We stood in the ground floor foyer, the crutches and suitcases tidily in a corner, my magazine and flowers on a small table.
“I’ll put them in a vase later, sweetheart.”
“Just don’t let them dry out, please.” The door to my right was closed, but the one to the left was open.
“That’s the parlour,” James said. I could see a long sofa beneath a window against the far wall. For a man my height, it would be a snug fit. With a casted leg, it would be uncomfortable.
“Where will I be sleeping?” Being on the ground floor might be convenient, but I intended to be in James’s bed if I had to crawl up the stairs on my hands and knees.
“I’ve a bedroom upstairs. There’s a bathroom, so you shouldn’t have much difficulty.”
“That’s brilliant.”
“I do have my moments. I’ll bring up your cases and crutc
