Chapter 5
Chapter Five
‘Right then,’ Daniel announced, clapping his hands. ‘Time for the grand tour of Matilda’s Museum of Madness.’
Fern had just finished her tea – miraculously unpoisoned by whatever ancient dust particles lived in that teapot – when Daniel encouraged her to follow him towards the back of the shop. ‘Kitchen…’
Fern poked her head around the door. It was small, with a table and a couple of chairs against the back door.
‘The living room,’ he said as they stepped into the room next to the kitchen. Fern immediately noticed the curtains. One red. One green. One a mystery colour.
Fern pressed her fingers to her temples. ‘I feel like I’m on drugs. Who chose this colour scheme?’
Daniel smirked. ‘Welcome to Matilda’s world. Come on, you’ll love what’s upstairs. It’s the best part.’ He gestured for her to follow him up the rickety-looking stairs.
The moment she set foot on the first step, the stairs let out a noise – not just a creak but a full-bodied, theatrical, whale-in-distress wail.
Fern jumped back, hand flying to her chest. ‘Did the stairs just scream at me?’
Daniel patted the banister fondly. ‘Ah, yes. That, my friend, is the acoustics of a house with character. Just keep moving, and try not to step on the fourth one unless you fancy an impromptu slide.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’
Daniel merely gave her a you’ll see smile.
Fern took another few steps, and as her foot connected with the fourth stair, the whole thing sank.
With a yelp, she lurched forward, arms flailing, trying to grab hold of anything to stop herself from falling face-first into the abyss of creaky doom.
The closest thing to grab was Daniel and she crashed straight into him.
He caught her instantly, hands gripping her waist, and the sudden impact thrust them both back a step, leaving her in his arms.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
She was pressed against his chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. His hands, warm and steady, lingered at her waist and when she looked up, her breath caught.
They were close.
Like, ridiculously close.
Lips only centimetres apart, his breath warm against hers.
His gaze flickered down to her lips for the briefest second. Then he grinned. ‘If you wanted me to sweep you into my arms, you could’ve just asked.’
Fern gave him a playful shove. ‘Oh, shut up.’
He laughed, releasing her, and she straightened, her face feeling flushed.
‘I’d suggest you try to remember to avoid the fourth stair unless you’re angling to fall for me again.
’ She shooed him on. When they reached the top of the stairs, she blinked twice.
The landing looked like it belonged in ten different time periods at once.
The wallpaper was a clashing mix of faded florals and geometric Art Deco swirls.
The ceiling boasted a brass chandelier missing half its crystals, and the floor was covered by at least three different rugs, none of which matched.
He swung open a door to reveal the bedroom. The first thing she saw? The moose head. It loomed above the four-poster bed, with its enormous glass eyes staring straight into her soul.
‘Oh my God,’ she gasped. ‘How do you sleep with that looking at you?’
‘Usually with both eyes closed.’ He grinned. ‘Let me introduce you to Maurice! He’s been here longer than me. Great listener, this one.’
Fern dragged her horrified gaze around the room.
The bed anchored the room and was ornate and wooden, the kind of gothic four-poster that suggested those who dared to sleep in it might mysteriously perish in the night. And worst of all? It was the only bed.
Fern turned to Daniel. ‘Is there another bedroom?’
‘Nope.’ He smiled widely. ‘This is the only one. But it’s very spacious. Loads of room,’ he said, gesturing grandly.
‘You are not suggesting we…’ Her mouth fell open as she struggled to find the words.
‘Come now, we’re hardly strangers! We own the same shop and—’
‘Er, I hate to burst your bubble,’ she interrupted, ‘but I’m Matilda’s sole beneficiary and so the sole owner of all of this.
And as much as you’re gorgeous…’ She faltered as her thoughts turned in a very inappropriate direction, but then shook her head.
She couldn’t go there now! ‘…There is no way I’m sleeping with you. Or with a moose watching over me!’
Before he could reply, she yanked open another door to what turned out to be the bathroom, and shrieked. (This shop was not doing her vocal cords any favours.)
‘What is that?’ she asked, staring at the bathtub, which was currently occupied by a creepy Victorian-age mannequin.
Daniel stuck his head around the door, looking completely unfazed. ‘That’s Eleanor!’
Fern’s eye twitched. ‘Why is there a mannequin in the bathtub?’
‘Matilda used to have her in the shop to model clothes, but they became very attached and so Matilda moved her up here. She said they were like best friends, and Eleanor kept the place from feeling lonely at night. I just haven’t yet got round to moving her.’
Fern clutched the doorframe, taking deep breaths.
‘I need a drink,’ she muttered.
Daniel clapped his hands together. ‘Brilliant! There’s a pub down the road. We’ll celebrate your newly inherited business and home, and you can tell me all about how excited you are to be my new housemate.’
‘I won’t be here long enough to be your housemate, and I’ll have to give the pub a miss. I’m off to grab a bed at the local B&B.’
‘You won’t find anything as good as this place.’
‘I’ll take my chances.’
As she followed Daniel down the stairs, dodging the traitorous fourth step, she caught herself smiling. Because, somehow, against all odds, Daniel had made this place feel almost magical, and she didn’t hate it as much as she’d wanted to.