Just Like Her

Chapter 36

[ A/N: This was easily one of my favorite chapters to write. I would love to hear your thoughts/feedback, so please don't forget to comment or simply vote! ]

Tom

I paid the driver the billed fair and—unsure how long I would be welcome in Emma's home or how soon I might need to call him for a ride back to the station—I added in a very generous tip.

The house was a quintessential country home: grey stone and white mortar, slate roof with a stout chimney flanking each end, and an overgrown garden enclosed by a time-warped wooden gate. There were four square windows looking out into the lane, and I wondered if Emma was watching me behind one of their curtains. Not seeing any movement, I tightened my grip on the handle of my bag and trudged toward the front door.

I knocked twice before stepping back and steeling myself, but, despite my best efforts, I was utterly unprepared for the house's response.

"Emma, dear, is that you?" A woman's voice called from somewhere in the yard.

I glanced around, but finding nobody around, lifted my voice in response. "Uh, no!"

There was a moment's hesitation before the voice called back. "Are you a thief or a murder?"

My eyes widened in their sockets. "No!" I exclaimed, facing a nearby patch of ivy closest to where the voice seemed to originate from.

"Then do come in! The door's open!"

I peered around the front step to find a fifth window nestled in among the ivy. I nodded more in reassurance to myself and pushed open the door. It creaked slightly in its hinges and I was careful to close it gently behind myself.

"Through here, dear!"

I followed the sound of her voice through the door to my right. I suddenly I was standing in a kitchen with white plaster walls adorned with colorful cutlery and new age art. The cupboards and exposed beams were also painted white, giving the impression that every surface of the room seemed to radiate the natural light. Only the slate floor lacked the luminescent trait, instead appearing to absorb the warmth into its worn stone.

A heavyset woman worked on the opposite end of the kitchen. She was facing away from me, so all I could see were her hair-salt and pepper colored with streaks of silver-and her shoulder muscles moving beneath the thin cotton material of her blouse.

"Mrs. Henderson?"

She glanced over her shoulder and sent me a grin reminiscent of Emma's. "Last time I checked."

I did my best to swallow my growing nerves. "Hello, I'm—"

"Prince Thomas," she nodded cheerily. "Yes, I know. Would you mind if I waited to curtsy till I finished kneading this dough-"

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"It's only the fellow reporting the weather said there is supposed to be an uptick in humidity," she rambled on, still smiling. "And normally I wouldn't be concerned but old Miss Pricket told me just this morning that her knee is giving her trouble."

I furrowed my brow, trying to glean the appropriate response to her words. "Does her knee often give her trouble?"

"Oh yes," she nodded emphatically. "But only when the air is particularly humid, so you see I really must finish kneading the bread now and set it to rest before the great wave hits us!"

"It's quite alright—"

"Seven minutes left, love, then I can curtsy—"

I could feel the heat spreading across my cheeks and up into the tips of my ears. "Mrs. Henderson, I really wish you wouldn't."