Page 33 of Only Ever You

Bash’s thumb came up. “Great.”

His mother said something to him then, and it was moments like this where Faye wished she’d paid more attention in her secondary school’s French class. The part about assigning genders to inanimate objects had been the clincher and she’d given up. The few phrases she knew were from what she’d picked up around Bash.

Michèle wasn’t subtle at all with how she glanced in her direction as she spoke, and the otherwise healthy tint of pink on Bash’s cheeks blotted a shade darker. Awkward as ever, Faye turned down her eyes and studied the biscuity brown and gold pattern on the hallway runner as Bash spoke a clipped French in return. She wasn’t physically prepared for how much of that gravelly accent she would hear from him whilst they were here.

“It’s alright, Faye. I don’t understand them either.” Arthur’s kind-hearted smile was the same as Bash’s, and Faye knew exactly where he’d inherited it from. She wouldn’t know it now, with how Arthur’s hair neatly parted down one side had aged to various shades of grey, but those graduation photos reminded her he’d been a fiery redhead in his youth.

Her lips curved in a pleasant, amused smile in return.

French interaction over, Michèle said to them both, “I have snacks prepared in the kitchen for you. Why don’t you take Faye’sthings upstairs” – she directed that to Bash – “and I will warm up the croissants.”

Onlyherthings? Faye’s gaze fell on Bash’s hand wrapped around the strap of his bag.

“Homemade?” He preened, cheeks still blushed from whatever his mother had said to him.

Michèle gawked like it was a scandal to ask. “Bien sûr!”

Of course.Faye recognised that at least, if not from just Michèle’s tone, before she slipped off to the kitchen.

Bash nudged her arm when his mother was out of sight. “I’ll show you where your room is.”

“Take your time,” Arthur said kindly from behind them.

Faye let herself be led to the staircase where Bash left his bag tucked against the wall.

“So the main house has four bedrooms,” he said. “My parents’ room, obviously. And three guests. Everything’s really spacious so I reckon you’ll be comfy.”

Thespaciouspart Faye already knew, but Bash said it so humbly that it passed her by. She didn’t distract herself by looking at the pictures and paintings on the walls, or the view from the window which may as well have been as tall as her on the upstairs landing, when she had plenty of time to explore over the next few days.

Turning down one of two hallways, Bash continued, “Maman’s already told me that I’m staying in the annexe so the girls can have a room for themselves.”His nieces.Which explained to Faye why he’d left his bag downstairs. “But, you get the en-suite.” He winked and grinned over his shoulder as if the en-suite was a luxury. Though having a bathroom to herself was considerate of his parents, given that she’d be sharing one with strangers otherwise.

“Will you be alright all the way down in the annexe?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine.” Bash shrugged it off like everything else. No worry ever seemed to stick to him. Not in this sense, anyway, or maybe just in this house.

“Did you design any of this?” Faye twirled her finger in a general gesture after they moved past one open door and stopped at another.

“Only the kitchen and dining room in the main house, but all of the annexe is my design.Mamanwasn’t too fussed about having control over that since it’s for guests to enjoy.” Beneath Bash’s casual veneer, Faye knew he’d be proud of his work. He would’ve pulled out all of the stops and done his best designs for what his parents would’ve wanted.

It was rare that she ever got to experience any of his sketches come to life in person – not in the way he was able to see hers. Most of the clients he worked with wanted their personal properties designed, meaning only those who needed to know were privy, and it was more than just “decoration”. Some of these homes were living, breathing works of art composed of hand-picked finishes to reflect natural light just right, with precisely arranged furniture to create flow. Even Bash’s most minimalist interiors that she’d only ever seen through photographs in architectural magazines had hidden gems which were truly unique.

Faye knew without having explored yet that– “You did good, Bash. It’s lovely.”

She didn’t miss the quick tug in the corner of his mouth at the compliment.

“We’ll let you snoop later.” He knew her so well, it was almost annoying. “But for now … ”

Bash widened the door they’d stood at for half a minute, and Faye wasn’t able to hold in her gasp.

The pine scented room at the back of the house overlooked acres of lawn and the trees and hedges that penned it in through two old-style paned windows. Beyond, the postcard worthy Shropshire landscape stretched for miles.

Faye moved straight past the queen sized bed, depositing her bag on the cream carpeted floor along the way, andstared out. She knew then that she’d been in London for far too long. She hardly ever left.

Her father and step-mother lived in Oxford, which was as far as she ever left the general area of London when runningBakedallowed for it. Her mother and El’s father who she saw more often were based on the outskirts of Sevenoaks, which hardly constituted leaving greater London at all.

“This view is incredible,” she gawked.

“It is.” Behind her, Bash’s voice turned misty and wistful. “I wish Matt and I had grown up here to get to see this every day. I hope my kids one day can have this too.”

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