Duality [H.S.]

Chapter Thirty

Wednesday, 25th May 2022 (continued)

As she flits through her diary, double-checking everything for the next few days, Eloise makes a mental note to remember to message Stevie tomorrow for her birthday. She'd no doubt appreciate a little babbled video message from her partial namesake.

Eloise chuckles, envisioning the coercion it might take to get little Miss Frillypants to oblige... She's convinced they both look increasingly more like Harry, but it's getting harder to deny that steely little stubborn streak isn't Cadogan to the core. Heaven help them, once the 'terrible two's' really kick in with a vengeance.

Head bowed, focused on her phone; she just catches sight of something in her peripheral vision.

Whipping her head up, she apologises as she yanks out an AirPod. Having had them in since returning her dad's call, they've kept her hyper-focused - in her own little world of opportunistic admin.

"Shall I buzz, or do you want to tell me the code?" the driver asks again.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll just jump out here. Backing up is easier than turning on the drive, squeezing around the cars. Thank you." Babbling, she's trying in vain to locate the black Birkenstock she kicked off earlier. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she leans down to pat underneath the passenger seat. The low light in the back of the all-black interior of the sleek Mercedes saloon isn't helping much. "Sorry, I... Umm-" She's flustered.

"Here you are, Madam."

Sitting up, flicking her hair out of her face, she feels her cheeks flush as the driver kindly hands her the rogue shoe. "Ah, sorry! Thanks again." She fans a breath upward, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. "Have a good evening."

Chuckling ruefully at her lack of cool, she awkwardly shoots him another smile whilst waiting for the heavy iron gates to open.

Slipping through, she mentally adds their bugging squeak to the bottom of her lengthy to-do list.

Skirting the bonnet of Nina's car, parked up in front of the house, she arches her neck and back after sitting all day.

Once again, cursing the slouchy corners of her oversized Loewe tote, she eventually fishes out her keys and lets herself in.

After such a busy, buzzy, frantic, full-on day, the low light and unexpected quiet of the house feel a little disconcerting.

Anne headed back up north with Louise this morning. Ben, Mer, and the girls should have left here around 4pm to head to Soho Farmhouse in Oxfordshire for her dad's 70th birthday celebrations. They'll all be back in a couple of days, so Eloise should appreciate the peace and quiet while it lasts.

Cocking her head, she listens out for Nina and the twins - hopefully upstairs in the nursery, already well into their bedtime routine.

Having left Claridge's a little later than intended; it's almost 6.45pm now. She had hoped to get more than just fifteen minutes or so with Dylan and Freya before they'll be falling asleep. Swallowing thickly, she realises how parched she is after all those coffees, trying to stay focused.

Crossing the foyer, she pads into the kitchen to grab some water.

Gulping it down, she sighs in satisfaction. As she spins to leave the glass by the sink, out of the corner of her eye, she notices something silver across the kitchen.

A small wheelie suitcase and black tote bag sit neatly near the back staircase.

"Oh, Mer, you dipshit!" Eloise chuckles ruefully. Heading towards them, she slips her phone from the back pocket of her denim shorts to call her.