Chapter Five
Bastian
The kitchen at Moorely House was one of my favourite places to while away long winter hours.
It had high ceilings, polished copper pans adorning the walls, and a padded window seat that looked out over the gardens and down to the paddocks where I could see the horses wrapped in thick rugs eating hay off the frozen ground.
The kitchen was heated by an old Aga range cooker that turned out a steady supply of baked goods this time of year because Lizzie always had to be doing something.
I’d come to Derbyshire to shoot a wedding nearly two weeks ago, and I’d intended to go straight back to London, but then my eldest brother, August, had invited me to stay and I’d now taken up residence at his country estate like a stray cat.
Technically, it was Lizzie’s estate, but since they were married, I supposed it was his too.
Part of me wondered if I was starting to outstay my welcome despite the fact that the house was so big I could easily keep out of everyone’s way, but the rest of me desperately wanted to stay because I liked the company.
Not that my flatmates in London weren’t my friends, but they were always so busy with their own lives and jobs and relationships, and I always felt like the odd one out.
Especially because I was away so much that I’d never really had a chance to bond with them.
Outside, thick clouds began to drift across the sky, and I idly wondered if it was about to snow.
“Are you weather watching?” Lizzie asked, appearing through the kitchen door in her customary old jumper and thick socks.
I never understood why some country people, especially if they were horsey, basically wore jumpers that were at least twenty years old and socks that looked like they’d fall apart at a moment’s notice despite having money to buy new ones.
I adored Lizzie—she was warm and friendly and desperately sweet—and I still wasn’t sure what August had done to deserve her.
Not in a bad way, but my brother had definitely been a twat at university—one of those rugby lads who thought everything was banter, wore horrific Halloween costumes, and once destroyed a hotel ballroom on a night out, resulting in the dissolution of his university’s men’s rugby team.
I thought meeting Lizzie had softened him out because apparently the first night they’d met she’d been completely unimpressed with him while he’d thought she was a walking princess.
After that, he’d decided to get his act together in the hope she’d give him a chance.
She had. But it had taken two years. She’d finally accepted a date on the day of their graduation. Now they were married with a seven-month-old baby—my chubby, adorable nephew, Milo.
I’d once asked Lizzie why she’d given August so many chances, and she’d said August didn’t have a bad heart, but he needed to get his act together and sort himself out.
“That’s not my job,” she’d added. “I’m not going to fix a man.
I want someone who’ll see his own flaws and work on them himself.
It’s not my job to do that for him. I am not his mother or his therapist.”
It was something I’d taken to heart and tried to apply to my own relationships. I thought it had saved me a little heartache here and there.
“Not really,” I said, glancing back out at the window. “Just thinking.”
“Penny for your thoughts?” Lizzie asked as she pulled a tray of cheese scones out of the Aga. “Or scone? That’s probably a better deal.”
I swung my legs off the window seat and walked over to Lizzie, taking one of the proffered scones and holding it in my hands.
It was still hot, and I passed it from palm to palm until it began to cool.
There were crispy wisps of cheese on the top, and I picked them off while leaning against the counter.
“Do you mind having me here?”
“No, of course not,” Lizzie said, seemingly baffled by my question. “We love it.”
“Are you sure? I feel like I’m imposing.”
“You’re not, honestly.” She smiled at me as she slid the rest of the scones onto a wire rack.
“August and I were actually going to ask if you wanted to move up here. We’ve got plenty of space, and it would be cheaper than London.
And we wouldn’t expect you to spend time with us or be our nanny or anything. ”
“I like Milo though.”
“Yes, but you won’t like him if you have to spend every hour with him. He’s cute, but he’s not that cute.”
“True.” I laughed. “By the way, in a couple of months, think about what you want to do for his birthday. We’ll do him a first birthday shoot, and since it’ll be June, the weather should be good.”
“Will do.” She looked at me fondly. “What about my other thought?”
My face pinched, and I looked down at my scone.
It was a generous offer, and I knew it had come from a place of love, but at the same time, I didn’t want to keep drifting around from place to place.
I wanted somewhere I could put down roots and finally call home.
London had never felt like that to me, and I didn’t think Derbyshire would either, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.
“I’ll think about it,” I said eventually because I knew it would be silly not to if only to save myself a little bit of money. I’d have the grounds here too, and I loved being able to get outside and think. The quiet solitude always helped calm my rushing thoughts.
It made me think about Anders and what he’d once said about walking on the beach and how it did the same for him.
I smiled, a familiar feeling of warmth twisting inside my chest. It was something I’d started experiencing at the end of last year whenever I got an email from Anders, and now it seemed to appear whenever I thought about him.
Sometimes I wondered if it was strange to have these feelings for a man I’d only met once, even if we talked regularly.
We’d never moved beyond email, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t change how I felt.
I just wished I could see him again, that I could find some excuse to go and visit him. But a quick jaunt to the Yorkshire coast wasn’t on the cards unless I could find a reason for it. I didn’t want to force myself on him.
Shoving half the warm scone into my mouth, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. There was an email notification at the top, and my chest fluttered when I saw it was from Anders. I opened it, knowing I’d read it quickly now and again later at a more leisurely pace when I could absorb every word.
“You okay?” Lizzie asked as I scanned my screen. “Bas? Bad news?”
“No, it’s fine.” I wondered if I’d looked worried, which was odd because I didn’t feel worried. “Just an email from Anders.”
“Yeah? He okay?”
“He’s fine. He was just making a suggestion…
I told him I’ve been looking for new places to shoot this year, and he said there’s a really pretty castle-esque country house where he lives.
Right on the cliff above the bay.” I bit my lip.
Going to check it out would give me the excuse I’d been looking for to go and see Anders, and the fact that he’d suggested it meant he’d been thinking about me.
I read the message again, my heart stopping as I read one of the final lines. If you do come to see it, maybe we could get dinner.
That was… that was an invitation. From Anders.
Oh shit. What was I going to do?
“That sounds perfect,” Lizzie said, unaware of my inner turmoil. I’d told her a bit about Anders and our emails, but I’d neglected to mention I’d started catching feelings. I barely wanted to admit that to myself. “You should go and check it out. See if it works for you.”
“Mmm,” I hummed in agreement, eating the last bit of my scone although my stomach was roiling like I was out at sea. “You think?”
I felt Lizzie looking at me, and when I glanced up, I found her soft, dark eyes assessing me shrewdly.
“Yes, you should. You’ve been emailing him for months, so you’re at least friends at this point.
And going to visit the place for the day, and even meeting up for dinner, doesn’t have to be anything more than that. ”
“What if…” I couldn’t bring myself to say anything else. I didn’t know how Lizzie had figured out I might want more, but maybe it was obvious from my behaviour. I’d never been a particularly subtle person, and I’d always worn my heart on my sleeve and let my emotions be written across my face.
“What if you want more?” she asked. I nodded, suddenly terrified. “Then go for that too. You don’t know unless you try. And if Anders, a man you told me is notoriously grumpy, has mentioned it to you, it’s probably a good sign.” She handed me another scone. “Go for it, Bas. That’s all you can do.”
I opened my mouth to say more, but then the back door burst open, and I heard August’s booming voice and Milo’s giggling from the wet room off the kitchen.
They appeared two seconds later, August holding Milo in his arms, looking windswept and happy.
Like his wife, my brother now seemed to spend his time in holey jumpers and jeans, and it was almost comical considering he’d once insisted jumpers were for old people who couldn’t get laid.
“Look who we found! It’s Mummy and Uncle Bas! Oooh, and they have scones for me.” He swooped Milo towards us like an aeroplane, making him shriek with delight. August helped himself to a scone, handing Milo to Lizzie and then looking between us. “You two look like you’re plotting something.”
“Obviously,” Lizzie said.
“Against you,” I added as I pulled apart my second scone, which was still warm.
“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t,” August said with one of his boundless grins.
“Did Lizzie mention our suggestion to you? About you moving here? I promise you’ll have your own rooms, and we won’t bother you!
We can set you up a studio too, and we can get a lock for the door so when Mister Milo is up and active, he won’t destroy your stuff. ”
“She did.”
“Bit bloody late if I hadn’t,” Lizzie said.
“True.” August shrugged. “Oh well. What do you think?”
“I said I’d think about it.”
August looked slightly crestfallen for a second, opened his mouth, and then seemed to think better of it like Lizzie had suddenly shot him a look from behind me that told him to quit while he was ahead.
“Sounds like a good plan,” August said finally before he started talking to Lizzie about the walk he and Milo had taken around the estate and some things he’d noticed that needed sorting.
I knew their offer was generous, and it would be silly of me not to consider it, but my heart was already somewhere else, lingering on the coast, waiting to see if I could find something there.