The Chateau of Happily-Ever-Afters: a laugh-out-loud romcom!. Jaimie Admans

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СКАЧАТЬ I’ve barely had a chance to explore it and half of that was in the dark. There are so many rooms, too many, full of too much stuff. This is Eulalie’s house, her history, her memories. All of the stuff in these rooms is stuff that she bought, that she put there, that she left after her husband died. She might never have come back here, but she never stopped thinking about it, weaving it into tales, getting lost in her memories. It feels like a lot of pressure to treat it with the honour it deserves.

      ‘Down here,’ he calls, his voice muffled from the floor below.

      I pick up Kat’s baked goods from the table where I left them, surprised to see Julian hasn’t pinched any, and cross the empty entranceway and reception rooms towards a tiny staircase which leads down into the basement level of the château.

      ‘There’s a kitchen down here?’ I ask as I squeeze my way down a narrow stone staircase with no banister.

      ‘Servants’ quarters,’ he says from somewhere. ‘The lord and lady of the manor would never have lifted a finger. Everything would’ve been done for them, cooking, washing, all that stuff hidden below deck, out of sight. Don’t tell me you’ve not seen Downton Abbey?’

      ‘Surely Eulalie and her husband didn’t have servants? She wasn’t the kind of person who’d have servants. She hated people doing anything for her.’

      ‘I don’t know. It depends how rich they were. To be honest, it probably goes back much further, this house has a lot more history than just Eulalie.’

      There are dark stone floors and an open fireplace at the bottom of the stairs, a huge room that spreads in both directions. If this really was servants’ quarters once, it’s bigger than an entire floor of my block of flats put together. It smells damp and musty, and like the rat in the box I found last night isn’t the only thing to have died here in the past twenty years.

      ‘Where’ve you been?’ he calls from another room.

      ‘I walked into the village with Kat to get some shopping, not that it’s any of your business.’

      He lets out a low whistle. ‘Oh good. I was starting to worry you’d been eaten by a snake. They’re big enough around here to devour a human. It would’ve been a dreadful shame if you’d run into one.’

      ‘You’re hilari—’ I turn a corner and put my head around the door of the room I think he must be in. Then I let out a shriek and nearly drop my shopping. ‘You’re naked!’

      He glances down at himself. ‘Your powers of observation get more efficient by the day.’

      I blush crimson red and turn around so I don’t have to look at him. ‘What are you doing without any clothes on?’ I ask, trying to ignore the edge of hysteria in my voice.

      ‘Getting an early lunch.’

      ‘I meant why are you doing it naked?’

      ‘Well, why not, eh?’

      I make myself take a deep breath and count to ten. ‘Julian, you can’t walk around with no clothes on.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because you’re not alone. I’m staying here too and I don’t want to see that!’ I wave a hand over my shoulder to indicate his bits.

      ‘Don’t look then.’ He laughs. ‘If it annoyed you so much you wanted to leave, that would be fine with me. You said you could outdo me on the annoying housemate front. You obviously haven’t begun yet so I thought I’d get a head start on proving you wrong.’

      ‘Well, I’m asking you nicely,’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘Please would you put some clothes on?’

      ‘Why should I?’

      ‘Because that’s offensive!’

      ‘This is my house just as much as yours. You can walk around naked too, if you want. I won’t mind.’ I can hear the smirk in his voice.

      ‘If there were police around, you’d be arrested for indecent exposure.’

      ‘Only in public. Not in my own home. If it offends you so much, you know where the front door is.’

      I glare at the empty room so I don’t have to turn around and face all of him. He’s doing this to annoy me. He’s doing it for a reaction, and I’ve given him one. I should’ve ignored it. All I’ve done is given him what he wanted.

      And I cannot let him win.

      I paste a grin on my face and spin around, waltzing into the kitchen, keeping my eyes focused upwards. ‘Actually it doesn’t bother me at all. Just surprised that someone with a willy that small would be eager to show it off, that’s all.’

      He laughs. ‘Well, your sense of humour is equivalent to a childish six-year-old’s and you’re quite happy to show that off.’

      I glance at his smirking face. ‘Just so you know, you can try to offend me all you like, but I’ve met men who are far worse than you’ll ever be, and nothing you do will work.’

      ‘Ah, but it won’t hurt to make sure, will it?’ He winks at me.

      I’ve never had violent tendencies before, but I’ve suddenly started wondering how difficult it would be to dig up this floor and bury the body.

      I smile at him instead, forcing my eyes to stay upwards and not start wandering down his smooth chest… Focus, Wendy. Focus.

      ‘Wow.’ I tear my eyes away from the vast expanse of bare skin and look around the room instead. It’s the biggest kitchen I’ve ever seen.

      He laughs. ‘Yeah. I thought you might like it… Well, you’re probably used to big kitchens, but this is off the scale. There’s a big cook-y thing over there, and…’

      ‘A cook-y thing?’ I ask, trying not to let out the giggle that wants to escape. ‘Are you really so undomesticated that you can’t identify an oven?’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      I follow the direction he waves his hand in and gasp in delight. ‘An Aga!’

      He scratches the back of his neck. ‘Aye, one of them.’

      Just as I’m about to go over to it, I catch sight of something else out of the corner of my eye. Familiar red and green lettering on a white box. I dump my shopping in a heap and grab it, cuddling it to my chest like a golden chalice. ‘Where did you get these?’ I ask in delight. ‘And a kettle!’ I let out a noise so squeaky that a mouse would be embarrassed to make it.

      He raises an eyebrow and looks at me like I’m not a full loaf, but I don’t care. He’s found PG Tips and a kettle. Eulalie probably had them all along, although they both look new and modern. I look at the kettle out the corner of my eye. It’s shiny white plastic with no hint of two-decade-old grime on it, and there’s no way Julian’s that good a cleaner.

      ‘I brought them with me,’ he says, confirming my worst fears.

      ‘What kind of person brings a kettle on СКАЧАТЬ