fabulous,” I enthused. “It’s one of my favourites of all time.” I ran in and gave him a hug, secretly delighted that Aunt Jess appeared to approve of my new home.
“Brilliant,” he said. “I thought it would be.”
So Aidan and I joined forces, happily muddling along together and Joe moved further and further into the deeper recesses of my thoughts. My life felt perfect. I loved being at Art College, I loved Aidan, and I loved the freedom that living with him gave me. Being in Maida Vale meant I could examine in more detail the roads around Warwick Avenue, and I spent so much time looking up at roofs, it’s a wonder I didn’t fall over.
When it came to architecture, Aidan was a sucker for Art Deco but I was a Georgian, through and through. I could not but be amazed at the precision of the stone cutters, the sharp angles and hard edges of the line and the sheer beauty of the design still so apparent, even today.
Because of the imposing architecture around us I began to wonder if the district was built at the same time as the roads around Regents Park. It was bounded to the south by the Regents Canal and should have been obvious, but it took me a few weeks to make the connection. Broad, curved avenues interspersed with circuses and mews spread in swathes across the whole area in the Georgian style, but I discovered most were built much later during the reign of Victoria.
Christmas came and went, its celebrations now over and New Year ones approaching. We both spent Christmas at home with our families, Aidan making the long journey to Ireland to see his parents.
When I returned to the apartment after the holiday I was surprised to see Aidan was already back. I found him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, and was shocked to see he was crying. Trying to console him, I placed my arm around his neck.
“Whatever’s wrong,” I asked. “Did you have a bad time at home? Was it your mum?” I stroked his face.
“No, it’s this lot. When I got back the doormat was littered with bills, some of them final demands. I can’t manage. I’ll have to give the flat up and go home to Ireland. I’ll have to tell my mum I’m a failure.” He sniffed hard and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.
Horror gripped me. I could not imagine life without Aidan. I had been so happy with him and our arrangement. Life was peaceful and pleasant, and the last thing I needed was more upheaval, or worse, having to also go home. I hugged him to me.
“I’ll get a job,” I said. “I can work in the evenings. And accounts. I’ll look at them. My dad’s an accountant or a bookkeeper or something. He’s shown me what to do. We’ll be all right, you’ll see. I’ll take care of things.”
“No, that’s not fair. And what about your course? You won’t be able to do well in your exams if you can’t complete your projects at night. It’s my fault we’re in this shit. I must be the one to get us out.” He nodded vehemently.
“And what are you going to do? Become a rent boy?”
As soon as I uttered the words I could have bitten out my tongue, but instead of being mortified a look of revelation passed over Aidan’s face and he beamed.
“No,” I said. “It’s a terrible idea, seriously. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
“No, but there is a solution. Rent! We’ll take another lodger!”
“How can we? Where would they sleep?” I didn’t fancy having another female around, which seemed the only option Aidan would consider.
“There’s the small bedroom.”
“But it’s minute ! No one would pay to live there unless they were desperate.”
“Exactly. I am, so I’ll take the small room and someone else can have mine. I’ve made up my mind.”
“Then I’ll take over running the debts,” I said, “so stop worrying.”
I sat down with him at the kitchen table and picked up the pile of envelopes. The contents were not nearly as bad as he led me to expect. I was sure that with a
“Brilliant,” he said. “I thought it would be.”
So Aidan and I joined forces, happily muddling along together and Joe moved further and further into the deeper recesses of my thoughts. My life felt perfect. I loved being at Art College, I loved Aidan, and I loved the freedom that living with him gave me. Being in Maida Vale meant I could examine in more detail the roads around Warwick Avenue, and I spent so much time looking up at roofs, it’s a wonder I didn’t fall over.
When it came to architecture, Aidan was a sucker for Art Deco but I was a Georgian, through and through. I could not but be amazed at the precision of the stone cutters, the sharp angles and hard edges of the line and the sheer beauty of the design still so apparent, even today.
Because of the imposing architecture around us I began to wonder if the district was built at the same time as the roads around Regents Park. It was bounded to the south by the Regents Canal and should have been obvious, but it took me a few weeks to make the connection. Broad, curved avenues interspersed with circuses and mews spread in swathes across the whole area in the Georgian style, but I discovered most were built much later during the reign of Victoria.
Christmas came and went, its celebrations now over and New Year ones approaching. We both spent Christmas at home with our families, Aidan making the long journey to Ireland to see his parents.
When I returned to the apartment after the holiday I was surprised to see Aidan was already back. I found him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, and was shocked to see he was crying. Trying to console him, I placed my arm around his neck.
“Whatever’s wrong,” I asked. “Did you have a bad time at home? Was it your mum?” I stroked his face.
“No, it’s this lot. When I got back the doormat was littered with bills, some of them final demands. I can’t manage. I’ll have to give the flat up and go home to Ireland. I’ll have to tell my mum I’m a failure.” He sniffed hard and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.
Horror gripped me. I could not imagine life without Aidan. I had been so happy with him and our arrangement. Life was peaceful and pleasant, and the last thing I needed was more upheaval, or worse, having to also go home. I hugged him to me.
“I’ll get a job,” I said. “I can work in the evenings. And accounts. I’ll look at them. My dad’s an accountant or a bookkeeper or something. He’s shown me what to do. We’ll be all right, you’ll see. I’ll take care of things.”
“No, that’s not fair. And what about your course? You won’t be able to do well in your exams if you can’t complete your projects at night. It’s my fault we’re in this shit. I must be the one to get us out.” He nodded vehemently.
“And what are you going to do? Become a rent boy?”
As soon as I uttered the words I could have bitten out my tongue, but instead of being mortified a look of revelation passed over Aidan’s face and he beamed.
“No,” I said. “It’s a terrible idea, seriously. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
“No, but there is a solution. Rent! We’ll take another lodger!”
“How can we? Where would they sleep?” I didn’t fancy having another female around, which seemed the only option Aidan would consider.
“There’s the small bedroom.”
“But it’s minute ! No one would pay to live there unless they were desperate.”
“Exactly. I am, so I’ll take the small room and someone else can have mine. I’ve made up my mind.”
“Then I’ll take over running the debts,” I said, “so stop worrying.”
I sat down with him at the kitchen table and picked up the pile of envelopes. The contents were not nearly as bad as he led me to expect. I was sure that with a
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