The Tutor

Chapter 18

It took a while to walk uphill to the last place Nora wanted to show Rafe. 

He huffed. "I thought we left hiking for the summer. My back is killing me from the last match," he grumbled the rest under his breath, cursing the opposing team for playing so dirty. He knew that Nora, with her determined nutcracker-style marching, wasn't listening to him.

Past the shops and the market, and the narrow cobblestone streets and old buildings, they entered a small park, its gate wide open. The park looked abandoned.

"It's so quiet here. It's unnerving. Like a setting for a horror movie..." he said. "London is teeming with life."

"It's peaceful here," Nora answered.

"Why don't you tell me about your life in London?" Rafe asked. "You mentioned you lived there. Don't you miss it?"

"Yeah, but I prefer not to talk about it. I prefer it here, let's just leave it at that," she said with a small smile.

"It's very different here," Rafe muttered, swallowing the disappointment of her once again shutting him down. Perhaps her parent's divorce bothered her more than she let on. She always hoarded her emotions which made her hard to figure out. Or, maybe she just didn't trust him as much as he'd thought.

Nora shrugged. "I like it this way. I yearned for peace and quiet."

"Are you still in touch with your dad?"

"Yeah, from time to time..."

"And your mum?"

"We speak on the phone all the time. I'm quite happy to be with my grandmother. She's all the family I need right now. It was... turbulent around my parents."

Rafe stayed quiet, giving her time to say more. Nora shrugged but he could tell the topic made her uneasy. It was still too personal. 

The heart of the park had a moss-covered fountain and a few benches around it.

"Please tell me this isn't it," Rafe said. After that wonderful feast, all he could do with was a nice glass of wine or a great nap. Not be out in a dank, cold park.

"Come on," Nora said with a sigh as she tugged on his sleeve. She led him up a hill. The pathway had faded, and dirt stuck to their shoes, which made Rafe scowl deeper.

Through the trees, Rafe spotted a small, barely visible gap. Gently pushing away the branches, Nora led him into a small clearing. They came to a stop, both out of breath from the steep climb.

It was a hideout sheltered by endlessly tall trees. There was a bench carved out of marble and a lush, panoramic view of the whole town. The rooftops of the houses, neat in rows, and endless green fields made it a peaceful, pastoral scene. You could barely make out the shapes of the farm animals that nibbled on the grass. A few houses and pubs had smoke coming out the chimneys, and the market looked like a small city of lights and music. Rafe let out a low whistle.

"Are we trespassing in a rich man's garden?"

Nora smirked. "Well, a dead, rich man's garden. This place used to be the estate of Lord Pemberly and this was part of his secret garden. But the main estate is much further up, and this place is open to the public, but not many people visit. A journalist reviewed this little gem in the local paper a couple of months ago. I have a feeling it will soon be flooded with tourists."

Rafe took a seat on the marble bench once Nora gave it a good, hearty wipe.

"This is my secret hideout. I come here to think," she said.

"You're always in your thoughts. What the hell do you think about all the time?" Rafe asked, sliding over to make space for her.

"Just stuff. The past, the future, existentialism, postmodernism."