The six-month housemate

Two

TWO

As soon as I pressed on the doorbell, I heard the distinctive sound of high-heels on floor tiling coming closer and closer until finally the door jerked open and I was suddenly embraced in a bear hug. From the strong smell of Chanel n°5 and the long black hair blocking my view, I guessed it was Mrs Dalton, Alex’s mum. She didn’t say anything, so neither did I, and when she finally let go of me, she looked at me with a look full of reproach:

“Don’t ever make me worry like that ma chérie! Your mother told me your train arrived at 3pm, you should’ve arrived at least 15 minutes ago!”

I looked at my watch; it was 3:40 pm, and it is true when I’d looked up how much time I needed to go from St Pancras to the Daltons’ house on Google maps, the indicated time was 17 minutes, and I managed to turn that into forty. Oops.

“Er… Sorry… I had trouble with my luggage and I brought myself an Oyster card to make it easier for me next time I will take the Tube.” I half lied.

The part with the luggage was true; taking the Tube with a huge suitcase with enough stuff in it to be able to live through Autumn and part of Winter without shopping isn’t easy. The Oyster card, on the other hand, I had already brought the previous year when I’d visited my uncle and aunt, to have more autonomy. The main reason I was late was that I did not want to go to my final destination, so I took as much time I could to avoid arriving too early.

Mrs Dalton was still looking at me, not looking very convinced. Even wearing high-heels, she was barely taller than me, and I can’t say I’m very tall, being 5 feet 4, and she was very slim, especially knowing she’d had four children. She also had a lot of strength, given the fact she’d managed to squeeze all the air I had in my lungs out of me when she hugged me. She had a perfectly white skin and stunning green eyes. With her long dark hair falling perfectly on her shoulders, I could only think of one word to describe her; beautiful.

“Don’t worry, I understand. But next time, just text me, okay? ” She said with a smile. “Now let’s get you installed. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please Mrs D--”

“No Mrs Dalton here. You are going to be living with us for at least six months; if you call me and my husband by our last name, it is going to be very boring and long, and anyway I feel like my mother-in-law when people call me that. You’ll call me Vanessa, and my husband Patrick.”

“Okay. So… Yes, please Vanessa.” I was kind of unsettled at the “at least six months”, but I didn’t let it show.

“Good. Wait for me here for a second, I’ll go put some water on to boil, and then I’ll show you your room.” She paused a second. “In fact, no. Start going upstairs, your bedroom is on the third floor. Leave your two small bags down here and only take your suitcase, I’ll take them up with me.”

“Okay”

“Don’t fall down the stairs!” Vanessa said, disappering in the kitchen.

---

While I was walking up the stairs, I couldn’t help but notice all the pictures of the Dalton boys hanging on the walls. They were four: Alex was second, after Oliver, who was 20 years old, and after him came Hugo, 14 years old, and Tom, 10 years old.

On the most recent pictures of them, the two younger ones were exact replicas of their brothers at the same age, from what I saw, but with different hairstyles and hair colour. Tom had light blond hair, so blond in some parts that it was almost white, and he had inherited of his mother’s bright green eyes. He already had a killer smile, and I didn’t doubt he would be quite a player when growing up, if he followed his brothers’ steps.