"Hello?" Pt. 2

Mayfair

Here's this week's chapter! Major congrats to Andy Murray for winning Wimbledon!! And good luck to France tonight in the Euro final! As a matter of principle (they knocked my beloved Wales out of the Euros!) I will not be supporting Portugal. 

So, Allez, Les Bleus!

Sarah, xx

p.s. This chapter hasn't been proofread. I would do it (I'm starting to get in the habit of skim-reading thorugh updates before publishing) but it's half past seven, the football starts in 30 minutes and I need to a) walk the dog, and b) make food! Sorry for the idiotic mistakes!

~*~*~ 

"And over here," the estate agent, Rebecca, said, walking to the patio doors at the rear of the kitchen. "This is the garden."

I watched as Daniel followed the woman, a pensive look on his face. So far, he and I have seen three different houses around the city and none of them have been up to Daniel's standards. The first house didn't have enough bedroom, despite the fact there were three. The next place didn't have a walk-in closet, therefore, it wasn't the home for us. The last house we visited lacked a room that could be turned into a man cave and so, we left without seeing the rest of the place. 

It was only a matter of time before Daniel found an issue with this current house. To me, so far, it was pretty perfect. It had five bedrooms across three floors and in the basement it had a gym and a home cinema, as well as a games room that Daniel could convert for his own personal use. On the floorplan, I saw that the master suite took up an entire floor in the house and included two closets, one for him and one for her. There was even a roof terrace. 

"No," Daniel announced after a second of looking at the garden. "No, this won't do. Let's go."

The estate agent's eyes widened, although I would have thought she was used to Daniel's abrupt comments and demands to leave once he found a fault with the property. I gave her a polite apologetic smile and followed Daniel through the hallway, out the door and down the front stoop to where our driver was waiting for us. 

"What's the problem this time?" I ask, motioning towards the Kensington property. "Daniel, this house is gorgeous."

"The garden isn't big enough," he says, opening the car door and sliding inside. 

"Daniel, this is London," I remind him. "If you're looking for a place with a big enough garden, you're going to have to buy Buckingham Palace!"

Hearing the door of the house closing behind me, I walk back to meet Rebecca and explain Daniel's assessment of the house. Nodding in response, Rebecca took out an expensive pen and scribbled another note on the CRITERIA list. Originally, the criteria list has been short; it had to be a house, preferably in central London, with great schools in the area and have at least three bedrooms. Now, thanks to Daniel, even more had been added. 

"So, along with walk-in closet, entertainment area, and at least five bedrooms," Rebecca said, rtunning off the list of demands. "We're not adding a large garden to the list?" 

"Apparently so," I confirm. Rubbing my temples, I sigh. "I'm really sorry, Rebecca, I thought this would be straight forward but apparently not. I'll have a word with him about the properties we've already seen. Personally, I liked this one, even if the garden is on the smaller side. Like I told Daniel, it's London, so finding a place with a big garden in the city is next to impossible."

"Well-" The estate agent said, before shaking her head and smiling. "Never mind. It's a stupid idea."

"No, no," I prompt her. Obviously, she's thought of a place that might fit our demands- or rather, Daniel's demands. "Spill. You've thought of somewhere else, haven't you?"