by Isla Gordon
‘Don’t wait around for someone else to make your dreams happen, girly,’ her grandmother had told August once. ‘Everybody has dreams, not just you, so they’re rightly all too busy fannying about with their own to take on yours too.’
She taught her to take risks and throw caution to the wind and just see what happens. But lately, since her grandmother had passed, really, if she had to pinpoint a time, August had grown more reserved. Not in personality, but in actions. She’d become more afraid of failing. More fearful of what would happen if things didn’t work out. Moving to Bath had been her step to countering this, to taking a plunge and continuing with her plans even without much of a plan, but what then … ?
So no, she wasn’t successful enough to be able to afford the whole house on Elizabeth Street yet, like her gran had predicted. But this felt like a sign, a kick up the backside sent by her grandma. Live here and remember who you are, who you dream of being.
August turned to Flynn. ‘Well, that’s the end of the tour. What did you think?’
But instead of taking in the vista, he was looking at her soon-to-be house, and then down at something on his phone.
‘Hmm?’ he looked up. ‘Oh, thank you so much, I really appreciate it. You’ve helped me feel like the weekend wasn’t a total washout. I can now go to work tomorrow knowing what city I live in.’
‘Good,’ replied August. ‘That’s enough of a rave review of my services for me. What are you looking at?’ she asked.
‘Is that house number eighteen?’
‘It certainly is. And this is where I need to leave you,’ she said, beaming.
‘Do you live here?’ he asked, turning to her in surprise.
She hesitated. ‘I will be living here.’
Flynn’s lips curved into a smile. ‘You’re here for the open house too?’
But August did not smile. Instead, shocked, she pointed between Flynn and her dream home. ‘You’re here for the open house?’
Chapter 8
Flynn
‘You’re here to view this same flat?’ August asked. She was pointing at him, and at the house that was his last hope of lining up somewhere to live before starting work the next day.
‘Yes,’ Flynn replied. ‘Don’t you already have somewhere to live here in Bath?’ He wasn’t sure why she was so taken aback, but he had a strong gut feeling he was more deserving of this house.
‘B-but … I have to live there … ’ she stammered in response. ‘Why were you creeping around here so early if you were coming for the open house?’
‘Thanks to jet lag I was awake and thought I’d come up and check it out, make sure it wasn’t going to be a waste of time like all the places I trudged around yesterday. Why were you here, “creeping around” so early?’
‘Because I’m going to get that house.’
He laughed. ‘I see, so you were staking claim like someone who turns up hours before a concert begins, to make sure they’re in the front row.’
‘Something like that,’ she said, nodding. ‘Only you have to share the front row with other people. This place is mine, and you – you distracted me.’
‘I did not distract you. How was I supposed to know you were house-hunting?’
‘Well, I am, and I’ve got to live in that house, man.’
Flynn put his hands on his hips. ‘So have I. I have nowhere else to go. This is my last shot.’
‘What are you talking about? There are a million places to live in Bath.’
‘Yes, there are,’ he agreed. ‘But very few of those are available to move into soon. And those that are, that I can afford, well, I’d frankly rather stay in my hotel.’
‘Great!’ August cried. ‘Then you should do that – wait for something you really like to come up.’ She paused and then pointed her finger at his outfit like he’d duped her. ‘Is that why you’re wearing a suit? So that you make the best first impression at the open house? Damn, that was a good idea,’ she muttered.
‘No, it’s like I told you, I’m just out of clean sweatshirts, now even more so,’ he looked down at the dried coffee stain. ‘I packed light coming from Japan. A baby threw up on me on the flight, I then threw tea on my only other jumper yesterday, and I’ve not had a spare minute to hit a launderette because I’ve been viewing flats since I arrived.’
‘Well, it sounds like you have choices. I think you should pick one of them.’
He shook his head. ‘Believe me, they were not good choices.’
She threw her hands up in the air and huffed, which made him smile. ‘Why didn’t you get a flat sorted before you arrived?’ She demanded. ‘You didn’t think to line something up before packing up your life and flying around the world?’ She gasped and lowered her voice. ‘Are you on the run?’
‘No, I’m not on the run,’ Her life must be a lot more dramatic than his to even ask that. ‘Actually, I did have something lined up, a room in a house, but it fell through last minute. How come you’re looking to move already, if you’ve only been here six months? Is there a problem with your flat?’
‘No, it’s fine. It’s great, in fact, you should move in there,’ August teased.
‘Then why? At least tell me why you’re getting all huffy with me and trying to convince me not to go in there.’
August paused for a minute, as if finding her words. ‘There’s just something about this house. I’ve always wanted to live there. As in, not just in the six months I’ve been back in Bath, but like, always, at least for maybe twenty-five years. But although it’s divided into four, maybe five flats, it’s really rare for one to become available. Really rare.’
‘I see. Have you ever been inside?’
‘Just once, only into the entrance hall, when I was little, and my grandmother told me that one day if I worked hard and followed my dreams I could live here,’ August replied.
Flynn assumed she was going to elaborate, but instead, after a moment, she said, ‘You know, this is a really rough neighbourhood.’
‘Is that so?’
She nodded. ‘Crime, debauchery, noisy neighbours.’
‘That’s bad news.’
‘Yep.’ August sighed. ‘You’d be much better off getting a flat down there somewhere, near the park perhaps,’ she pointed down the hill towards Royal Victoria Park.
‘You’re so helpful,’ Flynn smirked. ‘But you know what, if it’s that bad, maybe you should just stay living in the flat you already live in.’
‘No, no, I’ll take one for the team, I’ll move in here, and you can take my old flat.’
‘That doesn’t seem very efficient.’
‘Why does life need to be efficient?’ August shrugged. ‘Anyway, back to your question. You asked me why this house was so important to me. It’s because this house is why I moved back to Bath, in a way. No matter what big thing has happened in my life, from exam results, to break ups, and other life decisions, I’ve come back to Bath, stood at the top of the hill right here in front of this house, and let the magic of the city lights guide me.’
Flynn raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s not really a reason. You’re very welcome to come and hang out on this wall after I move in.’
‘No,’ August cried. ‘I have to live in there. It’s hard to explain but I’ve been waiting so long, like my life has been on hold, to live here. And now I have the chance, and I know that when I live here I can move on and be successful and make my grandmother proud.’
Flynn sighed. ‘I feel like you’re just saying this so I back off.’
‘I’m actually not,’ August laughed. ‘It’s true. I even had my first kiss in front of this house.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘It must have been a good kiss to want to live in front of the memory of it?’ he asked.
‘Yuck, no, it was horrible – wait, was your first kiss good? Did you have a movie-version of a first kiss?’
‘My first kiss was okay; the back of my hand is pretty sexy. But if yours was suc
h a bad memory, why would you want to live somewhere you’d have to stare at that spot every day?’
‘I said it was a bad kiss, not a bad memory,’ August said, wagging a finger at Flynn. ‘You’re not getting me to back down that easily. This is my greatest aspiration; you could live in a million other houses.’
‘I need somewhere to live now – this is my last hope.’
‘You’re in a hotel.’
‘But I can’t stay there for ever, and I’m out of time to house-hunt.’
‘There’s always time. We all have the same number of hours in the day as Beyoncé,’ August reasoned. ‘Anyway, I can’t stay where I am because there are too many memories wrapped up there with my ex-boyfriend.’ The twitching at the corners of her mouth gave away that this wasn’t necessarily the entire truth.
‘That’s a shame,’ Flynn concurred. ‘But I went to the doctor who told me my jet lag may never pass if I’m kept awake by the stress of not having a home to call my own.’
‘That’s not a thing,’ August cried. ‘You’ll be over your jet lag in like, three days. I however, may never get over my ex-boyfriend. Not unless I can move out of there and into here.’
Flynn shook his head. ‘My hotel room has a ghost. A poltergeist actually. It keeps throwing things at me at night – little bottles of shampoo, the TV remote. I need to get out of there before it does me any serious damage.’
‘Well, luckily you work in law, maybe you could sue your ghost. I, on the other hand, have chronic bed-bugs and the only way to get rid of them once and for all is to move out, otherwise they might eat me to death.’ She shrugged at the unavoidable nature of these surely made-up bed-bugs.
‘That’s a big shame for you, but if you have bed-bugs you could bring them onto Elizabeth Street and then be exiled. I think you should stay away. However, I’m not so lucky. I’m pretty sure my hotel is a front for a criminal underworld.’
‘Oh, really, what a shame.’
Flynn nodded. ‘And they’re trying to recruit me because of, you know, my sharp suits, and whatever.’
‘It’s nice to have extra income … ’
‘I just don’t look good in trilbies.’
She laughed. ‘Is that what you think criminals wear?’
‘I’m pretty sure I’ve seen pictures of James Cagney in one.’
‘What a modern reference. But look,’ August sighed. ‘A criminal underworld is one thing, but I need to move out of my current flat because it doubles as a porn studio. It’s very hard to keep the place clean, Flynn.’
His face went mock-serious. ‘Maybe I should move in … ’ August gave his arm a slap and he laughed, and they stood in silence for a few moments before he added. ‘It would be some really nasty porn with all those bed-bugs.’
August checked her watch as another person went into the building. ‘It’s started, and I keep seeing people go in. Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but I have a history with this place, and like I told you, it was my grandmother’s dying wish that I lived here. Not you, me.’
‘It sounded more like a pep talk for you, than a dying wish for her. And didn’t she say that to you when you were a child?’
‘Yes, but, we’re all dying Flynn, all the time, so even back then it still technically counts as a dying wish.’
‘As sobering a message as that is, I can’t give up my new home on a technicality, sorry.’ Flynn started to make his way towards the door, while August scurried beside him.
‘I’m glad I spilt coffee on you now,’ she hissed.
At the bottom step they looked at each for one moment longer, August with her chin tilted in subtle defiance, Flynn with a glint in his eye.
‘I guess this is it,’ Flynn said. ‘Time to find out which one of us is going to be moving in.’
‘Time for you to go on back to that hotel and keep looking, because I am witty and charming and having that house.’
‘Is that so?’
‘That is so.’
‘I can be pretty charming myself, you know,’ he said.
But August appeared ready for battle; like she’d been ready for this since she was six years old. ‘Let the games begin.’
Chapter 9
August
They stood at the door of the house together. August had had it all planned out, from the smile she was going to dazzle the owner with, to a perfect handful of compliments to scatter between the front door and the door of the flat. No matter what the inside was like, and no matter who was showing them around, they were a perfectly curated collection of not-too-needy, gracious accolades.
This was it. The door that was going to open up all her dreams. The life she’d imagined for herself, the person she wanted to be, who she’d always thought she would be, the goals and visions that had been reignited inside her were one door away.
August stepped up and rang the bell. Hello, future.
She leaned forward slightly; mouth already open to impart her wonderful opener. The door swung open and she hesitated for a millisecond at the sight of an attractive man in his late thirties, all tensed jawline and brooding eyes, a light tan to his skin that gave a hint that there was more to him than the businessman façade that the world was seeing in this moment. That hesitation proved fatal, as Flynn swept in and bellowed, ‘Hello! I’m Flynn, I’m ready to move in and let you get back to your Sunday,’ diverting the man’s attention upwards.
She was going to kill Flynn. And then move into her new flat.
August wracked her brains for something to say, because her sparkling opener, which wasn’t far off what Flynn had exclaimed, now seemed like it would fall flat. She tried to pull inspiration from the improv classes she’d taken when she’d first moved to London, but the best she could come up with was declaring ‘August!’ rather loudly, followed by, ‘That’s me. I’m August.’
The man just nodded, seeming distracted and flustered, and said, ‘Jolly good, nice to meet you. I’m Abe. I’m not the landlord though, that’s my mum, Mrs Haverley, so you might as well save your gushing for her.’
Yeah, Flynn, save your gushing, August thought, raising her eyebrows in smugness at Flynn as they followed Abe in through the door.
It was just as August had remembered it, that time she’d come over here as a child. The staircase with the sweeping bannister, and how the sun streamed against it causing those pillars of light to dance their way up the wall. The chandelier glittered overhead, as ornate yet understated as it ever was. August gazed up into it, remembering how her younger self had felt as if it was an ice castle she could climb up and get lost in.
Halfway up the stairs the doorbell rang again, echoey and mellow from inside the walls of the house. Abe sighed and turned around. ‘The apartment that’s available is just at the top of this staircase, on the first floor. You can’t miss it.’ Abe disappeared down the staircase, muttering away to himself, and August and Flynn approached the door of the flat.
Of my flat, August thought.
A woman of about August’s age, early thirties, stomped out from within the apartment, pushing past them on the landing. ‘Waste of time,’ she was mumbling, clearly irritated. She stopped short after she passed the two of them, looked right at them in a way that August couldn’t tell if she was being scrutinised, or if the woman was lost in thought about what to say, and then she stated, ‘But I’m sure you two would be just right for this place.’ The woman flounced off down the stairs, her red hair flying behind her.
August was lost for words for a moment – something that very rarely happened.
‘What was that about?’ Flynn asked no one in particular.
‘What did she mean by “you two”?’
They shrugged at each other. Whatever, there were more important things at play.
The door was partially open, and when Flynn pushed it, they were greeted with a sight August hadn’t fully anticipated. August and Flynn weren’t just competing against each other for this place, oh no, the flat was teeming with pot
ential residents. Way more than August had expected there would be. The crowd shuffled through the living room, pottered in and out of the bedrooms, opened the kitchen cupboards, gazed out the windows, touched the lampshades, caressed the sofa cushions, leant against doorframes and sniffed at the potpourri like it was a tray of freshly baked cookies. They did all the things August wanted to do.
‘That must be the landlady,’ Flynn said, tilting his head towards the one woman in the room who didn’t seem to be in raptures about her surroundings. Instead, she stared out of the window glumly.
August was going to approach her, but saw her sigh as a man in his fifties loomed, talking at her before he’d even come to a stop, waving his arms and saying loudly how he’d ‘love to discuss numbers’.
Instead she turned to Flynn. ‘Well, I’m going to start looking around, so I guess this is … goodbye?’
‘I guess so.’
‘You sure you don’t want to just give up and go home now?’
‘I can’t, remember … I have no home.’ He replied, but with a smile.
Dammit. ‘You’ll find one,’ she sang and turned away.
‘Thanks for keeping me company this morning,’ Flynn added to her as they began to go their separate ways.
‘You too,’ she smiled, and felt a pang of sadness at the broken connection. But she pushed it aside. He was her competition. So she added loudly, ‘Excuse me sir, you seem to have a large stain on your shirt,’ before throwing him a wicked grin and scuttling into the nearest room.
Inside, August took a deep breath, remembering where she was. She was inside her dream home. It was just as lovely as she had hoped. The living room, the main hub when you walked in the front door, was large and bright thanks to the long Georgian windows with the view that flowed down the hill. The ceilings were high. Two bedrooms, beside each other, led off from the living room, though one was used as a snug in the current set-up, with a sofa bed billowing with cushions beside a bookshelf, and French doors acting as windows that led to a small balcony overlooking a private park behind the house. The other bedroom was larger, definitely the master, and it had the same lookout as the living room, which would be quite the thing to wake up to every day.
