Warren and Harry 2

Warren

After an hour, he didn’t think she was going to come, and was debating leaving when he heard the car door open and the nimble frame of Harry slide into the seat next to him, dumping her rucksack in the foot well and only glancing at Warren before looking back down at her fidgeting hands. She had changed out of her gown, now in just a pair of jeans and a t-shirt under a bomber jacket, but her hunting knife was still sheathed on her thigh.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, and she shrugged.

“Neither did I.”

“Then why did you?”

“It’s what my mam would’ve wanted.”

When she didn’t elaborate, he put the car in gear and drove out of the small estate in which she used to live. They drove in silence for most of the trip, Warren’s house being a little ways out from the city. It was a family mansion that was far enough away from anyone to not have to worry about neighbours but close enough not to be deemed isolated. It took an hour to walk to even the nearest shop, but Warren liked the solitude. Just as he was pulling into the long driveway of the house, Harry finally spoke.

“What’s your name?” she asked, and Warren was taken aback. It never occurred to him that the girls weren’t even told who they were meeting.

“Warren,” he said. “Warren Denu.”

“It’s nice to meet you Warren Denu,” she said just as he parked, then grabbed her bag and opened the car door, stepping out into the sun. He turned off the engine and followed suit, stepping around the car to stand beside her.

She stared in awe. “You live here?” she asked, and he nodded.

“It’s just me so I only live on the ground floor. I don’t even have staff so you’ll have to help out sometimes with chores.”

She shrugged. “That’s fine, gives me something to do.”

He led her in the front door and brought her round on a tour of the parts of the house he used. There was a kitchen, small living room, bathroom and office all on the left side of the entry hall, so he didn’t often go around the other parts of the mansion.