Page 13 of Blueprints, Battlelines and Ballrooms
‘The Season starts in a month.A month and a day?’Rosanna tapped his arm.‘You aren’t distracting me from this conversation.What are your intentions with this woman?’
‘I enjoy her company.There’s nothing wrong with spending time with someone who understands you.’He shrugged.‘I’ve not had much of that.’
‘You’re twenty-two.You’ve not had much of anything.You need to see more of life before you consider settling down.’
‘Because you moved so far,’ he snapped.
‘Marriage did not make my world smaller.Quite the opposite.And I did not chafe before, at least not in the way you do.’She pushed the door open.‘You think too much, try to plan too much.Like Benton said, just be young.Enjoy life.Keep things simple.’Rosanna opened the door.The cat shot inside, and she followed.With the snip of the door, he was once again alone on the landing, except for a mild flare of annoyance that had joined him.
Simple.Easy for Rosanna to say.The old envy of his childhood writhed in his chest.She’d always fit so seamlessly into life, into the hotel, and now into her marriage and her future.He’d not ever fit in anywhere.Not with his family, but also not with the other architects who had studied at universities or who’d been articled to architects with established names and solid firms, men with prospects and exciting projects to work on.Men with upper class connections.Had it not been for a builder that was owed a favour from Mr Goodman, and had that builder not owed his father, Johannes would never even have become his student.It did not matter how hard he worked at his drawings.Only money and luck had granted him that opportunity.
Things were different with Mrs Murray.The way she looked at the house plans, the way she spoke about colouring and shading… she understoodsomuch.An outsider like himself, full of passion and skill.What was the harm in considering his future—and maybe a future with her?Living at Number 3, with its noise and a shared room despite being a professional man stifled him, but the alternative of a life alone in a boarding house or in his own rented place did not fill him with anticipation.But to return home at the end of a workday toher?To share a hearth and fire as they discussed his day… The idea warmed him.He might move on to a grown-up life, not this in-between place that was neither childhood nor independence.
If she came.
Which she likely wouldn’t.
If only he’d burnt that sketch at the end of last summer.
He’d barely finished the thought when a hack rolled to a stop in front of his home.Excitement propelled him down the stairs a little too fast, for he stumbled over the last one and almost came face to face with the pavement.The driver opened the door, revealing Mrs Murray inside.Johannes offered his hand, and she leant heavily against his arm as she clambered out of the carriage.
‘I don’t think I will ever adjust to the cold.How do you manage it?’She pulled her navy blue coat tighter at the neck, then smoothed its lengths over her grey and green tartan skirt.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Murray.’
‘Apologies.My mind… I forget pleasantries.There are so many more things in the world to discuss, and I have so few opportunities to discuss them that I often skip that part.Mama is forever clucking at me, but it seems a waste to spend so much energy on manners.Good afternoon, Mr Hempel.I have been looking forward to this all week.Does the society meet at your home?Have I kept the other members waiting?’
Johannes rubbed the back of his neck.‘I have a confession.The society currently only has two members.You and I.’
Mrs Murray pulled back a little, tensing.
‘I did try to find others,’ he rushed out an explanation, ‘to join.But my sister is only interested in decorating houses, not their construction, and my neighbour Elise has so many other obligations with her fundraising, and my brother… Well, he’s more about sport and being out of doors.Truth be told, you are the first young person I’ve met who shares my interest so thoroughly.But if it seems inappropriate if it’s just the two of us, I understand.I can try to get you an invitation to a talk at the Academy, but—’
‘But they will not allow a woman into their precious sanctum for anything more than that.’Mrs Murray took out her purse and handed the driver a coin.He slipped it into his pocket, tugged his cap, then climbed back onto the board.With a whistle and a flick of the reins, the little conveyance drove away.
‘I did not grow up with so many rules and propriety.’She snipped her purse shut.‘My mother seems to be a different person here.Provided she does not discover that the society is on thesmallerside, I would love to join.’She frowned.‘What exactly does this society do?’
‘Appreciates old and new architecture.I thought we might have an excursion each week and alternate between looking at something old and something new.We can discuss styles, concepts, anything we think of.Anything that we can’t discuss with others, maybe.I thought we might start with the old.’
‘And next week, something new?’
He nodded.‘This week, we can start right here on Honeysuckle Street with a hidden London treasure.’He offered his elbow.She reached out to take it, then hesitated.Something flitted across her face, an uncomfortable emotion he couldn’t quite read.The look sank him all the same.
‘I am sorry if my sketch offended you,’ he blurted.‘My folder normally just has ideas for carvings, or things I see that are inspiring.I did not realise that one had sneaked in.It should not have been amongst my sketches, and—’
‘Are theyalldrawn from life?’
Her question caught him like a punch, so blunt and unexpected he could only stammer, ‘Some of them… I mean, occasionally I… A gentleman should not talk about such things.’
Just one corner of her lips turned into a smirk.Mischievous, that’s what that look was.Her eyes sparkled as she stifled a giggle.‘I have been married, Mr Hempel.I am no naïf.’And she sidled up to him and tucked her small hand into the crook of his arm.Her fingers rested so lightly on him she barely indented the fabric of his coat, their weight hardly enough to place pressure on his skin.And yet, the little movement made his heart sing like the robins overhead.‘Although for all that independence, I scarcely know who I am in this city.I was my own woman for a time, in charge of my own home.Now I have returned to living with my parents.I am practically a girl again.’
‘I know how you feel,’ he said, as he directed their walk along the path, and then across the street to the vacant block that had once been Number 6.‘I can’t tell if I am my own man now I am employed, or if I’m still a child with set dinner times and rules about making my bed and cleaning my shoes.After Rosie moved out, I thought I might get my own room, but my other sister Beatrice was too fast.Both Elliot and I are in employment, and yet we still share a bedroom like we are barely out of nursery.’
He paused at the gates to Number 10 to call between the bars.One of the caretakers crossed into the grounds.He took a key and unlocked the side gate, then ushered Mrs Murray through.
‘Forgive my disbelief,’ she said.‘But it is much easier for a man.If your family bothers you so much, why not take rooms in a boarding house?’
‘That’s the other side of the coin, isn’t it?’he confessed.‘For all the disruption and noise, I’d be lonely without them.I can’t imagine coming home to empty rooms.’
