Read Online Christmas on Primrose Hill by Karen Swan - Free Book Online
Authors: Karen Swan
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typing something on his keyboard, before disappearing into a room at the back.
Behind her, Nettie heard the familiar low rumble of the bus. Typical!
‘Lee! The bus is coming!’ she called through.
‘Coming!’ he called back. ‘It’s just printing now.’
She turned again to find the bus pulling to a stop, the doors hissing open.
‘Lee . . .’ She saw the other passengers getting on and she began walking backwards towards the bus. She couldn’t afford to miss it.
‘Coming, coming,’ he panted, running awkwardly through the office with a sheet of paper in his hands. ‘Probate sale. Just through in the past hour. Perfect for you.’
‘But—’
He thrust the particulars into her hand just as she stepped, sideways, onto the bus. ‘I’m listing it on the market on Monday. I’m on viewings for the rest of today, but I can see you there tomorrow, about four-ish, and you can have an exclusive preview, OK? First refusal.’
‘But—’
‘I promise you, Nettie. This is the one.’ He smiled at her, his cheeks thread-veined, his bushy moustache making up for the lack of hair on his head.
‘Are you getting on or what?’ the bus driver asked, prompting her to turn.
‘Uh, yes, yes,’ she said, pulling out her Oyster card and showing it to him.
‘Not valid till it’s scanned,’ the driver said with impressive boredom, as though she’d never been on a bus before.
She turned back to Lee as she held the card to the reader. ‘Fine. I’ll see you there tomorrow, then,’ she said as it beeped.
‘Four-ish,’ Lee called as the doors immediately closed and the brakes were released. ‘Don’t worry if I’m late!’
She gave him a thumbs-up sign as the bus pulled away and she swayed her way down towards the seats at the back. The bus was less than half filled and she sank into a seat by the window and stared out, her eyes up to the sky again; a gauzy tendril of violet was beginning to inch across now, backlighting the clouds. She calculated that with fifteen minutes to get there – depending upon the traffic, of course – she’d have an hour and twenty minutes, maybe slightly more, before the light went completely.
She bit her lip as the bus stopped at the lights on Prince Albert Road and pedestrians began to cross, deliberately slowly, it seemed. Two feet below her, she watched as cyclists passed by the bus and stopped right in front of it.
The lights stayed red. She sighed and looked impatiently down the aisle, out through the windscreen at the cyclists getting in the way. They were all just standing about lackadaisically, their bikes held up at odd angles, some with the pedals stopped in the wrong position and therefore holding the bus up further.
She could feel her pulse quicken and she looked away again, taking slow, deep breaths and digging her nails into her palms once more.
She would be there soon enough.
That was the problem.
Chapter Five
Lee looked back at her with hopeful eyes.
Nettie gave a wan smile, her eyes falling to a dead, upside-down cockroach in the corner by the radiator. Yes, this was what £350,000 bought in the area now. The influx of TV and music stars, models and Hollywood actors had driven prices through the roof so that it now sat on a par, price-wise, with Notting Hill and Chelsea, but being sought out by those multi-millionaires who liked a cooler, edgier vibe to their des res. Her parents’ house – four floors including the basement, six bedrooms, decent back garden – had been bought for pennies back in the 1970s but was worth a cool £4 million now, even in its ‘unmodernized’ condition. Not that they would sell up now. Ever.
No, £350,000 scarcely bought a parking space in this neck of the London woods, but that was all she’d got – well, the deposit for that grand sum, anyway. She’d been saving up for nearly five years now, and provided the bank would green-light the mortgage their financial adviser had said she could afford, she was good to
Behind her, Nettie heard the familiar low rumble of the bus. Typical!
‘Lee! The bus is coming!’ she called through.
‘Coming!’ he called back. ‘It’s just printing now.’
She turned again to find the bus pulling to a stop, the doors hissing open.
‘Lee . . .’ She saw the other passengers getting on and she began walking backwards towards the bus. She couldn’t afford to miss it.
‘Coming, coming,’ he panted, running awkwardly through the office with a sheet of paper in his hands. ‘Probate sale. Just through in the past hour. Perfect for you.’
‘But—’
He thrust the particulars into her hand just as she stepped, sideways, onto the bus. ‘I’m listing it on the market on Monday. I’m on viewings for the rest of today, but I can see you there tomorrow, about four-ish, and you can have an exclusive preview, OK? First refusal.’
‘But—’
‘I promise you, Nettie. This is the one.’ He smiled at her, his cheeks thread-veined, his bushy moustache making up for the lack of hair on his head.
‘Are you getting on or what?’ the bus driver asked, prompting her to turn.
‘Uh, yes, yes,’ she said, pulling out her Oyster card and showing it to him.
‘Not valid till it’s scanned,’ the driver said with impressive boredom, as though she’d never been on a bus before.
She turned back to Lee as she held the card to the reader. ‘Fine. I’ll see you there tomorrow, then,’ she said as it beeped.
‘Four-ish,’ Lee called as the doors immediately closed and the brakes were released. ‘Don’t worry if I’m late!’
She gave him a thumbs-up sign as the bus pulled away and she swayed her way down towards the seats at the back. The bus was less than half filled and she sank into a seat by the window and stared out, her eyes up to the sky again; a gauzy tendril of violet was beginning to inch across now, backlighting the clouds. She calculated that with fifteen minutes to get there – depending upon the traffic, of course – she’d have an hour and twenty minutes, maybe slightly more, before the light went completely.
She bit her lip as the bus stopped at the lights on Prince Albert Road and pedestrians began to cross, deliberately slowly, it seemed. Two feet below her, she watched as cyclists passed by the bus and stopped right in front of it.
The lights stayed red. She sighed and looked impatiently down the aisle, out through the windscreen at the cyclists getting in the way. They were all just standing about lackadaisically, their bikes held up at odd angles, some with the pedals stopped in the wrong position and therefore holding the bus up further.
She could feel her pulse quicken and she looked away again, taking slow, deep breaths and digging her nails into her palms once more.
She would be there soon enough.
That was the problem.
Chapter Five
Lee looked back at her with hopeful eyes.
Nettie gave a wan smile, her eyes falling to a dead, upside-down cockroach in the corner by the radiator. Yes, this was what £350,000 bought in the area now. The influx of TV and music stars, models and Hollywood actors had driven prices through the roof so that it now sat on a par, price-wise, with Notting Hill and Chelsea, but being sought out by those multi-millionaires who liked a cooler, edgier vibe to their des res. Her parents’ house – four floors including the basement, six bedrooms, decent back garden – had been bought for pennies back in the 1970s but was worth a cool £4 million now, even in its ‘unmodernized’ condition. Not that they would sell up now. Ever.
No, £350,000 scarcely bought a parking space in this neck of the London woods, but that was all she’d got – well, the deposit for that grand sum, anyway. She’d been saving up for nearly five years now, and provided the bank would green-light the mortgage their financial adviser had said she could afford, she was good to
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