Chapter 2
Two
“Lola! You’ve kept me waiting.” Imani’s tone was severe but her eyes were teasing.
Could she tell what I’d been doing all morning while she was waiting? Did I have a smear of honey somewhere?
I followed my mentor into her studio. I’d spent much of the last few years here.
I’d studied here, worked here, and now we were prepping for our next big project.
Her studio wasn’t what you’d call ‘cosy.’ It reminded me of a space Alfie might have designed for himself.
Her studio sported a glass boardroom table and a smaller, also glass, desk.
On the table were four miniature models, our designs and plans on paper next to each. I imagined one of her other students had spent hours getting this ready. That used to be my job.
Imani sat as I studied the models. Her head was shaved smooth, her orange dress a stunning contrast against the ebony of her skin. She sipped her tea, the scent of ginger and lemon heating the cool feel of the room.
“These look fantastic.” I didn’t need to ask her if she was happy with them, I could tell by her face that she was. She was excited too. Imani was a woman always looking for new adventures. Television was a new adventure for her.
She’d been invited to be a judge in a new show about floral sculptures.
‘So, it’s like the Great British Bake Off but with flowers?
’ is what I’d said when she’d first offered me the position as her assistant.
For each round in the competition, Imani would be displaying a design of her own to fit the spec given to the contestants.
An example of the calibre of work she was looking for.
My job was to help design each piece and oversee the construction of it.
Imani would have time for filming but little else.
I would be the boots on the ground and I couldn’t wait.
The themes were fashion, nature, literature and architecture. I scanned the miniature model of the woman in the peony ballgown I’d designed. The blues moving from blue-black to pale sky as the woman spun with an invisible partner, her dress interspersed throughout with white lilies.
For the nature category, I’d designed an elephant. Instead of grey, I wanted to use ‘loud’ colours; fuschia, turquoise, orange, giving me the opportunity to get creative with flowers like lotuses, hydrangeas and marigolds
For literature, I’d been inspired by Beatrix Potter. I smiled at the miniature model of Jemima Puddleduck, she was charming, made from white and blush pink roses, with a marigold Mr fox prowling behind her.
The final category, architecture, had been the most difficult for me to figure out. The fairytale tower would stand ten feet tall, smothered in mosses and flowers of purple and pink. The projects were going to be a challenge but I was ready.
“Did you get my email about the change in location?” Imani asked.
“For filming? No?”
I started to panic. Changing the location site could throw everything off. Not just because I’d based my routine off that commute but because of the weather and the suppliers available on short notice in the area.
“It’s been changed to a historical site in Kent. That’s where you’re from, I believe?”
“Yes…what historical site?” I asked but deep down, I already knew.
“Harrington House. You did some work there, correct?”
“Yes. Correct.”
“The producers were contacted and given a better offer apparently.” She continued on, chatting about how she hoped I still had contact with the suppliers in that area but I was distracted, gnawing on my lip. I didn’t need to ask who’d given them that better offer and why.
Alfie Tell was going to be a pain in my ass till death do we part.
Richmond, a part of London famous for its parks, palaces and river walks, was a world away from where I lived.
Alfie had sold his house months ago and without a second thought had bought another, though judging from the size I expected this one cost significantly more.
I’d asked him why bother selling the old one and he said this one suited him better.
What he didn’t say was that this one was much closer to Imani’s office where I spent so much of my time.
It also had a much bigger garden for me to enjoy.
It was quicker to get to his place from work than my own, so I’d spent many nights here.
Yet it never felt comfortable. Despite Alfie introducing blue into his wardrobe, the palette for the rest of his world still needed some work.
I was going to have to get used to it now that I was officially moving in.
The forty minute walk to his house gave me time to consider how I was going to approach his meddling. It seemed like a minor thing and really, he was being helpful ? I was glad to be able to work in my hometown again ? but that wasn’t the point.
I approached the solid oak gates leading to his property and went up on tip toe to press the intercom buzzer. I heard a click and waved at whichever member of his staff was peering at me through the camera. A moment later, the gates swung open.
I made my way down the long drive that eventually opened out onto an expansive forecourt. There was a lily-filled pond to one side and on the second floor of the house, I'd have a view of the river.
The house was all limestone, slate and bespoke, oak windows. The inside was sleek, modern. I was extremely careful to wipe off my shoes before I went in.
Unlike his other properties, this one had some life.
He’d added hints of blue, and I had brought plants.
Still, as beautiful as the pothos and syngoniums were, they couldn’t make this house a home to me.
I yearned for the cosiness of my gran's crocheted afghans, for the predictable unpredictability of a temperamental water heater. Marriage was supposed to be about meeting in the middle. Where our middle was, I wasn’t sure yet.
“Lola, love!” Ada came down the hallway to greet me. As Alfie’s former nanny, now housekeeper and Elliot's wife, she held a place of high esteem in Alfie’s personal world. She pulled me into a hug. “Alfie’s in his office. Shall I make you some tea?”
“Can you have it sent up actually? I need to speak to him.”
She arched an amused brow. “He in trouble?”
“Some.”
Ada chuckled. “Oh by the way, your belongings arrived earlier. I had them put in your rooms for you. Alfie said not to unpack them so everything is still in the boxes but if you’d like I can—”
“No, no thank you. I can take care of it.” The idea of someone going through my personal things and arranging them for me felt strange. Alfie had likely never packed or unpacked in his whole life. He’d always had it done for him.
“Alright,” she smiled. “I’m very happy that you’re going to be spending more time here, you know. He’s always in a better mood when you’re around.”
With that on my shoulders, I went to find Alfie.
Not for the first time, I found myself wishing for a segway to help me get around this place.
In my downtime I’d explored the house, only getting lost once.
There were nine bedrooms and twelve bathrooms, along with a steam room, gym, library and home cinema.
Also, two kitchens, three sitting rooms, four offices and my favourite of all ? an underground swimming pool.
Finally, I reached Alfie’s office. I knocked and stepped in, not waiting for a reply.
My beautiful man was typing away on his laptop, the usual array of blueprints and other papers surrounding him. Behind him was a large bay window, framed by deep blue drapes which, in turn, framed the gardens and the river beyond.
As always, he looked at me like a man in the desert finding water. Only now, the desperation had gone. He smiled, only a small one but still, it was just for me.
“Do you have time for me?”
“Always.” He closed his laptop, even though I was sure there were a thousand things that needed his attention. “What is it? Why are you angry?” he asked, obviously noticing the thin line of my mouth.
“Take a guess.” I walked over, perching on the edge of his desk. “Maybe something to do with my job…and you…and interfering…again.”
His brows knitted. “You’re referring to my contacting Julia Whitmore to change the filming location to Harrington?” Julia Whitmore was the producer on the show, a person I wasn’t aware Alfie even knew existed. “I thought you’d be pleased. I know you miss seeing Natalie and Ryan.”
“That’s not the point, Alfie.”
“The point is…I interfered without communicating with you first?” It was a genuine question.
“I thought I was helping. I apologise.” He didn’t sound certain of his own apology.
Apologies, patience and compromise were all new concepts for Alfie.
He was working on it but it was another reason why I was dragging my feet over announcing our engagement.
“You’re still angry.” It was a statement this time, not a question. I watched him recalibrate and reroute. “Relationships are about compromise, correct? I compromise on letting you spend so much time away from me by arranging for that time to be on my property.”
“And will I be watched?” I asked, holding onto my patience.
“You’ll have Maia with you.” His hand rested on my thigh, thumb rubbing circles as he tried to soothe my annoyance away.
Maia. The woman who’d lied to me for over a year.
I hadn’t seen her in months. “I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he said, before I could argue that Maia wasn’t a person I wanted following me around.
“Safe? I’ll be in my hometown for God's sake! Nothing's going to happen to me there.”