Page 25 of Heart of The Night

‘I would’ve thought your past experience with Violet had already familiarised you with this sort of thing.’

He shrugged. ‘I knew I couldn’t be sacked for having a sexual relationship with a colleague – all depending on how it’s conducted, of course – but I wasn’t sure if my position as your boss would alter the situation. Besides, my relationship with Violet was never quite the same – it was never romantic.’

‘Hmm.’ I averted my gaze. Despite his reassurances, I was far from entirely convinced. ‘Have you got the handbook? If it’s not illegal, I’m sure Day & Night must have a policy.’

He looked at me with an arched eyebrow. ‘You haven’t read it?’

I shook my head. ‘Not that section. Didn’t seem relevant at the time.’

His smirk was devilishly teasing. ‘Times change.’

‘Clearly.’

‘Right, hang on.’ He moved out of the sofa. ‘I’ll fetch it. It’s in my study upstairs.’

He had a study upstairs? I needed a tour of this place.

‘What else is upstairs?’ I asked.

From his expression, it was obvious that it had only just dawned on him that he hadn’t shown me much of his flat. ‘Come and see for yourself.’ He proffered his hand. Taking it, I climbed out of the sofa and ascended the stairs with him.

The first thing that caught my attention was the sprawling, panoramic view, disrupted only occasionally by the architecture of the flat itself. London’s rooftops lay like a blanket below us, nestled beneath the vast expanse of the twilight sky, resembling a tapestry woven with intricate urban detail.

Struck with awe, I turned to William, my eyes wide with wonder. ‘Wow.’

‘It’s my refuge.’ His gaze was still lingering on the view, his love for this space apparent in his tranquil expression.

Seeing London from this vantage point was a surreal experience. The city’s hustle and bustle seemed muted, its vibrancy quietened beneath our feet. We were in the heart of it all, yet it felt like we were on a tranquil island far removed from the urban clamour. That tranquillity, however, was promptly shattered by William’s next comment.

‘You see that sofa there?’ His tone was casual, yet tinged with a hint of playfulness. ‘That’s another surface worth testing out.’ He pointed toward a sumptuous seating arrangement in front of an imposing television screen. The setup resembled something you would see in a high-end home theatre, and I couldn’t help but imagine him and Jason, engrossed in a heated football match on the screen.

Yet, the room wasn’t solely a cinematic retreat. It had a versatile quality, serving as a recreational arena as well. Nearby stood a polished pool table, and beside it, a beautifully crafted chess table, its brown wood meticulously engraved, while intricate chess pieces adorned the top.

‘You’ve got an actual chess table?’ I couldn’t hide my amusement.

Youthful excitement shone from his eyes. ‘Fancy a game?’

Though I hated to disappoint him, I said, ‘Maybe another time.’

Exploring the rest of the space, my gaze gravitated toward the walls, which were virtually transformed into the face of an extensive personal library. Bookshelves, packed to the brim, cradled an impressive array of books that spanned various genres and themes, their spines a rainbow of colours and textures. The sheer quantity was enough to steal my breath away. I was aware of William’s penchant for reading, but this – this was a testament to a devotion that far exceeded my expectations.

Awestruck, I asked, ‘Have you read all these?’

‘Almost all of them.’

‘My goodness.’ Letting go of his hand, I sauntered toward the nearest bookshelf. The faint scent of old paper and ink wafted through the air, each book carrying a history of its own – and a fragment of William’s. My fingertips grazed the time-worn spines of countless works, encountering legendary names like Leo Tolstoy, Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. Amidst the sea of volumes, a collection of poems by Lord Byron caught my eye, followed by several works of Mary Wollstonecraft – a woman I profoundly admired.

‘Wollstonecraft?’ I asked, a grin blooming on my face as my fingers lingered on the embossed golden letters of her name.

‘An extraordinary woman,’ William replied musingly. ‘Though, regrettably, significantly ahead of her time.’

‘Truly,’ I said, my finger tapping a gentle homage on the scarlet leather cover, like a secret handshake shared between two sisters across the centuries. A silent, ‘Thank you,’ for paving the way for women like me.

I swivelled back to face William, and I wondered if my admiration of him permeated my gaze. ‘Would you be the William Godwin to my Wollstonecraft?’ I asked, a playful curiosity infusing my words.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with warmth. ‘Are you asking whether I’d rise to your defence and champion your cause, even if it meant putting everything I have at stake?’ His head tilted slightly, his smile widening. ‘I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I’d insist on a happier ending for us – no tragedies involved, no untimely farewells. Can you promise me that?’

So he was acquainted with their whole story. The realisation stirred a flutter in my heart, my chest filling with such profound affection that it felt like it was seizing my breath.

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