, Elle. I’ll go in and assess the damage with her, and I’ll help her pack up a bag and whatever the dog needs, and I’ll put them up for as long as you need. Okay? Go get some sleep.’
We say goodbye to Elle and I let the phone fall into my lap. Fuck’s sake. It’s not her fault, and I suppose it’s nice of Theo to step in. More than nice. He’s a bit of a lifesaver, really.
But what a total bloody pain in the arse.
CHAPTER 12
Nora
‘What a shit show. Bad luck, sweetheart.’
Theo rubs his forehead beside me while I stand at the threshold of my bedroom, looking around me in horror. Water’s still dripping through the ceiling, but from the revoltingly soaked bare mattress, I suspect it was a deluge before they turned the mains off. Adela must have stripped the bed, bless her.
The white carpet is darkened with water, and there are damp stains on the gorgeous wallpaper. This is a bloody disaster—the entire room will need redecorating. Thank God the leak didn’t hit Elle’s room. Her walls are papered in hand-painted De Gournay panels that cost an arm and a leg. That room is her pride and joy.
I slipped off my heels in the hallway, so I brave the room barefoot, gasping as my feet squelch wetly across the cold, soaked carpet.
‘Oh my God,’ I mutter. ‘This is revolting.’
‘I’m coming in.’
I glance behind me to see Theo stooped in the doorframe, pulling off his socks and folding up his trouser legs. The disgust on his face as his feet hit the carpet makes me giggle. He’sprobably more high maintenance than me. I suppose if I don’t laugh about this, I’ll cry.
Please let my clothes be okay. Please let my clothes be okay.
Not that any of my clothes are massively valuable. The good stuff is all in Elle’s samples overflow room, thankfully out of the way of the water damage. But still. I can’t exactly pack a suitcase full of Elle’s Dior, can I?
I tentatively turn on the light to the dressing room. Probably not the brightest idea, but it’s working. And Adela was right, thank God. My wardrobes seem clear. It’s my bathroom and bedroom that’ve borne the brunt of the damage. Theo comes up beside me as I peer upwards.
‘It looks okay, no?’ he asks.
‘Yeah. I can’t see anything.’ Luckily, the top shelves are taken up with spare duvets and pillows, which I suspect would have absorbed some of the water if it had come through.
Theo sticks his hand up and feels a couple of pillows. ‘They seem dry.’
‘Cool.’ I stare forlornly at my wardrobes. I need to get a bag out and start packing. All of which feels like a lot of effort.
