This Could Change Everything(13)

‘Darling, don’t be alarmed. I was charmed by what you said.’ Zillah Walsh’s large silver earrings jangled as she reassured her. ‘I’m actually eighty-three.’

In the kitchen, Zillah made a pot of tea then carried it on a tray through to the rather grand sitting room, where bottle-green walls were hung with an eclectic assortment of framed artwork, and heavy scarlet silk curtains clashed wonderfully with a burnt-orange velvet sofa and wing chairs.

‘Help yourself to crisps and biscuits.’ Zillah handed her a plate. ‘No need to be polite. Take as many as you like. What do you think of this room?’

‘It’s perfect. I love the colours.’

‘So do I.’

‘That’s incredible.’ Essie pointed to one of the paintings in an alcove. ‘It’s you!’

‘When I was twenty-one.’ Zillah turned to look at it. ‘Back when my skin was smooth and I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have wrinkles.’

‘OK, I want to say that I bet you turn even more heads now than you did back then. But I don’t want you thinking I’m only saying it to flatter you.’

‘If it’s true,’ Zillah replied with a brief smile, ‘it’s more than likely due to me having outlived most of the opposition. Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about you.’

Over the course of the next forty minutes, Essie realised she was being expertly interviewed. It felt like a friendly chat, but there was clearly far more to it than that. Finally, Zillah said, ‘So, I do have a place I can offer you. It’s very small, I’m afraid, but it’s clean and well maintained. Would you be interested?’

‘Yes! I’d be so interested you wouldn’t believe it. Of course I would,’ said Essie. ‘If I can afford it, that is. I mean, Scarlett’s letting me sleep on her bedroom floor at the moment, which is lovely of her, but I can’t carry on doing that. Where is this place? Is it in Bath?’

‘It’s right here, on the top floor.’ Zillah’s diamond rings glittered in the lamplight as she raised a hand and pointed at the ceiling.

‘Here in this house?’ In Percival Square? Essie’s eyes widened. ‘Are you serious? Oh no.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t afford it then.’ So much for having got her hopes up; apart from meeting a strikingly attractive eighty-three-year-old, the afternoon had been a failure after all. Back to square one.

‘Darling girl, have a bit of faith in me. I did ask them at the office what your budget was. And I had a little idea. As you know, I’m not as young as I was. It would be nice to think I could ask for the occasional favour . . . running errands, popping to the shops, that kind of thing. So if you’d be up for helping me out every now and again, I’d be happy to accept the amount you can afford. How does that sound to you?’

And breathe . . .

‘Really?’

‘Why not? This is my home. I like you and I think we’d get on.’ Zillah’s mouth twitched. ‘You have no idea how many people there are out there whom I wouldn’t want living in my house. I’ve chosen well so far, haven’t landed myself with any duds. And you don’t seem like a dud to me.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’ Essie blinked, because leaping up onto the coffee table and punching the air probably wouldn’t be appropriate. ‘Thanks so much.’

‘No need to thank me. You need somewhere to live, and I could do with the occasional helping hand. Plus, I’d far rather have you upstairs than someone who can afford to pay more but who bores me to tears or eats like a chimpanzee.’

‘So that’s why you served biscuits and crisps.’

‘Too right. Can’t stand a chomper. Or a tea-slurper. You passed those tests with flying colours.’

‘Thank goodness for that.’

Zillah smiled. ‘You haven’t even seen the flat yet.’

‘If it’s just a bathtub inside a cupboard, I’d still want it.’

‘Come along then.’ The older woman rose to her feet. ‘Let me give you the full guided tour.’

The flat, up on the third floor, was indeed tiny. But it was perfectly formed.

‘My husband died nine years ago,’ Zillah explained. ‘I loved living here and didn’t want to move, but the house just felt far too big for me on my own. I was rattling around in it like a bean. A friend suggested I had the two top floors converted into flats, and it’s been great. A bit of extra company for me, nice people to interact with, and some extra income too.’

‘Perfect.’ Essie gazed around the living room, with its clean pale yellow walls and curtains to match. They were up in the attic, half of which had been converted into a self-contained one-bedroom apartment with a compact bathroom and a kitchen area that was part of the main room.

‘I’ve had Maria here for the last three years,’ Zillah continued. ‘She was lovely. But her boyfriend was offered a job in New Zealand and he selfishly went and asked her to marry him. So she moved out six weeks ago and they’re living in Auckland now. Whereas I’ve spent the last six weeks interviewing potential new tenants, but not one of them has felt right.’ She paused. ‘Until you came along. So, do we have a deal?’

‘Yes please.’

‘And how soon would you like to move in?’