‘Nearly ten years,’ Rosie said. Then, before she could stop herself, she added: ‘And, after all that time, he was going to dump me by leaving me anoteinstead of telling me face to face. I just came home early and happened to catch him before he could do a bunk.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘Nope. I imagine I’ll be able to see the funny side at some point … I think impending homelessness, to which I’ve now added joblessness, is putting a dampener on my sense of humour.’
‘You’re on the hunt for a flatmate, then?’ Aled asked.
‘I am. I can’t bear the thought of leaving this place, on top of everything else – I’ve made itmine, you know? Even though it’s obviously not.’
‘I get it,’ Aled said. ‘It feels like a proper home, especially compared with upstairs. I don’t think my grandfather was much bothered about decorating or mod cons … I’m actually going to be moving out myself as soon as I find somewhere else to crash. I was planning to speak to you about it – I’ve already apologised in advance to the ladies on the first floor for the disruption it’ll cause. They’ve decided to move out for a while and live on their houseboat.’
Rosie started in surprise, then nodded.
‘It was their own idea – and it goes without saying that I won’t be charging them rent while they’re gone,’ Aled added hastily, keen not to come across as some Dickensian miser.
She smiled at him. ‘You have major plans, then?’
‘It needs a new bathroom, a new kitchen … a total renovation, basically,’ Aled said. ‘It’ll be far easier to sort out if I’m not living there while it’s all done. The builders are waiting for me to vacate.’
Rosie nodded again. Having been up there frequently, she felt pretty confident that Mr Bettini’s flat had last been worked on sometime before she was born.
She wondered where Aled worked –ifhe worked – as well as what he did. She wondered whether he’d look for somewhere local to rent, or move to a different part of London entirely.
The questions jockeyed for position on the tip of her tongue, but all were swallowed away as an outlandish – but potentially logical – idea occurred to her. She looked up at him and understood immediately that he’d had the same thought.
‘What if …’ he said, speaking slowly – as if the words were leaving his lips at the precise moment he was thinking them. ‘What ifItook your spare room? Just for a few months, while things are sorted out upstairs. As you’ve probably guessed, I’m pretty quiet – a good quality in a housemate, I believe. And I don’t have a lot of stuff to store, so it’s no issue if the room is small …’
Rosie found herself nodding. In less than an hour, she’d gone from not knowing this man’s name to contemplating living with him.
She forced herself to stop moving her head up and down. This idea was crazy. Absurd.Completelyridiculous. Yet it made a strange, irrefutable sort of sense; so much so that she and Aled had both come up with it.
‘I …’ Rosie faltered. ‘Well. I was originally looking for a female flatmate. But I’ve got to admit, I haven’t had much luck with that so far.’ Impressed with her own restraint, she resisted the urge to tell him she’d now received several dick pics as a result of advertising the room.
‘I completely understand,’ Aled said, looking abashed. ‘It was just a notion.’
He sounded almost relieved that she hadn’t jumped at his offer – and in a contrary kind of way, this made it more appealing.
‘No,’ Rosie said. ‘I’m going to think about it. It’s a surprisingly decent idea. Can I let you know in a day or two?’
‘Sure,’ Aled said, standing up. ‘That’s fine. And no worries if someone more suitable comes along in the meantime. I’d better get going, anyway. Thanks for the tea.’
‘Thanks for letting me back into my flat,’ Rosie said, following him down the corridor so she could see him out. ‘I appreciate it.’
He regarded her as he stood in the open doorway, his large frame almost filling it. ‘You’re welcome. And it was a pleasure to meet you properly, Rosie Butler.’
‘You too,’ Rosie said, smiling. ‘I’ll see you around, Aled Thomas.’
Chapter 10
‘So let me get this straight,’ Niamh said on Thursday evening, swirling her red wine around her glass before taking a sip. She and Rosie were back at their favourite Italian, awaiting two portions of mushroom risotto.
‘Your plan – if this madness can be called a plan – is to let a man you’ve had preciselyoneconversation with move into your spare room. A man who, while insanely attractive, you know almost nothing about, and who you have referred to alternately as “Nameless Neighbour” or “the sociopath upstairs” for the past three months.’
Rosie felt her nose scrunch up in an involuntary expression of distaste. ‘Jamesreferred to him as “the sociopath upstairs”, not me,’ she corrected.
Niamh held her gaze for a few seconds, then said: ‘That’s how you justify this idea?That’sthe sum total of your defence? This could just as easily be the start of a horror story as it could a romcom, you know. “Mysterious-yet-hot stranger appears” foreshadows murder as often as it precedes amazing sex. Occasionally it prefaces both.’
‘I didn’t realise I needed adefence,’ Rosie mumbled, screwing a paper napkin into a tight ball and trying not to look at her best friend. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t exactly have a plethora of options here. In two weeks’ time James is going to stop paying his share of the rent. From then on, it’s down to me to cover the lot – and there’s no way I can afford it on my own.’