Chapter Text
When you’d called the name on the ad, you weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting. It certainly wasn’t the cool, rough voice of the man who answered. For some reason you had it in your head that it was probably an elderly widower asking for a lodger, but apparently not. I mean, what man younger than 70 calls for a ‘lodger’ anyway? They’d just be a landlord, surely.
You’d agreed a time to view the room, and he’d given you a name - Varney.
You call your friend to let her know where you’re going, and she gasped.
“Oh my god, it’s like you’re trying to get murdered.”
“Abby! The guy seems really nice!” You said indignantly. “Besides, why do you think I'm calling you? You’re my insurance against this potential murderer.”
“What am I going to do?! Sweep in and save you?”
You sniggered. “Call the police if I go missing, dipshit. That’s the first rule of kidnapping. Not that I will. I'm just being precautionary.”
Abby sighed.“It’s way too late in the day for you to use such big words. What kind of guy schedules a room viewing for 6 pm anyway?”
You hum. “Maybe he works late?”
“Yeah, maybe,” she paused. “Right, I’ll let you go, text me when you’re back so I know you’ve not been chopped up in some guy's basement!”
“I will, bye babe.”
You hung up and grab your bag. I wouldn’t be chopped up in a basement you think to yourself. It’d probably be a coal shed. Or the downstairs loo. It’s a Victorian detached, and Victorians didn’t tend to bother with basements, did they? You shake your head. He’d probably put you in the pantry.
***
“…And this is the living room,” Varney says, stepping to the side so you can see in.
He’d introduced himself again as Varney, which you assumed was his surname, and you’d shook his hand gladly when you’d arrived. He was dressed nicely, a wool vest over a button-down, in contrast to his slippered feet. You’d toed your shoes off at the door, thankful that you’d worn matching socks, and he’d guided you through the house.
It was beautiful, expansive. The kitchen was… reasonably modern (“I’ve had it remodelled recently,” he’d said, and you thought that he should’ve gone with a different fitter because it looked distinctly nineties to you), and the room made your jaw drop a little - a matching bedroom set in gorgeous cherrywood, heavy velvet curtains over the bay window.
The air, however, was stale and heavy, and you’d winced at the thought of how long it would take the room to air out, and how you’d probably smell like a charity shop if you hung your clothes up in the wardrobe. Varney had apologised and explained that it’d been shut up since he bought the place.
You stepped into the living room and ran your hand over the arm of the sofa - beautiful and Edwardian, with a carved wooden back. All of the furniture seemed kind of… chintzy for a single man’s house, but the tv was new at least.
“So what do you think?” Varney broke the silence, and you turned to him with a smile.
“You have a beautiful home, Mr Varney, I really do like it.”
He waved a hand. “Just Varney’s fine, please.” He leans back against the open door, crossing his arms over his chest. “So would you be interested in taking the room?”
“Oh, I would - do you want me to fill in a form or anything?” He shook his head.
“Don’t worry about that, you’ve already sent over your address and contact details. I’ll have a look over the other applicants and give you a ring in the next couple of days. When did you say you could move in?”
“The first of the month, if that’s alright?”
Varney nodded. “That’d be great.” He pushed himself away from the door and ushered you out of the room. “Right, I’ll ring you, either way, to let you know, it should be in the next couple of days.”
“That’d be lovely, thank you, Varney.” You smile at him again as you walked to the front door, and you step back to let him open it. You see the shadow of a person waiting on the other side through the stained glass surround. Varney swung the door open to reveal a young man standing on the porch.
“Ah! You must be Peter. How do you do?” Varney stuck his hand out for him to shake, and urged him inside. “Just give me a moment to see this young lady off, and I’ll give you a look around.” He turned to you as you shoot peter a small grin. “Right, if you come up with any questions about the room, just give me a ring - any time is good but evenings are better if possible.”
You nod and shake his proffered hand. “I will don’t worry. Thank you again for showing me around, I hope to hear from you soon about it?” You ask. Varney smiled and inclined his head.
“I’ll be sure to let you know. You get home safe.”
You wave as you step off the porch and back onto the pavement, pulling out your phone to text Abby.
You’ll never guess what… the cutest guy owns the house and he didn’t even murder me…