HOPE

HIS HOUSE WAS ENORMOUS. We were on the outskirts of the city, turning off the main road and onto a private drive that wound from left to right, heading slowly for a tall row of trees that adjoined the track. Passing through, a mansion came into view.

"This is where you live?" I asked, looking at the expanse of stone and glass, tall enough for any birds circling the roof to need to stop and rest halfway round.

"Sometimes," Rob replied. "Do you like it?"

The front door opened the moment the car stopped, a butler stepping out and nodding towards us.

"Have we gone back in time?" I whispered in Rob's ear as he headed up the broad steps to the door.

"Don't you have a butler?" he replied.

"Welcome back, Mr Davies," the butler said. "The guest suite has been prepared as you requested."

"And the coffee?"

"Is coming to the boil now. If you would like to take your guest through to the dining room, I shall bring it at once."

"Excellent, thank you, Potter."

The entrance hall was small but it was the only thing in the house that was. We passed through it into a broad corridor filled with statues and ornaments. The butler vanished and I had to jog to catch up with Rob who mentioned a word or two about each object that we passed.

"Third century, Rome. Mesopotamian. Greek funeral urn. Ah, now this one's interesting. What do you think this is?"

I looked down at a sparkle of jewellery laid on a plain velvet cloth. "A necklace?"

"A necklace worn by Cleopatra," he said with a smile.

"You're not serious?"

"It would be cool if it was, right?"

"It's beautiful," I said, running my fingers along it, the light catching the blues and greens of inset stones amongst intricate metalwork.

He nodded, smiling as he did so. "As are you. Now, are you hungry?"

It was my turn to nod. "Famished."

"Well I know you might prefer to eat the leaves off the bushes outside but I think Potter has probably arranged an alternative option."

I pouted at him, scowling at his joke. He just laughed and walked on, leaving me to follow him around the corner into an enormous dining room.

It faced onto the gardens, light streaming in through the huge windows. There was a long dark wood table with chairs for at least a dozen people. Two places had been laid out at the right hand side, near the portrait of a stern looking nobleman. "Relative of yours?" I asked, pointing at it as I sat down in the seat Rob offered.

"Sir Malcolm Davies, friend of Cromwell. Quite the scandal at the time as the rest of the family couldn't stand the man."

"How shocking."

"And I have it on good authority that he put the jam on scones first, and then the cream."

"Appalling behaviour," I said, trying not to giggle. “Everyone knows you do it the other way round.”

Potter appeared before I could say anything else, carrying two silver trays piled high with food. It was a long time before I said anything else, I was too busy eating, not realising just how hungry I was until the smell of cooked bacon hit my nostrils.

I began to worry as I ate. I had nothing to offer Rob. I hadn't told him about me. He didn't know how poor I was, what my background was, that I had no belongings, that I was basically homeless. I waited for the dreaded questions. I could tell they were coming.

He sat and drained his coffee before pouring out another cup, leaning back in his chair and sighing. "I needed that."

I nodded. "What about your bet?"

"What about it?"

"Don't you need to tell your friend that you won?"

"Already done. A shiny pound coin will be waiting for me next time I see him."

"And when's that?"

"Tomorrow. I've cancelled everything today so I can get you settled in."

"Settled in?"

"You are staying, right?"

"I don't know. Am I?"

"Of course you are. When you've finished eating, I'll give you the tour and show you your room. I've ordered some fresh clothes for you, they should be here soon. I hope you don't mind but I had to guess your measurements."

"I'm sure they'll be fine. Thank you."

He shrugged. "Wait until you see them before you thank me. I'm not the best judge of what's fashionable. You like tartan jumpsuits, right?"

"Love 'em. Makes me feel like I'm on the Crystal Maze."

"The what?"

"You really don't watch much TV do you?"

He shook his head. "Don't get much chance."

I pushed away my plate a minute later, unable to manage another bite. "That was good," I said. "Very good."

"Glad you liked it."

He showed me round the house after we'd eaten. It took an hour. The place was like a maze. There was one corridor after another and so many rooms, my head started to spin, trying to keep up with the layout of the place. Eventually, we ended up inside a bedroom that faced onto the front of the house. Looking out of the window, I could see the car down on the drive, the ribbon of track beyond it heading over to the row of trees, the city shrinking away beyond that.

"This is your room," Rob said, perching on the edge of the four poster bed. "What do you think?"

"I think it's perfect," I replied.

"Well, you get settled in. There's a bathroom through there if you want to freshen up. I've got some paperwork to run through with Potter but I'll see you for dinner. Think you can cope without me?"

I looked at the two huge bookcases, the shelves filled with leather bound volumes. "I'm sure I can find something to do," I said, watching him go.

I showered. The cuts were beginning to heal but the bruises on my neck were still tender to the touch. I thought about the hands grabbing my neck last night, how close they'd been to cutting off my airway. The thought made me wince.

When I was done, I grabbed a thick white towel from the rack and wrapped it around myself, walking through to the bedroom and collapsing into the armchair by the bookcase. I reached out for the nearest volume, wanting to distract myself from thinking too much. If I thought too much, the fear would swell up in me again. What if they found out I was here? What if they were still looking for me? What then?