No Place to Lay My Head Read online

No Place to Lay My Head

  E. A. Walker

  Copyright E. A. Walker 2015

  Published by

  Two Moons Books

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Fiction Disclaimer

  This short story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and actions have either been invented by the author or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, whether living or dead, or to actual occurrences, is therefore necessarily and entirely coincidental.

  No Place to Lay My Head

  I first met Jaromir Starek after hours, at our agency office in Durham. The season was a miserable late January, an early thaw was making the pavement slushy without really making it any warmer. It was still cold, and still dark by five in the evening. I was tired after showing unresponsive clients around prospective homes all day, and the last thing I wanted was a text from the boss telling me to meet this "EU gent wants 2-room flat/small hs".

  I dropped my umbrella into the holder in reception, aware out of the corner of my eye of the client seated in one of the armchairs. The office was quiet. He unfolded himself to an impressive height as I turned to greet him, pasting a suitable PR smile onto my face. Oh my, I thought. I've always liked tall men. He must have been at least six and a half feet, not muscular but not weedy either. His dark eyes fixed on mine with an intense gaze that seemed to shimmer like a mirage caused by sun-heated air. His features were lean and hard, his nose straight, and his lips curled into a smile that verged on the predatory. I lifted my chin and met his gaze, my hands involuntarily smoothing my skirt. I was wearing a black business outfit, the professional estate agent.

  "Mr. Starek, I presume?" I asked, relieved that my voice held steady.

  "Indeed. A pleasure - Ms. Petersen?" he responded with a bow. His voice was deep and melodious. Then he took the hand I'd offered in greeting and touched his lips to my knuckles. I firmly banked my first feelings and took my hand back. His fingers were long and his hand finely formed.

  "Please," I said coolly, "have a seat. Let's talk about what you're looking for."

  "Thank you," he answered, subsiding into his armchair once more.

  I took a seat on the sofa opposite him, his eyes following me. I didn't need a picture to know exactly what he was seeing: a twenty-something brunette with a slim build, a pale face and grey eyes. My hair was cut in a French bob, and I wore minimal jewelry - just a platinum wristwatch and diamond studs.

  "I understand you're looking for a flat, or perhaps a small house?" I asked.

  "Yes, Ms. Petersen," he confirmed. "Just some place to lay my head. I would prefer a flat but your Mr. York said that these are hard to find. A small house would be quite acceptable, if the rental is not too high."

  "You're not interested in buying right now?" I enquired, "You realize that rent money doesn't come back, but that just a little more will get you a property that will repay your investment with interest?"

  "I do, but my plans are... not yet finalized at present. I may have to move again."

  "I need to ask some questions, Mr. Starek, so that I can choose a property that best meets your needs. I hope you don't mind. Do you have a family?"

  He smiled again. "Ms. Petersen, please - 'Jaromir' is fine. And no, I have no family; I live alone."

  "Okay, Jaromir it is, and please call me Juliet. Now, what do you do for a living?"

  The question seemed to take him by surprise, and for a moment his eyes left me to glance out of the window into the lamp lit street. A car whooshed by, icy water spraying the sidewalk. "I am a researcher," he answered.

  "Where are you from?" I asked, which wasn't strictly speaking something I needed to know, but I was curious.

  "I was born and raised in a small town in the south of Hungary, but my family is actually Romanian. Why do you ask?"

  I flushed slightly, but answered honestly, "I was just curious." I went on, "Do you have any pets?"

  "No," he said sadly, "they don't live long enough. Do you know that the average life span of a dog is only nine years?"

  "Can you tell me what lease budget you had in mind?"

  "What is necessary, I will pay. Only, I do not wish to waste money, so - something adequate to my needs. Perhaps I should explain that I have some personal preferences. A comfortable bedroom, in which I would prefer a west-facing window. I would like a house with a cellar, a wine cellar if possible. A second room which is good for a study. For the rest," he shrugged his shoulders, "whatever is usual. A bathroom, kitchen, sitting room."

  I raised an eyebrow, just a little. He'd been looking for a flat, and now he was demanding a wine cellar - for a budget rental?

  "Where are you staying now?" I asked, and caught his eyes on me once again. He looked fascinated by me, and I had to admit to myself that if that was what he was feeling, it was mutual.

  "An hotel," he said, "the Premier Inn."

  I grimaced and he chuckled. "It's not so bad," he told me, "and, after all, it is temporary."

  "Okay," I said, "let me have a look at what we have on the books, and can I show you some places tomorrow?"

  "Oh," he responded, "I had hoped to have a look tonight. But I understand, you will need some time to consider the available properties." He looked up once more, those dark eyes holding me in their heated gaze. "You seem tired, also, Juliet," he added.

  "Tomorrow morning, around ten?" I asked.

  "Oh," he said, "I'm afraid I will be busy until after four. Would it be possible to go after that?"

  For him, yes. For anyone else looking for a budget rental, I doubt I would have agreed.

  I sighed, "All right, Mr. Starek. At four-thirty tomorrow, then?"

  "Jaromir," he twinkled at me.

  "Jaromir," I smiled back.

  He stood up once more, holding out a hand to me.

  "Good night, Juliet," he wished me, dropping another kiss on my hand in parting.

  I gave myself the usual little lecture about keeping myself to myself and so staying out of trouble, but I'm afraid it fell on deaf ears. I locked up and left, humming happily.

  On the following evening Teri, our receptionist stayed with me. I'd told her about Jaromir Starek and perhaps I'd been a little too enthusiastic in describing him. At any rate, as a friend and co-worker Teri felt duty-bound to give him the once-over for my safety's sake. Or at least, that's what she said was her reason. Teri was a fun-loving blond thirty-something, a people person.

  A old black Mercedes quietly pulled up outside. It was a monster, and it had to be a classic car. The polished chrome shone bright against the dark gleam of the paint.

  "Is that him?" Teri asked, "Wow, he's tall!" As Jaromir approached our steps she added, "Yeah, he's hot. I can see why you fancy him!"

  "Teri!" I whispered, "I never said..."

  "Good evening, Juliet," Jaromir said, "and this is...?"

  Teri smirked at our being on first name terms. "Teri Clarke, Mr. Starek, in reception."

  From behind his shoulder I glared at her, softening somewhat as I saw that he merely shook her hand rather than kissing it.

  Ignoring Teri's frown of caution I accepted Jaromir's offer of transport. I wanted a ride in the ancient Mercedes, which looked like it dated from the nineteen-forties but proved to be immaculate both inside and out.

  He followed my directions, driving calmly and competent
ly through the winding streets. My mobile twinkled at me and I looked at it.

  Teri: Hes hot but u dont know him. Be careful!

  I put the phone away and indicated to Jaromir to pull in outside a small block of flats. We were getting out when the phone went off again.

  Teri: If u don want him, can I hav him?

  I laughed out loud. Teri was incorrigible.

  "What is it?" Jaromir was asking.

  I quickly restored my professional expression. "Nothing, just a joke text from a friend." I hurriedly continued, "This is one flat I've found for you, but of course there is no cellar. Otherwise it should do."

  We turned and went in, but I could tell that this property had no attraction for him; he was just going through the motions.

  "Let's move on," I suggested. "Next, there's a little house in Crossgate Moor, and a slightly bigger one, not large, but which has a cellar." His interest perked up at once at the mention of the cellar, and I mentally tagged that as a requirement.

  "It's not a wine cellar, but it could be converted," I explained as we drove. I'd already discarded the first house from our list.

  When we looked at the place he was frowning at the ground level cellar window, which faced the street.

  "It's also west-facing, like the bedroom window," I pointed out. Mentally I sighed as this failed to improve his expression.

  In the end we had to give up for the evening. He invited me out to dinner, and while my unruly self jumped up and down inside screaming Dinner AND! Dinner AND Dessert!, I consented to just have a