PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
‘This is your house?’ she says. She’s not imagined something so large, so sprawling hiding among London’s crowded streets.
He nods, and a muscle in his jaw twitches beneath the shaving cut she’s sure he won’t want her to notice.
‘What wonderful parties we can hold!’ she says, hands outstretched, as if already reaching for a cocktail glass. No matter that she has no friends yet. She will make some; for what else could a house such as this be built?
‘Parties? Goodness, no.’ His hand grips the gate, rattles at a lock she hasn’t noticed. ‘That’s what this is for: to keep my wife in and everyone else out.’