Page 60 of Fe
“Sure that’s it?” Ripley asked.
Fen went round and checked. “Yes.”
“I’ll move everything to the bottom of the stairs.”
“Thank you.”
While Ripley did that, Fen wiped down surfaces in the kitchen and bathroom, swept the floor and took a few photos to show he was leaving the place as it looked when he’d moved in. He didn’t want to lose his deposit. He also took pictures of the meters.
When Ripley came for the last items, he said, “Harry’s outside. Come and stand by the door downstairs while we load up.”
Fen nodded.
He fell asleep in the car and only woke when Ripley nudged him. He realised he’d been leaning against Ripley and pushed himself upright.
“We’re here,” Ripley said.
Fen looked out of the window. “Where’s here?”
“Islington.”
Fen climbed out of the car and looked up at the town house. “Is all of it yours? The whole house?”
“Yes.”
A few minutes later, the house alarm was deactivated, Fen and all his belongings were in the hall and Harry had gone. The place was much more modern inside than he’d expected. White walls and a wide-planked wooden floor. Stairs rose ahead of them and there were rooms on either side.
“Is the house listed?” Fen asked.
“Grade II. It’s over two hundred years old. An extra-wide Georgian town house with four bedrooms.” Ripley hung up his coat and held out his hand for Fen’s. He put them on a hook by the door.
“Do you want something to eat? Drink? Or shall I show you round first?”
Fen nodded. “Better tell me what I can’t touch.”
“Touch what you like, just don’t break anything.” He hesitated. “I’m joking.”
“You want me to break something?”
“I want you to be comfortable and if you break something accidentally, don’t worry about it. Unless it’s my coffee machine. Then you need to worry. That was a joke too. Sort of.”
“Pity you can’t kintsugi everything.” Especially hearts. And coffee machines.
Ripley smiled.
His home was like something out of a magazine. Most of the walls were white but some had been painted in a striking blue. The kitchen was twice as big as Fen’s bedsit and the room it was in stretched across the back of the house, separated from the garden by a bank of tall sash windows, and bifold doors.
“Is that the garage?” Fen asked.
“No, it’s a summer house. Luckily, I managed to rent a garage a short distance away.”
Lucky to have a garage? Lucky full stop.Fen was only half-taking in what Ripley was telling him. He’d already forgotten how to switch on the TV. The coffee machine looked too complicated and was definitely nothing he’d touch until he’d watched Ripley use it a few times. And maybe not even then. Fen was overwhelmed by everything: the pictures on the walls, the geometric metal wolf and bear heads, the tiles in the bathroom, the soft furnishings. The kintsugi globe sat alone on a side table.Hello, old friend.
Ripley had one room full of books, shelves floor to ceiling with a sliding ladder, and a desk in front of the window. There was even a basement with exercise equipment.
“I just bought this bike,” Ripley said. “You can cycle in the Alps or down the Big Sur.”
“Along city streets too? You could pretend you were dodging traffic.”
