Chapter Four

They walked down the street together, soaked, looking very odd indeed to the passers-by. She turned down a side street where there was only pedestrian traffic and the concrete slabs of the pavement turned into old cobble stones. She had introduced herself as Evelyn Potter when they had taken off down the road together and Peter had introduced himself.

She turned down another right and he found himself in an almost hallway. The buildings were so old and so hurriedly built that at this point they had fallen forwards so much the front peaks brushed each other. At the end of the walk there was a wrought iron gate that hung gracefully. If one was to look through the bars of the gate they would see a small courtyard filled with planters and such. Evelyn smiled up at Peter as she had to reach over his body to get at the latch for the gate.

As they walked into the courtyard Peter noticed that there was five doors that led on to the courtyard; two on either side and one in front of them. Without a moment's hesitation she strolled across the courtyard to the door across from them, she was careful not to trip over the tricycle that was up ended in the middle of the courtyard. Peter followed her feeling like a bit of a prat still carrying his suitcase. They stopped at the door and Evelyn looked at her bag for the first time.

The top had unlatched and she hadn't noticed until just now. "Oh no," She moaned.

"Is there anything missing?" Asked Peter careful not to look into her handbag.

"Well, just my keys." Evelyn said sulkily.

"I suppose we will just have to go back and look." She looked up at Peter, obviously the thought of being so close to fresh, dry clothes and not getting them was almost too much for her to bear. "Or..." Peter was trying to think quickly on his feet, which is very hard when one is soaked and cold, "Is there a café near by that you could wait in while I go and look?"

She looked up at him, one hand still in her purse. She laughed airily. "Thank you but I am fine." She knelt to her door mat and pulled up the far corner so that Peter couldn't see what was under it. He thought for a moment he could see her mouth move.

"Sorry?" He asked leaning forward slightly not wanting to miss anything she might say to him.

Evelyn looked up at him, a key hanging off a bit of string in hand, "Pardon?" They both smiled.

Peter looked in through the window by the door and saw a thin satin curtain hanging over it, making it impossible to see into the room. All of a sudden the curtain moved and a black cat jumped on to the window ledge. Peter smiled a half-smile to himself. The cat looked straight at Jenny, Peter had supposed that the cat had heard them, it was completely black with enormous amber eyes. The eyes turned to him and blinked a couple of times. Peter wasn't sure if it was possible but the cat defiantly looked dumb founded. Then suddenly it hissed viciously, jumping down.

Peter raised his eye brows and looked at Evelyn. She was staring at the now empty window sill her mouth slightly open a shocked look on her face. She looked at Peter and smiled breathlessly. The key was in the lock but she had stopped mid-turn.

"Sorry, he is still slightly feral." She shrugged looking down.

"I don't mind as long as he doesn't attack me when I come in." He said laughing.

The door unlocked and swung open. Evelyn stood up and looked thoughtful, "He might, couldn't say really." With that she walked into the house.

Peter stood dumb founded on her stoop for a few seconds before she looked out at him in the middle of taking off her coat. "Well, are you coming in or not?" She smiled.

"Sorry," He walked in and closed the door behind himself. He wiped his feet on the inside mat and looked around. In front of him there was a mirror and on either side were a great number of mounted hooks, hanging from them were many different shapes and styles of hats and scarfs.

On his right there was a door that led into a small sitting room with an enormous fire-place with an ornate chestnut mantle. There was a very squishy looking sofa in a deep green fabric with a matching love seat. To his left was a small kitchen, the cupboards were all white washed and the sink was clean. In the middle was a huge thick wooden table that looked like it had seen many meals made on it. In the back there was a staircase with a heavy banister and steep stairs. Outside Peter had counted another two floors of windows and wondered if the rest of the house was as cosy as this first floor. He kicked off his shoes and found that his socks squelched as they hit the stone floor. Evelyn looked up at him at the noise, she was leaning over the fireplace getting a fire going. She smiled. He was amazed that the smile ever left her mouth.

"Come here," She said brightly. Putting her hand on the thick iron grate, she pulled off her shoes, they must have been tight at the wet splash that sounded as her foot came out. She giggled as Peter moved into the room. He had to duck his head to avoid hitting the beam in the door way. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to Evelyn whose hand was waiting for it. She hung it up in a coat stand beside the fire-place and did the same with hers as she pulled it off. She had a bit of trouble with her arms because the sleeves of her dress ended at her elbow and the wet jacket material stuck to her skin. Peter helped by pulling the cuff of the sleeve.

"Thank you," She hung up her jacket.

Soon Peter's socks, his tie, and sweater vest were hanging over the grate drying slowly as his sports coat hung by his jacket. He sat on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, his toes wiggling in the heat. He had untucked his shirt to help it dry faster and was quite happy and comfortable. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and looked on the walls. They were covered in an array of sizes of hand painted pictures. They were mainly landscapes with a few animals in some. Peter squinted at one over the fireplace, it was a mound with trees growing up the sides.

"Here we are," He looked up from the picture to Jenny. She had come back in with a large silver tray with a matching teapot and set. She let it down on the small round coffee table that rested between the couch and the fireplace. She poured out two cups. "Sugar? Milk?" She asked looking at him, she had tied her hair back back into a bun but a few strands had escaped and framed her face.

"Please," Peter responded. She finished and handed him the cup. It was by far the best cup of tea he had ever had since going to his grandmothers.

And so Peter sat in the warm living room, his cloths slowly drying, he was secretly wishing they would dry slower talking to a girl, this mysterious smiling Evelyn, about the most normal and extraordinary things.

As he stumbled into his room, and he put his suitcase on his bed Freddy came barreling into their room. Freddy was his roommate and had been just down the halls in the communal bathroom. He was in his old boarding school house coat and was towelling his hair dry.

Freddy was as tall as Peter maybe a few inches shorter but was far more muscular than Peter from all the sports he played. Freddy was the classic Athlete, he was on the rowing team, the rugby team and the boxing team. If it wasn't for the sports program Peter wondered if Freddy would go to Cambridge at all, for he certainly wasn't a sharp hand at academics. But he definitely was one with the ladies, with jet black hair and big light blue eyes he was something to look at.

"I say old chap," Freddy said flopping on to his already mussed up bed, "You've been out? Fall down a rabbit hole?" Freddy was always frightfully good show, his father was a hereditary Lord and Freddy was actually His Right Honourable Frederick William Kinston the third.

"No actually," Peter sat down on the edge of his bed feeling dazed. "I...I um, I think I saved someone." He looked Freddy in the eye when he spoke.

"By jove, look at you what on earth happened!?" Freddy said sitting up and looking at Peter's crinkled shirt and his tie, sweater vest, and socks in hand.

"Well you see..." Peter delved into the story with Freddy listening in disbelief.

"Good God man, what are the bloody chances?" Freddy ran his hand through his hair making the still damp hair stand up on end. " I mean really, look at you, and you just sat and talked after her saving her life?"

"What do you mean 'look at me? And what else do you think we would do?" Peter said feeling rather self-conscious.

"Well certainly something more interesting than discuss the bus schedule." Freddy leant back on his pillow again.

"We didn't talk about the bus schedule and just because I didn't attack her like an animal doesn't mean she isn't interested. "

"Sure she does, mate sure,"

"Well actually we are meeting on Friday to go to the English department dinner party, the one too welcome students back." said Peter. He stretched his arms, resting his hands behind his head. Freddy turned his head to face Peter his eyebrows raising, Peter raised his own eyebrows.

"Well, I say good son, it seems that my finesse is finally starting to rub off on you."