The road was not a long one, in fact, if you were going by geographical terms, it was relatively short. The downside (if one can excuse such an outrageous pun), was the gradient. It was one of those streets that the cosmic designer of hills, when sitting down at their desk one morning with a poor cup of coffee and a foul mood, disgruntled at having been posted to the simple matter of topography, cracked their knuckles and decided to make it hard for humankind.
This was made all the worse when the temperature was at a record high for the usually conciliatory month of September; especially if you happened to be lugging three suitcases, carrying two large gym bags and a rucksack on your shoulders and holding a plastic Tesco bag which had twisted so that circulation had been lost to three fingers on your right hand. Difficulties would also arise if you had not been to the gym in well over a month.
Put all these things together and you will get a chap in the shape (or perhaps out?) of Seb Caddel. The usually suave, handsome lad was a rather worrying shade of freshly cooked lobster and was no longer wearing any clothing not saturated with sweat. If he had the hands to wring his now dark blue t-shirt out, he could have filled a bowl.
Seb could not form sentences in his mind, let alone speak, but a series of images did run through his head as he struggled up that hill. There were his parents sitting at the kitchen table, their expressions desolate. There was his room, clothing sprawled everywhere next to open bags. There was Seb, scratching his head wondering if it was worth packing light. There was Seb throwing clothes into his bag and caution to the wind. There was Seb, telling his parents not to worry, that he could get from Norwich to Exeter on his own, no problem. There was Seb, rather wishing he had been born with a little less bravado.
What he really needed, the pictures in Seb's head said, was an angel. Seb knew this to be an impossibility and it was indeed rather unlikely at this point, but the universe did send him the next best thing.
"Crikey, that's a fair bit of baggage. Give me a couple of those suitcases and one of those bags. It's not much further to the top."
Seb gasped his thanks as helping hands relieved him of much of his burden, including the torturous Tesco bag.
"Come on", a voice called from in front of him. "It really isn't far."
Seb had to believe it. Head down like a plough horse, he followed the pair of ox blood docs as he pushed himself to make it to the top.
As the ground evened out, Seb threw himself and his baggage to the ground in relief.
"Watch it", his guardian angel said as Seb's suitcase decided to go for a jolly back down the hill.
All Seb managed was to make a lacklustre grab for the suitcase as its wheels started rolling.
"I'm going to have to go back down", he thought. "Then up again. I can't".
Fortunately, he was not required to. The pair of DM's rushed past Seb where he was sat upon the ground and a exulted voice cried out, "Got ya!."
"Thank you", Seb said as the runaway suitcase was laid at his feet.
"Anytime", said the girl, holding out a hand.
Seb took it, expecting to shake the hand of his saviour but was instead hauled to his feet by a grip more suited to a heavyweight champion than that of a girl with a height on the wrong side of average (Footnote 1).
"I'm Georgie", she said, now shaking his hand. "Are you staying at Persephone's Grove?"
That was an awful amount of information for Seb to take in at that point, his brain currently feeling like an egg left unattended in the frying pan for too long.
"Uhhhhh......", Seb said as he tried to string his thoughts together.
"Yes", he said, finally managing it. "Yes, I'm at Persephone's Grove." His face fell as a nightmare occurred. "This is the right hill, isn't it?"
"Sorry....", Georgie, then stopped as Seb's face fell.
Throwing back her head Georgie released a peel of laughter like church bells on Easter Sunday.
The sound made Seb's insides twisted for a number of reasons.
"Don't worry", Georgie reassured Seb. "I was having you on. This is the right hill. That's Persephone's Grove, just there".
Georgie pointed to the tall semi-detached townhouse just in front of them.
"Oh", Seb said. "It's...." words failed him.
"Practically perfect in every way", completed Georgie for him, kindly.
"Yeah", Seb could only agree.
The house, a three-story affair with a turret room at the side, was a delightful mix of red brick and sparkling white paint. The sunlight hit the upper windows, making them shine a blinding glow while through the lower ones, rooms could be glimpsed. Plush couches with tasteful curtains, bespoke bookends on the mantle piece, a grand piano, half visible behind a magnificently crafted oaken chest.
The gardens, if anything, were even more lovely. A long brick path ran down from the navy blue front door with its proud brass furnishings. To its left, the grass grew greener than it ever could have done on the other side. Roses and lavender, sweetly smelling, were planted around the borders, herbs such as sage and thyme planted between them. A blooming wisteria, flowering past its usual date, wound up the house, the thickness of its branches testament to its great age. In the centre stood a gurgling fountain, water erupting gently from the mouths of three dolphins, each leaping for joy from the plinth they rested on. Casting shade on all of this was a proud toffee apple tree, its full leaves not yet the mellow yellow and dusty pink of autumn, but exquisite nonetheless.
"Huh. With a name like Persephone's Grove, I expected this place to be a little dingier."
Georgie and Seb turned quickly to face the person who had spoken.
It was a girl, tall and lean like an Amazon with a cynical expression which looked as though it had been there since she entered the world, bored and misanthropic.
"Hi", said Georgie, walking up to the girl with hand outstretched. "I'm Georgie and this is...."
She turned to Seb, realising with shame that she had forgotten to ask him his name.
"Seb", he said, once again fully in command of his thoughts.
"Eloise", said the Amazonian figure, taking Georgie's comparatively small hand in hers and giving it a wring.
"Blimey, that's a grip", thought Georgie and she gave Eloise a beatific smile.
"I take it you two were also assigned accommodation here", Eloise said, waving at a car where a pleasant looking couple were sitting.
"Yes", Georgie said as the car drove away, both people waving as they passed the three students. "But we haven't been inside yet. I only got here five minutes ago and Seb only just arrived. Were they your parents? They look nice."
"You don't know the half of it", said Eloise, placing her hands on her hips. "Did you have a reaction or something?", she asked Seb.
"Uhhhhh?", Seb asked, not really understanding where the question came from.
Once more, Georgie jumped to his rescue. "He's just a little warm. He had to carry all his stuff up the hill by himself. We should probably get him inside to the shade."
Eloise chose to ignore Georgie's attempt to drive the conversation away from Seb's unnatural and, quite frankly, humorous complexion.
"You look like a bee stung you....everywhere".
Georgie pursed her lips at Eloise' comment.
"Didn't your parents drop you off?", asked Eloise.
"No", Seb replied, a little too quickly. Slowing down, he continued, "They were struggling to juggle work with bringing me here, so I said I would get myself down by train."
"Idiot".
"That was decent of you".
Georgie and Eloise looked at each other.
"Well,", said Georgie, "Should we make our way inside. The email said to arrive at two and it's five past now."
"Sure", Seb said as Eloise gave a part shrug which was taken as a nod.
"Great", said Georgie buoyantly. "Give me those bags Seb, you concentrate on your suitcases. Can I take anything for you Eloise?".
Eloise shot Georgie a look and only Georgie's determination to get along with her housemates prevented it from causing damage.
"You know what", Eloise said, swinging up a bulging mountaineering bag as though it weighed no more than an underfed kitten. "I think I'm ok."
"Ok then", said Georgie. "Lead the way".
Eloise marched forward up the pleasant path.
Georgie and Seb looked at each other behind Eloise's retreating back as they carried the first load to the door.
"A comrade", thought Georgie with a smile at Seb.
"An angel", thought Seb with a grateful look.
1. Of course, the debate over what is the right and wrong side of average height really needs to be addressed. Everyone always thinks that the right side is the taller one, where the genetically blessed can smirk down at their smaller compatriots as they reach for the last bag of frozen peas. But these people are narrow minded. True, you may not be able to reach the top shelf in the supermarket easily, but there is always the option of jumping, or perhaps heels, and besides, when you are short it is so much easier to kick these people in the shins. For the sake of ease, however, this particular good Samaritan was a little shorter than average height for the British female.