Page 32 of Oz (Finding Home #1)

I moan and tangle my hands in his thick, soft hair. I hate not telling him the full truth about today, but I don’t want to get his hopes up. That’s my last thought apart from harder and oh my fucking god before I fall back into the sheets in a tangled, sweaty mess.

A couple of hours later I hear the sound of a car on the gravel at the front of the house and race to open the door. I fling it open and dart down the steps in time to see Shaun getting out and stretching as if it was a clown car rather than a very swanky BMW.

I whistle. “Nice car.”

“Obviously not mine,” he says wryly, laughing as I fling myself at him and hug him tight.

“It’s so good to see you,” I whisper, and he chuckles.

“I’ve missed you too, Ozzy.”

He grabs me in a tight hug and I inhale the scent of Shaun which is one part weed to two parts Calvin Klein aftershave. It smells like home, or at least what home used to smell like.

I step back and he grins. “Bloody hell, Oz, you look good.”

I look down at myself. “Really?”

He nods. “Those bags have gone under your eyes and you look–” He hesitates. “You look rested.”

“That makes me sound like an OAP.”

He shrugs. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Well, don’t. You’ll catch something.”

He bursts out laughing and I smile at him affectionately. The next second he jerks. “What the hell is that?”

I look behind me and find Chewwy staring rather gloomily at Shaun. “It’s Chewwy.”

“Is it a yeti?”

“Yes, of course he is. Man has searched for the mythical creature for years when they could have just caught the train to Cornwall.”

I hear the sound of a door opening and I turn to see the other occupant of the car easing out of the driving seat. “Fuck, that was a shitty drive,” he says. “We got stuck behind a whole row of fucking caravans. Who the hell would ever want one of those?”

I look at his outfit of perfectly ironed beige shorts and a white shirt and his sleek appearance and grin. “I’m trying to imagine you in one, Jasper, but it’s just not coming.”

“Not usually a problem of yours,” he says, and I shake my head, looking at one of my old hook-ups.

I met Jasper at uni. He’s from a very well-to-do family and I’d been fascinated by him for a long time.

He’s funny, good looking, and effortlessly confident.

We shared a house for a year and I willingly shared my arse, but we never moved beyond casual hook-up status despite my hidden wish.

I’d taken him home once and the almost horrified fascination on his face had woken me up quicker than a bucket of water in the face.

I’d ended things when we got back to uni, and after a slightly rocky reaction to that we’d moved into friendship.

He comes around the car and I look at him for a long second.

I can’t help comparing him to Silas. Jasper is sleek and rich, like a Siamese cat who will always find the sunny side of any street.

Silas is more battle weary. He wears his years on his face but it’s a face that fascinates me.

I become aware that I’m staring and jump when he pulls me into a hug.

He pushes his nose into my neck and inhales deeply. “You still smell the same,” he murmurs. “Mmm, I like it.”

I wriggle back instantly. “Oi, watch the hands, Mr Grabby.”

He laughs but jumps back when Chewwy gives a low growl. “What the fuck ?”

Shaun laughs. “Oz’s yeti doesn’t like you, Jasper. Better watch your step. He looks like he might rip your throat out,” he adds with gloomy relish.

“Of course he wouldn’t,” I scold. “He’s very gentle.” I look at Chewwy, who’s watching Jasper intently. “He’d be more likely to gloom you to death,” I coo, bending down to pet him. “Wouldn’t you, my furry baby?”

I look up and find Shaun and Jasper studying me as if I’m an exhibit in a museum. I flush. “Are you here to examine me or the house?” I ask, and as if synchronised they turn to look at the building.

“Oh my God, Oz,” Shaun breathes. “It’s so beautiful.”

The house is looking its best today, the mellow honey gold of the stones standing out against a periwinkle-blue sky. I feel a sense of pride and instantly want to fucking kick myself. This isn’t my house. I don’t have a house, and what home I have is in London with Shaun and my mum.

I shake my head. “What do you think?” I say to Jasper.

He’s less moved, probably because his family are very wealthy, but he’s still staring contemplatively at the house and chewing on the end of his sunglasses. “It looks good,” he finally says, and I nudge him.

“Okay, Captain Cryptic. Do you want to look around outside?”

He nods, and as we walk Shaun flings his arm around my shoulder. “What’s it like living here?” he whispers as Jasper paces ahead of us, stopping now and then to take a shot with the expensive camera on his shoulder.

I shrug. “It’s a house, Shaun. Just bigger than most. It took me a while to get used to it, but it’s not home or anything.”

“I never said anything about it being home,” he says in a bewildered voice, and we both look up as Jasper stops.

“How far do his lands stretch?”

“Erm, I’m not sure, but as far as the eye can see.”

“Does it include the headland over there?”

I nod. “Oh yes. That’s all Silas’s.”

“Silas?” Jasper enquires.

“The Earl of Ashworth.”

He shoots me a strange look. “You call him Silas? Hmm.”

“Well, I do work for him and he’s really relaxed around the staff.”

I smile at the thought of him up that ladder dusting cobwebs, then flush when I realise Shaun is staring at me. He opens his mouth to say something, but Jasper interrupts him.

“Can we look inside?”

I gesture him inside and we blink as our eyes adjust to the Great Hall. Jasper looks around at the huge mullioned windows, the carved wooden panels, and the massive stone fireplace. “Shit,” he says and then whistles.

I laugh. “I know. I said the same thing.”

“Are they the original curtains? What a bag of shit. They look like they’re about to disintegrate.”

I shoot him a killing glare. “That’s not the only thing that will disintegrate if you don’t keep your shitty remarks to yourself.”

He turns to me, his mouth slightly open. “Really?”

I nod. “I won’t have it. This is a lovely house, Jasper, and the people here are lovely too. Don’t be crappy. Money might be short but fucking decency isn’t.”

He stares at me for a long second and then nods slowly as if he’s realised something. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Show me the rest.”

I nod sternly and, aware of Shaun looking at me open-mouthed, I show him over the house, letting him poke into cupboards and open doors. When he’s finally finished looking and taken what must be the one billionth photograph, I lead them down to the kitchen and put the kettle to boil on the Aga.

Bustling around the kitchen, I make coffee and huge doorstep sandwiches using the fresh bread that Maggie baked this morning and ham from the village butcher. They fall on the food with gusto and for a while we eat and chat about friends and family.

Finally, when they’ve finished, I push my chair back and look at Jasper. “Going to tell me what you’re looking for?”

He grins. “Do you remember The Pendarke Saga ?”

I nod. “The steampunk series you were addicted to at uni?” He nods and I sit up straight. “Get out. Really ? They’re filming that?”

He nods again. “I’ve been sent here to scope out properties to film in. Cornwall will be fantastic for the world of the series, and the producers want a really special house for the family.” He smiles. “Your call came at just the right moment.”

I can feel my heart beating fast. I hold my breath. “And?”

He lets the silence last for far longer than anyone should and then grins.

“I think it’s fucking perfect. I looked at the Branton estate up the road.

” I can’t help my grimace, but he doesn’t notice as he’s reaching for his diary and looking at his notes.

“It was just too perfect. I know I was a bit sneery about the slightly tumbledown appearance of this but it’s actually just what the producers want. ”

I punch my fist in the air. “Yes!” Then I straighten up. “How much will they pay?”

Shaun laughs and Jasper grins. “You’re like a fucking pimp with money, Oz. Nothing ever changes.”

“I watch my money. No one else will,” they intone together, and I stick my finger up at them.

“How much?”

He grins and gives me an astronomical figure. I make sure my only reaction is a slow blink. “Is that it? Can you make it more?”

He stares at me. “This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” I nod, and he shakes his head, leaning forward. “Okay. That’s the bottom line they’re prepared to pay, but confidentially I can tell you to add another zero when you bargain.” He looks at the old kitchen. “They’re going to want this.”

I nod. “And will you need us to do anything?” I pause. “You won’t damage the house, will you?”

He shakes his head immediately. “Of course not. We’re extremely careful.

We’ll put our own stuff up anyway, but we take every care to leave everything as we find it.

” He shudders slightly, and I smile. He carries on.

“It’s good for the local area, anyway. The crew will use the local hotels and bed and breakfasts for accommodation and once the series hits the TV, the tourists will come.

Shaun says the earl’s thinking of opening to the public?

” I nod and he shrugs. “Well then, more for the pot.” He pauses.

“I’ll have to talk to him anyway before we go back. ”

There’s a short silence as I bite my lip and Shaun nudges me. “Confess, Ozzy. It’ll make you happier.” I grin. It’s a well-used phrase that he got from my mum.

“I might not have told him yet.”

“ What ?” Jasper explodes, and I hold my hands up.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be absolutely fine with it. I just didn’t want to get his hopes up.”

He nods. “I’m just nipping outside to make a phone call.” He looks around the house. “Fucking Cornish phone reception.”

Silence falls until Shaun stirs. “You didn’t want to get his hopes up?”

I flush. “Shut up.”

Shaun shakes his head. “I’m not sure how the aristocracy works, but I’m pretty certain that their staff don’t keep things from them because they don’t want them to be upset.”

I jump up and gather their plates together and throw the scraps into the bin. “He’s different. You’ll see.”

“Oh, what have you done, Oz?” Shaun intones. That’s a well-used phrase too, by the way.

“I haven’t done anything.” I avoid his eyes by stacking the plates in the dishwasher.

“How old is this earl?”

“Erm, about thirty-seven, I think,” I say, my voice awkward as I bend over the sink.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

I spin round. “What?”

He grins, his face dear and familiar. “I thought he was in his eighties and you’d embarked on a hobby of necrophilia.”

“You’re disgusting,” I breathe, and he laughs harder.

“Whatever. You’re obviously fucking him.” He shakes his head. “You know what, Oz. I reckon you’ve got a boss fetish.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I mutter as he laughs harder, holding his sides.

“You’d be fucking murder on The Apprentice .”

I come back to the table and slump in my chair. “I’m an idiot.”

He shakes his head. “That remains to be seen.”

“How?”

“I need to meet him and ask him what his intentions are.” He puffs up his chest. “I must make sure that my beloved Ozzy is not being used and thrown away by a member of the nobility and left destitute and shamed in the dirt.”

“Christ, you’ve been reading Catherine Cookson too,” comes an amused posh voice from the kitchen door.

We both jump. “Silas,” I breathe.

At that moment Jasper comes into the kitchen. “I’ve cleared it with production. They’ll need to talk to your boss.” Not seeing Silas, he ambles over to the table and bends over me. “Want to celebrate, Oz? As I recall, you give the best celebrations.”

Silas’s face clouds over. “What’s going on?” he asks in a very hostile voice.