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A R T H U R
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"Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Winters." I find myself repeating as I tug at my collar. If it wasn't for the food, you'd have thought it was an interrogation.
"You're welcome." She replies coldly, picking up Mr. Winters's and Bart's plates.
Callie gives me a sheepishly look and picks up her own plate, and the lasagna dish, and carries it though to the kitchen after her mother. I hate how much she's trying to keep Mrs. Winters happy.
"Will they need a hand?" I ask, unsure of my position in the household. I hate watching Callie run around me.
"Nah, don't worry about it. Let's have a chat." Mr. Winters says. "Bartholomew, you're excused."
"Nice." He answers shortly, picking up his phone and walking out the room. He heads upstairs, I'm assuming to his bedroom.
"Do you drink whiskey? I've got a delicious bottle of 25 year old Scotch." He says, turning to a globe in the corner of the room. He pulls it back and picks up a bottle. "Malt, of course."
"Of course." I nod with a smile.
He grabs a whisky tumbler for the each of us and pours some out. He hands it over. "Get your chops around that, boy." He demands.
Christ, he's posh. I give him a small smile, trying to not laugh, and take a sip from the glass.
"What do you think?"
"It's delicious." I nod, looking up at him.
He smiles down at me. "Off your arse, let me show you my cars."
"Happily." I chuckle, grabbing my whiskey in one hand. I step out into the hallway and slip into my trainers. I follow him outside and towards a garage on the offside to the house.
The doors open and flicks on a light. I'm faced with two cars under sheets. "I feel like a young lad again." I laugh as I glance around the room and see it's a very tidy garage, with little-to-no clutter around.
"Which one first? Left or right?"
"Right." I nod, eager to see what lays under such a long bonnet.
He pulls the sheet back and I am greeted with a Morgan Plus 4.
"Oh my God!" I say excitedly. "What year?"
"1963." Mr. Winters replies.
I whistle and run a hand over the curve of the bonnet. "How does she run?"
"Like an angel." He smiles, finishing his whisky. "I'm trying to get my hands on a Morgan Plus 4 Plus."
I release a breath. "Morgan Motor Company made less than thirty of those, right?"
"Right." He confirms with a single nod. "Twenty-six to be precise. I've managed to find someone in London who's got one. He's selling it for about £145,000. I'm trying to knock it down to £120,000."
YOU ARE READING
The Neighbour ✔️
RomanceCallie has made a huge change in her life. She's given up everything she was used to for a brand new life. Traded in her job, her useless boyfriend and home in Northumberland, for an exciting new start in her old University city of York. Upon arriv...
